Some pictures from the annual Good Friday procession on College Street.
Meanwhile, another procession started at St. Clare Church and ended at St. Thomas Aquinas Church in Toronto.
And the 8th annual Way of the Cross took place in the streets of Peterborough.
See the article here:
VENDREDI SAINT
La Parole en silence
se consume pour nous.
L’espoir du monde
a parcouru sa route.
Voici l’heure où la vie
retourne à la source :
dernier labeur de la chair
mise en croix.
Serviteur inutile,
les yeux clos désormais,
le Fils de l’homme
a terminé son œuvre.
La lumière apparue
rejoint l’invisible,
la nuit s’étend sur le corps
Jésus meurt.
Maintenant tout repose
dans l’unique oblation.
Les mains du Père
ont recueilli le souffle.
Le visage incliné
s’apaise aux ténèbres,
le coup de lance a scellé
la passion.
Le rideau se déchire
dans le Temple désert.
La mort du juste
a consommé la faute,
et l’Amour a gagné
l’immense défaite :
demain, le Jour surgira
du tombeau.
* * * * * *
GOOD FRIDAY
Good Friday is called
“good”
only in English.
In its entry on Good Friday, the Catholic Encyclopedia notes that: The origin of the term Good is not clear. Some say it is from “God’s Friday” (Gottes Freitag); others maintain that it is from the German Gute Freitag, and not specially English. Sometimes, too, the day was called Long Friday by the Anglo-Saxons; so today in Denmark.
If Good Friday were called good because English adopted the German phrase, then we would expect Gute Freitag to be the common German name for Good Friday, but it is not. Instead, Germans refer to Good Friday as Karfreitag—that is, Sorrowful or Suffering Friday—in German.
So, in the end, the historical origins of why Good Friday is called Good Friday remain unclear, but the theological reason is the one given in the
Baltimore Catechism
: Good Friday is good because the death of Christ, as terrible as it was, led to the Resurrection on Easter Sunday, which brought new life to those who believe. (Source:
)
* * * * * *
Danilo and Anna Maria Zanzucchi (of the Focolare Movement), Founders of the “New Families” Movement, were invited by Pope Benedict XVI to write and narrate the Way of the Cross to be held this evening at the Colosseum in Rome. Here is an excerpt from their work:
WAY OF THE CROSS 2012
FOURTH STATION
Jesus meets his mother
V. We adore you, O Christ, and we bless you.
R. Because by your holy cross you have redeemed the world.
From the Gospel according to John 19:25
Standing by the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.
On the way to Calvary, Jesus sees his mother. Their eyes meet. They understand one another. Mary knows who her son is. She knows whence he has come. She knows what his mission is. Mary knows that she is his mother; but she also knows that she is his daughter. She sees him suffer for all men and women, those of the past, present and future. And she too suffers.
Certainly, Jesus,
it pains you to see your mother suffer in this way.
But you must make her a part
of this tremendous divine drama.
For such is God’s plan
for the salvation of the human race.
For every man and woman in this world, but especially for us families, the meeting of Jesus and his mother on the way to Calvary is a powerful and ever timely event. Jesus gave up his mother so that each of us – including the spouses among us – might have a mother who is always there for us. Sometimes, sadly, we forget this. But, when we think about it, we realize that countless times in our lives as families we have turned to her. How close she has been to us in times of trouble! How many times have we entrusted our children to her, how often we have asked her to intervene for their physical health and, even more, for their moral protection!
How often has Mary heard us, and have we felt her near to comfort us with a mother’s love.
Along each family’s way of the cross, Mary is the model of that silence which, even in moments of overwhelming pain, gives birth to new life.
All:
Pater noster, qui es in caelis:
sanctificetur nomen tuum;
adveniat regnum tuum;
fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a malo.
Quæ mærebat et dolebat
pia Mater, dum videbat
Nati poenas incliti.
View original post here:
GOOD FRIDAY – Stations of the Cross in Rome written by a lay couple at the Pope’s invitation
This blog is simply an exercise in self-expression which has been yearning for an outlet for some time. It’s called TiPSI Mom because I’m joining my husband (the TiPSI Dad) in blogging about being a family of Two Parents on a Single Income raising seven kids.
Original article:
God could have reconciled mankind to himself by a thought
but he chose to do it by giving us infinite value.
To redeem me he chose to give away his Only Begotten.
Oh Infinite, the value he places on me.
He gave away His own Son to purchase me!
I am the God Ransomed!
We are Divinely bought,
The Human Race, from our beginning to our end has today Infinite value.
Each infant, each drunk, each mother,
each murderer, each rapist, each hater,
each mad beggar, each boring fool, each oaf, each lout.
Each is of Infinite value, more precious even than the only Son of God.
Each dearly bought by iron nail and wood, blood and spittle, torn flesh and tormented Deity
There is no cheap, worthless humanity under the the shadow of the Cross,
or in the Divine Heart…
… nor in the true Christian heart.
View original post here -
Here below, B16′s reflection at the close of tonight’s Way of the Cross (
) at Rome’s Colosseum.
A Good Friday tradition begun by John Paul II, in a first, the reflections for this year’s Via Crucis were written by a married couple — Danilo and Anna Maria Zanzucchi, leaders of the family branch of the global Focolare movement.
Per custom, the homily at this afternoon’s liturgy of the Lord’s Passion in St Peter’s Basilica was given by the preacher of the Papal Household, Capuchin Fr Raniero Cantalamessa.
Here, the Pope:
* * *
Dear Brothers and Sisters,
Once more in meditation, prayer and song, we have recalled Jesus’s journey along the way of the cross: a journey seemingly hopeless, yet one that changed human life and history, and opened the way to “new heavens and a new earth” (cf. Rev 21:1). Especially today, Good Friday, the Church commemorates with deep spiritual union the death of the Son of God on the cross; in his cross she sees the tree of life, which blossoms in new hope.
The experience of suffering and of the cross touches all mankind; it touches the family too. How often does the journey become wearisome and difficult! Misunderstandings, conflicts, worry for the future of our children, sickness and problems of every kind. These days too, the situation of many families is made worse by the threat of unemployment and other negative effects of the economic crisis. The Way of the Cross which we have spiritually retraced this evening invites all of us, and families in particular, to contemplate Christ crucified in order to have the force to overcome difficulties. The cross of Christ is the supreme sign of God’s love for every man and woman, the superabundant response to every person’s need for love. At times of trouble, when our families have to face pain and adversity, let us look to Christ’s cross. There we can find the courage and strength to press on; there we can repeat with firm hope the words of Saint Paul: “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword? … No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (Rom 8:35,37).
In times of trial and tribulation, we are not alone; the family is not alone. Jesus is present with his love, he sustains them by his grace and grants the strength needed to carry on, to make sacrifices and to evercome every obstacle. And it is to this love of Christ that we must turn when human turmoil and difficulties threaten the unity of our lives and our families. The mystery of Christ’s suffering, death and resurrection inspires us to go on in hope: times of trouble and testing, when endured with Christ, with faith in him, already contain the light of the resurrection, the new life of a world reborn, the passover of all those who believe in his word.
In that crucified Man who is the Son of God, even death itself takes on new meaning and purpose: it is redeemed and overcome, it becomes a passage to new life. “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it produces much fruit” (Jn 12:24). Let us entrust ourselves to the Mother of Christ. May Mary, who accompanied her Son along his way of sorrows, who stood beneath the cross at the hour of his death, and who inspired the Church at its birth to live in God’s presence, lead our hearts and the hearts of every family through the vast mysterium passionis towards the mysterium paschale, towards that light which breaks forth from Christ’s resurrection and reveals the definitive victory of love, joy and life over evil, suffering and death. Amen.
PHOTO: Getty
-30-
Link:
Last Wednesday, a parishioner sent me an e-mail asking “Why is Good Friday called ‘good’?
He’d have had a better chance of winning the lottery than getting a fast answer from me; Holy Week is just too busy.
So imagine my surprise when another parishioner called this morning to say there was a perfectly good reply to the question in today’s Vancouver Sun! Pretty close to the last place I’d look for Christian truth.
But the fact is that the Sun hits the nail squarely on the head. After some interesting history about the name Good Friday, which isn’t universal—it’s called Mourning Day in German, for instance—the editorial says whatever its origin, and despite the solemn rituals marking this day, “Good Friday is, for Christians, good in every sense of the word.”
“After all,” the editorial says, “Christianity teaches that Christ’s death is not a chance event. Rather, His death was preordained—He was sent to Earth to die for our sins and in so doing, He conquered death and redeemed humanity.”
If that were all the newspaper had to say, I’d be very pleased. But there’s more to the editorial, and it’s even better: because it brings the goodness of Good Friday even closer to each of us.
Here’s how it continues. “Christ therefore gave meaning to suffering and death: His sorrows were like a seed—a seed from which He was resurrected and from which a spiritually reborn humanity could flower.”
Pure poetry, and the editorial writer adds something I didn’t know: that “historically, Good Friday was thought to be a good day for planting seeds.” Given the weather today, you gardeners may want to take note of that.
My dear friend Sister Josephine Carney likes to say that “memories are seeds of hope.” This afternoon, the liturgy helps remember the terrible sufferings of Jesus. But it’s not a history lesson: we are invited to find in his passion and death the seeds of our hope, the seeds that will sprout in the soil of our own sufferings.
The mystery we recall today does not belong only to history, but to this very moment. Blessed John Henry Newman wrote “the Atonement of Christ is not a thing at a distance, or like the sun standing above and separated from us… We are surrounded by an atmosphere and are in a medium, through which His warmth and light flow in upon us on every side.”
We all know that seeds cannot flower without sun. In some ways, our Good Friday liturgy is somber, even dark. Yet even in this commemoration of the Lord’s death, warmth and light flow in upon us. This is why we dare to offer more prayers of petition today than at any other liturgy of the year—ten solemn intercessions for every imaginable need.
Why do we receive the Eucharist on Good Friday, a day when Mass is not offered? I think it is so that we do not lose touch, even for a moment, with the love that surrounds us, the love in which we exist at all times. The Eucharist makes present the incarnate and crucified Lord, and the risen Lord. Today, and every day, let us remember that—in joy and, especially, in sorrow.
Taken from:
One of global Catholicism’s most prominent chroniclers, Rocco Palmo has held court as the “Church Whisperer” since 2004, when the pages you’re reading were launched with an audience of three, grown since by nothing but word of mouth, and kept alive throughout solely by means of reader support.
A former US correspondent for the London-based international Catholic weekly The Tablet, Palmo’s served as a church analyst for The New York Times, Associated Press, Washington Post, Los Angeles Times, BBC, NBC, CNN, National Public Radio and many other mainstream print and broadcast outlets worldwide.
A native of Philadelphia, Rocco Palmo attended the University of Pennsylvania, where he earned a Bachelor of Arts in Political Science. In 2010, he received a Doctorate of Humane Letters honoris causa from Aquinas Institute of Theology in St Louis.
View original post here:
(Passion narratives of Matthew, Mark and Luke)
More here:
A few years ago, I found myself confined behind the brick walls of the Jesuit house in Kingston, Jamaica, while gunfire raged outside. For three days, army, police and gunmen were battling for control of the city, the catalyst being a government decision to arrest Jamaica’s leading criminal don. Drought had made the city even more combustible, and the urban water shortage was making life difficult. Ironically, those three days were the first time in months I had opportunity to reflect – a rest from the days of teaching at the inner-city school. I spent those house-bound mornings reading and thinking about why I had been led to this violent but hospitable and beautiful island nation.
Above all, I was there because I had been sent, like my fellow novices from Canada, who at the same time were serving in Haiti and the native missions of northern Ontario. We were meant to meet Christ in the face of the poor. Now, as the city was being rocked by the trauma of violence, I was anxious to get out and help in some way.
On the fourth day, I got a call from a priest at our inner-city parish St. Annie’s beside the school, about a mile away in Denham Town. The gunfire had mostly subsided, and I was to try to come and help bring food for the local residents. Sister Beverly, a Franciscan sister who could go almost anywhere, picked me up in a white van. We drove around Kingston, loading sacks of dry foods, and praying we would be able to get to our church, which was behind army checkpoints. At an entry street soldiers stopped the van and questioned us; they didn’t want more guns smuggled into the zone. I realized nervously that I had no identification on me that day. But they must have thought that the only white person silly enough to be there would be a missionary-type, so they let us through, and we reached St. Annie’s with our cargo.
 |
| St. Annie’s RC Church, West Kingston |
A restless crowd gathered quickly, hungry after four days of fighting, martial law and curfew, and then a band of soldiers arrived. An angry major told us we needed permission to distribute food since the situation was still volatile. We called his superior, and soon the major was ordering his soldiers to help us for the rest of the day! I stepped around the ends of machine guns, carrying family-sized bags of rice and beans to the crowd, which was now lining up thanks to the presence of the soldiers. We learned the church was the only source of food. Humanitarian groups were not being allowed inside the zone, although we did see one car arrive and begin handing out food, but it got mobbed and fled the scene.
The next day, Sr. Beverly began worrying about the people in occupied Tivoli Gardens, the fugitive’s own neighbourhood and epicentre of the conflict not far from the church. It had been tightly sealed off from the public for almost a week, except for a one-hour “guided tour” for the media by the army. It was still in a state of high-tension as soldiers conducted house-to-house searches looking for arms and their fugitive. I wasn’t sure what they would think of us showing up, but I was willing to give it a try. A married couple, the Edwards, were parishioners of ours had managed to walk out of Tivoli that morning to look for food. They were eager to get back to their family, so perhaps we could drive them. Mr. Edwards, an usher in the church, had had his back grazed by bullets when soldiers fired into his apartment window during the initial assault, but aside from some trauma, was mostly okay. They heard soldiers yell “there’s a gunman!” just before getting themselves and their children onto the floor. Their six-year-old son David jumped down just before bullets struck the wall where he had been sitting.
 |
| Security patrol as viewed from the rectory during the events of May 2010 |
I got in the van with Sr. Beverly, the Edwards, and sacks of food. As we drove towards Tivoli, we could see that soldiers everywhere were tired; they had been on the streets for five days now, never sure whether or not a sharpshooter would fire at them. I heard residents yell, “sistah!” as we drove past, and I could tell she was tempted, but every stop would mean a small crowd and antsy soldiers.
Somehow, we just rolled into Tivoli. The presence of security forces was about ten times that of the parish area. We glided past dozens of eagle-eyed soldiers and police in flak-jackets, and nobody stopped us. The place was like a war zone. Rubble from barricades and the fallout from the explosives was everywhere. It was evident that this had been a fairly well-kept community by West Kingston standards thanks to its ample drug money, but now it looked like war-torn Beirut. There were no children anywhere – just some women and elderly people wandering the streets looking dazed. The news had reported that around 500 men had been taken away to the national arena for processing.
Once inside their small apartment, the Edwards showed me the spray of machine-gun holes on the wall above their bed. It was a sobering sight. Then Mr. Edwards took me up to higher floors to visit other residents of their building. He told me soldiers had taken a young man and shot him dead in his own living room. He was not even a gunman the mother said, as she pointed out the spot. Another woman showed me the bedroom where her son had been shot. The sheets on the bed were still blood-stained. Many were in shock, or perhaps stoic resignation. Sister Beverly asked me to pray with them, which I did, holding back emotion as we asked God for justice, peace, and forgiveness in the midst of all this human misery.
It was not easy to see God’s presence in midst of this chaos, nor to sort out the justice from the injustice, the right from the wrong. Some say that violence would always be present in paradise, that the poisonous insects come with the mangos. Later, at our evening Mass back at the Jesuit centre, I struggled to concentrate with the adrenaline and swirl of the day’s imagery. Yet the gestures and words of the priest called me back to the sacrifice that illumines all human suffering. The drama of the day was somehow contained in the larger drama of the cross, and I had a strong sense that all human pain could be found within the body broken of him whose life was poured out for all. The bread offered at that altar was that of Jesus 2000 years ago and of Jesus that day in West Kingston. Then I could see a little more my purpose there. God had asked me to come and participate a little in the cross of this corner of the world, to be “buried” for a time there, and be a witness of God’s love for his people, even as they were witnessing the same to me.
During those days of conflict, the rain began to pour again. The water was both a blessing for the parched city, and perhaps a damper on the flames of violence. Soon I would be preparing to take vows back home in Canada, confirming a vocation that had begun in the waters of my baptism years ago. But I knew that in Jamaica, through an experience of the paschal mystery, and in the beautiful faces of his people, I had encountered Christ once more. Just as he had died, so also he would rise again.
 |
| Jamaica’s hope: the effervescent spirit of St. Annie’s School grade fours |
View original:
Tyrannosaurus Rex: Mighty Meat-Eater
by Sheila Hammer. Illustrated by Jason Dove (
) –
series
Pages: 24
Ages: 5-8
Finished: Mar. 121, 2012
First Published: Jan. 1, 2012
Publisher: Capstone Press
Genre: children, easy reader, graphic novel, non-fiction, dinosaurs
Rating: 2.5/5
First sentence: “The ground shakes.”
Publisher’s Summary: “Roar! Mighty tyrannosaurus rex is on the prowl. With giant jaws and sharp teeth, this predator gets its way. Learn more about this massive dinosaur in Tyrannosaurus Rex: Mighty Meat Eater.”
Acquired: Received a review copy from Capstone Press.
Reason for Reading: I enjoy this publisher.
Basic easy reader focusing on what we know text between frames, and since this is a factual book without talking animals there are no speech bubbles within the book at all, making it a mix between a picture book and a graphic novel. Thabout how the T-Rex lived and died. Wonderful quality realistic illustrations are delightful and add understanding to the factual text. A simple graphic interface with four frames per two page spread, narrative e detail in this book is quite basic and easy to understand. Not as in depth and detailed as I’ve found in the other non-fiction titles I’ve read in the “First Graphics” series. The reading level is at the higher end of the given spread (K-3) and because of the specific topic does contain a few harder words but this would also be perfect for little ones who are reading ahead of age level.
Read article here -
A friend pointed out
to
First Things
– a magazine as deeply enamoured of Schonborn, as I have always been. I am not being sarcastic. I was wounded by the Cardinal’s act precisely because I have always deeply respected his theological gift. So, please check out the article. I don’t demand that you agree with my dissent from the Cardinal’s act. I just demand that you think about it. We all have bad days. Displeasing bloggers doesn’t prove you are having one, of course. I still think the Cardinal was having a bad week and maybe he can yet recover from it. May great grace come to him this Easter season. Vienna is messed up – please pray for him!
Originally posted here:
While I have been active with Twitter over the last month, it’s been hard to find the time to sit down and write more information blog articles. With the spiritual quiet of the Triduum now upon us, I thought it would be a good time to write a few back posts.
You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.
Read the article:
I want to thank
,
and everyone on the internet who was kind enough to keep me in their prayers. On Friday, March 16th, I was in an automobile accident. After spending three days in ICU at Clearfield Hospital (Pennsylvania), I was discharged and my
Deacon Jim Rush
drove me back to my parish. Although there were no broken bones (
Deo gratias
), I did incur injuries to my leg, arm, chest and lower torso (severe bruising and contusions). My Guardian Angel deserves a raise and promotion as I am most grateful for no breaks or fractures and am VERY grateful to be alive. I was driving back to my parish after visiting my mother in Erie. She had major surgery on her spine last month in Pittsburgh. The operation was successful but she encountered several complications which placed her in ICU for a few days. She was then discharged and taken to skilled nursing facility in her home town of Erie. I was driving (300+ miles one way) every week to be with her. The Blessed Mother has been watching over her (and me).
I turned 50 on March 31st and sat with the elderly and handicapped priests at the Chrism Mass last Monday at the Harrisburg Cathedral. I was the youngest one in that pew but felt like the rest of my infirm brethren. We had to watch that our canes did not fall on the floor during the Bishop’s homily. Father Ken Brighenti (Vice Rector of Mount St. Mary Seminary, Emmitsburg, MD) has been very good in helping me recuperate and my doctor is pleased with my slow but steady recovery. I have been overwhelmed by the many cards and emails from friends at EWTN, Catholic Answers Radio, readers of our Dummies’ series and those of you who read this humble blog. Your prayers and support for both me and my mother are an invaluable treasure. It will take some weeks for my wounds to fully heal but I am most fortunate the Good Lord and His Blessed Mother have never left my side. Please continue to pray for mom as she, too, slowly recovers.
Please pray for my schoolmate Bishop William Skurla as he prepares to be installed as Archeparch of Pittsburgh for the Ruthenians on April 18.
GOD GRANT HIM MANY YEARS
Please pray for the soul of my late cousin, Father Stefan Katarzynski, a priest of the Diocese of Erie, who died today (April 5) in 1978. He was found murdered in his rectory. His parish had been beset with robberies and there was an active Satanic cult in the area at the time. Father Steve (as we called him) was very influential in me entering High School Seminary. He and my late pastor, Msgr. Ennis Connelly, were true role models, along with my mentor and dear friend, Father Bob Levis (who lives down the hall from my mother at the same nursing home). REQUIESCAT IN PACE
BUONA PASQUA
Original link:
was sitting behind us at Mass last night. She was weeping. She told me last week that her beloved sister died. After Mass she prayed at the altar of repose, and I am certain thought of Jesus, and His impending death that we will be carried through today, and of her sister.
Pain and death and sorrow. And Joy.
But not today. Not for those who mourn. Why does it hurt so much to be human?
Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted. Blessed are you, little Anna. Blessed are you because you mourn. Blessed are you because of your deep love for God. I wish I knew how to say, “Be comforted Anna, one day you will join your sister and be happy with Him in heaven,” in Italian. I think she would like to hear that in Italian right now. I would.
But I don’t know how. So I will pray for her. Please pray for sweet Anna, the repose of the soul of Anna’s sister, and her family.
Visit site -
