Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent 2017

By Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.

Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11

Find Sunday’s reading here: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/121017.cfm

Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.
Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.

The winter breaks during my college years were often times I would go home not only to visit family and friends, but also to earn some extra money to pay for my education. My family owned and operated a small concrete company in northern Wisconsin, so there was never a shortage of work. During the winter months I would sometimes be painting trim inside my dad’s office building or splitting firewood outside, and I loved when it snowed! If it snowed during winter break, it meant I got to snowplow! I would wake up early in the morning, fill up my thermos with coffee, drive out to the shop, fire up the John Deere front-end loader, and then start snowplowing the local grocery store, school, hospital, factories, and private residences. I loved it! Everything was quiet, still, and peaceful. I, along with other highway workers, were busy working after the blizzards had gone through, cleaning up the snowy mess while everyone else would be sound asleep in their beds. We were making the highways and byways safe for people to travel and arrive safely at their desired destinations.

While many of us Wisconsinites cannot relate to the desert travel experience mentioned in Isaiah 40:3, I think many of us can relate to an experience of tough travel through the “frozen tundra” of a Wisconsin winter. It is no secret that we love our automobiles, and we have a fantastic roadway system for travel, but this can all come to a halt when a blizzard hits. A blizzard can turn our functional roadways into slick sheets of ice or an unnavigable blanket of snow, making our usual commutes risky. If it weren’t for the work of those individuals who go out with their snowplows, snowblowers, and shovels, we might never get out of our houses! While the Israelites have been forced into exile, now is the time to travel back home, to prepare a highway not only for the people to travel, but a highway prepared for God’s return to Jerusalem.

Advent is intended to be a transformative experience for us as Christians. With a new year beginning 31 days before our secular calendar, we make time to reflect upon what we have done and what we plan to do in becoming better witnesses of faith.

—Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.

We can all imagine that desert travel is not easy. It is probably even harder than our travel through the snow, but God is at work in preparing a highway for the return of all to Jerusalem. This highway will be much like our interstate system. Isaiah proclaims, “Make straight in the wasteland a highway for our God! Every valley shall be filled in, every mountain and hill shall be made low; the rugged land shall be made a plain, the rough country, a broad valley. Then the glory of the LORD shall be revealed, and all people shall see it together; for the mouth of the LORD has spoken” (Is 40:3-5). But is this highway about us or is it more about God? Perhaps it is both.

On the one hand, there is a desire for us to return to God. In Isaiah, God instructs, “Comfort, give comfort to my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and proclaim to her that her service is at an end, her guilt is expiated; indeed, she has received from the hand of the LORD double for all her sins” (40:1-2). The punishment Israel endured, first by the hand of the Babylonians and then by Cyrus of Persia, was due to the fact that they did not remain faithful to the covenant. Now that debt, Israel’s penance, has been repaid, it is time to come home. God’s corrective action placed Israel in a weakened state in which they had no choice but to return to God. So it is, after receiving their penance, time for God to comfort the people in their lowly state. Now is the time for the refugees to return as the redeemed people of God,[1] to a restored Jerusalem.

On the other hand, from a perspective of an ancient Babylonian tradition, highways were seen as great triumphant processional paths for gods and kings to march into Babylonian cities.[2] In this case, one could assume that God left Jerusalem when the city was sacked by Israel’s enemies, and now is the moment of God’s triumphant return. The people have repented and done penance for their sins (40:2), therefore, now is the appropriate time for God to return and restore God’s great nation. And everyone needs to see this moment in history.

Winter TreeAfter being metaphorically shackled into exile and literally beaten down by war, now is the time for the Israelites to, “Go up on to a high mountain, Zion, herald of glad tidings; cry out at the top of your voice, Jerusalem, herald of good news! Fear not to cry out and say to the cities of Judah: Here is your God” (40:9)! In the midst of destruction and feeling abandoned by God, the people are now prepared to shout for joy, for God has returned. They trust in the promise that God will restore the people and the nation to greatness. The prophet proclaims, “Here comes with power, the Lord GOD, who rules by his strong arm; here is his reward with him, his recompense before him. Like a shepherd he feeds his flock; in his arms he gathers the lambs, carrying them in his bosom, and leading the ewes with care” (40:10-11). God reclaims the people and restores the covenant, offering the people protection and care because they are now open to receiving God.

Similarly, this is the hope and joy we await at the coming of the Incarnation. In the midst of a dark winter or a chaotic blizzard, can we trust and find joy in the promise God offers us in the covenant? Are we prepared to receive this gift and proclaim the good news? We must ask ourselves this Advent, is the highway to our own hearts ready for God to return to us? Has the highway been cleared of the snowfall from the chaotic blizzard that has hit our lives, or do we have some more work to do to clear the path in order for God to enter our hearts?

I recognize that this requires work and effort on our part, but we do not do it alone or in vain because we have faith. We have received God’s grace. We can count on God to fulfill God’s promise in providing us with God’s love and mercy. God offers us God’s hesed—the unselfish, loyal love God always brings to the covenant. The efforts we put into our lives in allowing God to enter our hearts, will build up a Zion in which all peoples will look towards us to radiate God’s love and kindness—God’s hesed. Advent is intended to be a transformative experience for us as Christians. With a new year beginning 31 days before our secular calendar, we make time to reflect upon what we have done and what we plan to do in becoming better witnesses of faith. As children redeemed by God, we have a special place and task of reflecting God’s hesed to the world. Before we rejoice in God’s Incarnation, let us first recall God’s redemption and welcome that grace into our hearts to prepare the highway which leads us to God and God to us.


[1] Brevard S. Childs, Isaiah, The Old Testament Library (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2001), 299.
[2] Christopher R. Seitz, The Book of Isaiah, Vo VI, The New Interpreter’s Bible (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 2001), 335.

More opportunities to celebrate the season of Advent at St. Norbert Abbey »

Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent 2017

By Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.

Isaiah 63:16b-17, 19b; 64:2b-7

Find Sunday’s reading here: http://usccb.org/bible/readings/120317.cfm

Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.
Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.

In 1972 a study was published by psychologist Walter Mischel which has come today to be known as Stanford University’s Marshmallow Experiment. In this experiment children were placed in a room with a marshmallow in front of them. The children were told that they could eat the marshmallow, but if they waited for the tester to get back, the children could have two marshmallows. As you can imagine the video tapes of these children are quite funny. Children’s responses ranged across the spectrum: some children ate the marshmallow immediately; some children danced in their seat or licked the marshmallow until they would finally succumb to temptation and eat the whole thing; and some children waited the entire period until the tester returned and they received their second marshmallow. What this experiment has attempted to uncover is a link between delayed gratification and success—the longer children could delay gratification the more likely they would be successful in the future.

In watching the video of the Marshmallow Experiment, I couldn’t help but think how impatient we have become as a culture here in the United States. When I want something, I want it now! I’m sure many of us have heard that “patience is a virtue,” that good will come to those who wait. But is patience something we can develop? Is patience really required for a virtuous life? Yes, patience is a virtue, and we need it! Patience allows us to become like God, to share in God’s goodness. Patience gives us self-mastery of our will in our attempt to live the moral life, and thus patience is something we need to work on. God has been patient and continues to be patient with God’s people because God desires a relationship with humanity.

God will patiently wait for us to return to God because God is hungry for a relationship with us, yet we test God. Like the people of Israel we say, “You, LORD, are our father, our redeemer you are named forever. Why do you let us wander, O LORD, from your ways, and harden our hearts so that we fear you not? Return for the sake of your servants, the tribes of your heritage” (Is 63:16-17). The people in Isaiah suggest that either God hasn’t been a good parent in teaching them how to be patient and live in right conduct. Or they are just like children who cannot wait, and want God to come back and fix all of their mistakes. Since God is perfect, I would suggest that it is the later. God gives us the grace of patience, but often we choose not to strengthen the skill, and thus like the children who demonstrate a lack of patience in the marshmallow experiment, we too aren’t very successful later in life if we lack patience. Thankfully, we don’t have to go through life all on our own, relying on our own skill, because we have God, who helps us through the challenges.

MarshmallowsJust like Israel, who is in need of God’s help, we too need help. Israel has experienced the devastation of war and exile: there is no king; the nation is not of great significance commercially or politically; and everything is in ruin.[1] The Israelites have fallen under the control of the Mesopotamians and Cyrus of Persia is now their political ruler. From an ancient Israelite perspective, we can understand Cyrus as God’s instrument who carries out God’s will.[2] God’s plan for the people, which is carried out by Cyrus, is to first lead the Israelites into exile and then restore them back to the Promised Land. However, this restoration doesn’t happen immediately—the people need to be patient, they need self-mastery. Yet they lament, they plead with God, asking God to “rend the heavens and come down” (63:19) and “wrought awesome deeds we could not hope for, such as they had not heard of from old” (64:2).

The people have come to recognize the need for God in their lives. They even recognize the need for patience! In their plea with God to “come down,” to be with them, they praise God’s glory, “No ear has ever heard, no eye ever seen, any God but you doing such deeds for those who wait for him” (64:3). “Those who wait for him,” those who patiently wait for God, are the ones who see the wonders of God. They are seeking to find God and waiting patiently for God’s coming. But this is not a passive event in which they sit on their rumps waiting for God to show up! No, those who wait patiently are preparing for God’s coming, so God “might meet us doing right, that we were mindful of you in our ways” (64:4)! Like the children in the marshmallow experiment, we have a marshmallow placed before us. The Church has placed before us the sacraments and the Word of God to stare down or “fidget” with. Will we take advantage of this opportunity? Or will we sit idly this Advent? Will we be caught “doing right,” as we prepare for the “second marshmallow,” God’s coming?

… Let us delay gratification, wait patiently, prepare ourselves to receive God’s grace, allow ourselves to be shaped by God’s hands in this season of Advent.

—Frater Jordan Neeck, O. Praem.

During this anxious waiting for God’s coming, the Israelites recognize their own faults: “Behold, you are angry, and we are sinful; all of us have become like unclean people, all our good deeds are like polluted rages; we have all withered like leaves, and our guilt carries us away like the wind. There is none who calls upon your name, who rouses himself to cling to you; for you have hidden your face from us and have delivered us up to our guilt” (64:4-6). The Israelites recognize they have lost control of their lives, and all they do means nothing without God among them. Human actions are weak, but with God’s grace, with God in our hearts and minds, all is made pure when God is with us.

Thus, there is a desire to open ourselves up, to be formed and shaped by God’s hands. As a good parent, we call upon God “our father” to be like a potter and we the clay, to be the work of God’s hands (64:7). And only when we open ourselves up to God’s grace can restoration occur, and we become a community, like Jerusalem, to be a beacon of God’s greatness to the entire world. We begin to offer God praise and give thanks for all God’s mighty works and deeds.

As we continue to anticipate the celebration of God’s coming through the Incarnation of Christ in the season of Christmas, let us not seek instant gratification by celebrating the joy of this revelation prematurely. But let us delay gratification, wait patiently, prepare ourselves to receive God’s grace, allow ourselves to be shaped by God’s hands in this season of Advent. Let us keep our eyes, ears, nostrils, mind, and heart—listening, watching, and waiting for the signs of God working in our lives these next four weeks by taking some extra time for prayer, reading God’s word, and celebrating the sacraments. May we not sit waiting, but as we wait, may we begin the transformation of aligning our lives more closely to God.


[1] John D.W. Watts, Isaiah 34-66, Vol 25, Word Biblical Commentary (Nashville: Word Inc., 1984), 79.
[2] Ibid, 68.

More opportunities to celebrate the season of Advent at St. Norbert Abbey »

Homily: Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord—April 16, 2017

Offered by Deacon Michael Brennan, O. Praem., at St. Norbert Abbey

This man God raised on the third day and granted that he be visible, not to all the people, but to us, the witnesses chosen by God in advance, who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.

—Acts: 10:40-41
Deacon Michael Brennan, O. Praem.
Deacon Michael Brennan, O. Praem.

Today on this glorious Easter morning, these words spoken by St. Peter centuries ago continue to echo across the years. These joyful words bounce off the walls and ceilings of this abbey church! They remind us on this Easter Sunday that Christ, our Lord is risen today! He is risen, indeed! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! These words resound in our hearts and souls.

The Risen Christ draws us to this Abbey Church on Easter morning! We too, will eat and drink with Christ at this table, on this Easter morning, with this Church gathered here. We have encountered the Risen Christ in Word, in sacrament, in one another. We know the Risen Christ; we believe in the Risen Christ.

However, on that first Easter Sunday, Mary, Peter, and the Beloved Disciple stood before the empty tomb bewildered. “For they did not yet understand the Scripture that he had to rise from the dead” (John 20:9).

If we’re honest with ourselves, do we understand this? Can we even begin to comprehend the Resurrection?

For three days, Jesus remained in the tomb. Dead. Not sleeping, not resting, but dead. We saw Him die. And the first day of the week, we arrive at the tomb and His body is gone.

Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord at St. Norbert Abbey
Easter Sunday of the Resurrection of the Lord at St. Norbert Abbey

During the next several moments, let’s imagine ourselves standing before the empty tomb on that first Easter Sunday. As we stand together with Mary, Peter, and the Beloved Disciple, let’s peer into the empty tomb and gaze upon the burial cloths of our Lord—our Friend, our Teacher. As we stand before the empty tomb, what do we experience? Do our hearts begin to race as the life of Jesus flashes before our eyes? Do we remember the first time this Jesus of Nazareth called our name, invited us to “come, follow me” (Matthew 4:19)?

In this silence before the empty tomb, we suddenly recall the moments that most astounded us: we witnessed Him granting sight to the blind; we stood in awe as He raised the dead; we were overcome with wonder as He fed thousands with just a few loaves and a couple of fish. Then His words come tumbling back: “What so ever you do for the least of my sisters and brothers you do unto me” (Matthew 25:40). “Love the Lord, your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, with all your strength and love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:37-39).

Then swiftly, like a tidal wave, we are immersed in the memories of these last few days. In these final hours leading us to this moment before the empty tomb, our Rabbi, our Teacher, our Friend became our Servant as He humbly knelt before us and washed our feet. Later that evening, we processed with Him to the garden. As we struggled to keep our eyes open, we overheard Him pray so intently, so sincerely to the Father. If we knew He was to be arrested, would we—could we—have stayed awake? Yet, we slept …

Suddenly, we were awakened by a cacophony of guards and onlookers who burst into the garden to seize our Lord, our Friend, our Leader. They came to drag Jesus away from us. Out of fear, many of us ran and hid. After the garden, we witnessed from afar that horrible trial—full of false accusations. Standing today, before this empty tomb, we now wish we could have said more, done more to defend this Man with whom we have journeyed so many days. Yet, we feared for our reputations. We feared for our very lives, so we stood back and watched. Our knees tremble as we recall the horror of those final hours. We hear the echoes of the crowds; we still sense the anger, the yelling. We feel the sadness, the crying. We remember His bruised and bloodied face. Nonetheless, through His pain, through our tears, we can still see His eyes. His eyes gaze upon us with love. For a moment, we remember Him looking at us; our eyes meet His and we feel His pain. His pain brought about by our sinfulness; His pain intended to console us in our darkest hours.

Are we too afraid to continue on to Golgotha, or were we among the brave women who followed Him to the end? Did we stand beneath the cross and hear His final words? Those of us who were there were overwhelmed by the words of our Rabbi, our Teacher, our Friend. As He hung upon the cross, amidst His unbearable suffering, He cried out for forgiveness for those who did this to Him. Even as He breathed His last, He thought of others before Himself. Upon His death, the earth shook violently, and then … then there was a great silence over the earth. A silence, a stillness like none other. This silence remained throughout His forty hours in the tomb.

But now, we stand here before this empty tomb. We stand before this empty tomb … we stand bewildered, lacking understanding. Slowly, we realize that we recognize this feeling: our own lives are filled with moments, with events that leave us bewildered. We have peered into plenty of empty tombs; there is much in our world that we do not yet understand. We stand before the empty tombs of damaged and broken relationships in our families and communities. We stand before the empty tombs of war and violence, bewildered by bombings, gas attacks—not understanding the violence that occurs in our homes and neighborhoods. We stand before the empty tombs of family members, confreres and friends, who endure illness and the challenges of old age.

We stand before all these empty tombs, bewildered, and we ask: “What has happened here? Where has Jesus gone? What will happen next?”

And then ever so slowly, we begin to remember His whole life has prepared us for this. We saw Him heal others; we saw Him raise the dead. Is this the moment for which all His words and deeds have prepared us?

As we stand before these empty tombs on this Easter Sunday, we know that the answer is, “Yes!” Our lives, in which we have encountered the words and deeds of the Risen Christ, have prepared us for Easter Sunday. Prepared us for these moments of the Easter Season; we go forth during the next 50 days of Easter to bring the joy, the promise, and the hope of the Risen Christ with us wherever we go. We bring the joy of the Risen Christ into the brokenness of our families and communities—filled with the hope and the promise that the Risen Christ can begin to transform our homes, our communities into places of resurrection. We bring the hope of the Risen Christ as we stand up and speak out for all those who are victims of violence, of war, of mass incarceration … that they, too, may experience the Risen Christ! We bring the joy of the Risen Christ to those who endure illness as we begin to recognize the privilege of walking with them in their suffering. We bring the joy of the Risen Christ into the public arena to speak for justice and to offer hope and promise to the homeless, the immigrant, the refugee.

As we eat and drink with the Risen Christ today, we are invited to burst forth from these doors, just as the Risen Christ burst forth from the tomb. As we begin this Easter Season, we are invited to burst forth with a message of deep and abiding joy into a world full of empty tombs. We are encouraged to go forth and encounter the Risen Christ. We are empowered to bring the hope, the promise, and the joy of the Risen Christ into all the moments of our lives!

The “Clickbait” of the Cross

By Fr. Bradley Vanden Branden, O. Praem.

By no means would I consider myself a social media aficionado. To be honest ­(or “tbh”),  Twitter is too much for me to figure out, my LinkedIn profile is left wanting, I’ve tried and tried again to make it in the blogosphere, and I’ve never even visited Reddit. Instagram is slowly growing on me, and the students and staff at Notre Dame de la Baie Academy know how much I pride myself on crafting ridiculously “catchy” hashtags: #ShamelessPlug.

Yet, I’m still a sucker for “clickbait.”

You know—clickbait: those sneaky headlines that tantalize your imagination and make you second-guess scrolling past them. It could be something as innocent as, “Did You Know This Common Household Item Could Do This?” to more edgy slogans like, “Top Vatican Official Reveals the Truth.” And it never fails; I click on the bait.

I’m not sure why I fall for it … am I secretly hoping to discover the cleaning potential of sliced lemons? I don’t think so! Still, the clickbait is just so tempting, there are many times I can’t seem to take my attention from it as I’m browsing my social media accounts.

It’s strange, though, that as much as lemon-based cleaning products and supposed Vatican truths can catch our eyes, we’ve grown blind to the clickbait that Jesus presents.

Jesus was all about using catchy stories and creative words to teach His followers about the Kingdom of God. Think about stories of lost sheep and lost coins (Lk 15:1-10), of wedding guests and street people (Mt 22:1-14), and of salt and light (Mt 5:13-16). Suddenly these images become too stale or boring for us. We view these creative lessons of Jesus as less about intrigue and truth, and more about obligation and duty. They land on our deaf ears.

Perhaps this Lent, we could change our browsing habits from household cleaners and suggestive NewsBytes to an even more elusive piece of clickbait: the cross.

All of Jesus’ teaching and preaching culminated in that moment where He hung on that cross, isolated from any followers. It was on that rugged piece of torturous equipment that the Lord hung and forgave us for having deaf ears. It was on that wooden harness that Christ gave His own Mother and Beloved Disciple to each other as a model for the Church. It was on that gnarly post that the Son of God spent Himself completely for all of us.

This Calvary-clickbait has echoed throughout Christianity for millennia, and still can be used today to inspire us toward a rejuvenated devotion to what the Lord taught us. Learn from His stories and example. Find ways to:

  • better support the poor.
  • 
feed and clothe the homeless.
  • visit the lonely or elderly.
  • welcome the relational or ideological other.
  • advocate for refugees and migrants.
  • love those who have different abilities than you.
  • pray for the dying.

No doubt, these merciful acts are not easy. They require that we give of ourselves, which is never an easy task. Instead of looking for followers of our own, suddenly we are being invited to follow Jesus alone. Although He gave His all on the cross, we are being asked to give a part of ourselves in service to our brothers and sisters. Yet, it was also His cross that ushered in the Resurrection.

This Lent, stop falling for the clickbait that leads nowhere. Instead, follow the clickbait of the cross. Use that event of selfless love, forgiveness, and service as a model for your own spiritual development, so that you, too, can join in Easter joy—transformed and renewed in your own call to holiness.

Lent2017: #Love. #Forgive. #Service.

Learn more about the spiritual and corporal works of mercy in the Spring/Summer 2016 issue of Abbey Magazine (pages 4-5).

More opportunities to celebrate the sacred season of Lent at St. Norbert Abbey »

The Stations of the Cross: A Thoroughly Catholic Devotion

As seen in “The Compass”; reprinted with permission

By Fr. James Neilson, O. Praem.

 The Eighth Station: Jesus meets the women, as portrayed at Our Lady of Lourdes, De Pere | Photo by Fr. Tim Shillcox, O. Praem.

The Eighth Station: Jesus meets the women, as portrayed at Our Lady of Lourdes, De Pere | Photo by Fr. Tim Shillcox, O. Praem.

The Stations of the Cross, one of our most beloved devotions, chronicles the last few hours of the life of Jesus Christ and is a way for the faithful to literally walk with the Lord in prayerful gratitude, wonder, and awe.

Whereas history does not provide us with specific evidence of the very first visual (artistic) articulation of the Stations of the Cross, we might well imagine the origin of this popular devotion occurring as our ancestors in the faith walked along the very “way of the cross” in the streets and roads of Jerusalem and pondered in their hearts the great mystery of the passion and death of Jesus.

I like to imagine that perhaps it was Mary herself, in the company of the unnamed women and children of Jerusalem, the apostles and Simon of Cyrene with his sons, Alexander and Rufus, who, after the crucifixion, walked and rewalked the very steps they took in the company of Jesus on that first Good Friday. I wonder if they didn’t pause, periodically, to recall the memory of that very day and their great love for Jesus—and over time, others joined them along this Via Dolorosa, accompanying them with their own memories and prayers, sharing together a mutual love and affection for the presence of Jesus in their lives—yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Many of our most treasured religious and secular rites and rituals, customs, and traditions, have uncertain origins; but what we most certainly and assuredly know about the Stations of the Cross is that its origin is literally in every step of Jesus en route to the sacrifice upon the cross. The practice of ritually and artistically categorizing the footsteps of Jesus along the way to Calvary is equally obscure and its history is subject to great debate. But we are confident that our current 14 Stations of the Cross have evolved in tandem with the Church’s revelation of the presence of the living Christ in our midst, in our own here-and-now.

The placement in our churches of 14 visual articulations of those final hours in the life of Jesus inclines us to recognize and remember an essential aspect of our Christian faith; namely, that our salvation is linked to the suffering of Christ who, even as he bore the torment of hostility and fear of those who hoped to eradicate his presence on earth, he persevered toward God’s divine will with nobility and courage, with tenderness toward the most marginalized and hopeful reliance on the emerging strength of others.

The placement of 14 images of the last hours of the life of Jesus in (or upon the grounds) of a church or a chapel allows us to sense the magnitude of this sacred narrative and to discern its ongoing relevance in our lives. Without these visual cues, these sacred works of art, we are impoverished and risk forgetting the immensity of God’s great love for the world.

That there are five traditional Stations of the Cross that depict instances not recorded in sacred Scripture (there is, in fact, no scriptural record of Jesus falling three times along the route to Calvary nor are there exact passages citing the meeting of Jesus with his mother or Veronica) is not a worrisome matter for a devout and sincere Catholic. Rather, those particular stations reveal the extent of the Christian imagination and how it is rooted in the art of logical, poetic, and compassionate inference.

The inclusion of three stations, wherein Jesus falls along the way, reveals many things that we know to be true: the crushing weight of life and all its complexities can cause all of us to stumble along the way and we then rely on others (like Simon) to assist us. The Catholic imagination delights in recognizing how our journey in life is intimately known to Jesus.

That we believe Jesus met Mary along the way to Calvary feels only natural to the believing imagination as we know, from sacred Scripture, she is there later at the foot of the cross; would not any of our own mothers demure from accompanying us along our own way of the cross? Mary’s presence reveals what we know to be true among women who are full of grace: they walk with us and for us, even when we believe we can’t see them.

Of course, Veronica acts as a counterpoint to Simon; as Simon was ordered to assist Jesus, we have a family legend that recalls the power and beauty of freely and naturally offering one’s assistance to someone in need. Veronica recalls for us a beautiful truth; we have all, at one time or another, enjoyed the sweet relief of someone freely and wonderfully coming to our aid, comforting us with a moment of surprising relief.

During the season of Lent, the church invites us to enter more mindfully into the Passion of Jesus, to set aside a bit of time wherein we can more fully recall the courage and conviction of our Lord’s love of us, particularly as this was made manifest on that first Good Friday.

The Stations of the Cross that we find in our cathedral and local churches, act as catalysts to remember the strength and dignity, the resolve and determination, the complete and overwhelming goodness of Jesus, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Whenever we actively pray the Stations of the Cross, either alone or in the company of fellow believers, we extend a great legacy and tradition of the Church, linking our prayers and footsteps with the very prayers and footsteps of Jesus, our Blessed Mother, the apostles and disciples, the saints and the martyrs, and countless generations of faith-filled men, women, and children.

Fr. Neilson is assistant professor of art at St. Norbert College. Learn more about the Stations of the Cross as a popular devotion in the Fall/Winter 2016 issue of Abbey Magazine (pages 7-10).

More opportunities to celebrate the sacred season of Lent at St. Norbert Abbey »

Restless Hearts Returning to God: Lessons for Living in Lent 2017

St. Norbert Abbey presents “Restless Hearts Returning to God”—a series of Lenten video reflections by Fr. Matthew Dougherty, O. Praem.

from St. Norbert Abbey on Vimeo

Ash Wednesday 2017

The First Sunday of Lent 2017

The Second Sunday of Lent 2017

The Third Sunday of Lent 2017

The Fourth Sunday of Lent 2017

The Fifth Sunday of Lent 2017

Palm Sunday 2017

Easter Sunday 2017

More opportunities to celebrate the season of Lent at St. Norbert Abbey »

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday of Advent 2016

Really?

By Sr. Shawn Madigan, CSJ, Ph.D.

Distinguished Professor (Emerita) of Theology
St. Catherine University, St. Paul, Minnesota

‘God is with us.’

—Matthew 1:23

(Really? Yes, Really!)

Sr. Shawn Madigan, CSJ
Sr. Shawn Madigan, CSJ

It’s a familiar Sunday gospel. We hear it every year.
This Advent Sunday, “God’s with us” so don’t fear.

The story has a couple, faithful woman and loving man.
Their love includes a tension that neither one had planned.

Some angel then appears. The child is Godlike blessing.
The Spirit of God was there so no more worried guessing!

Well, Mary seemed at peace but Joseph’s love was confused it seems.
There’s a Law his love ignores. Then Joseph has his dreams!

I know how this story continues. Soon all the angels are singing
“Glory to God and peace to all” throughout the heavens ringing.

I don’t envy this season’s pageants with children living the parts.
Yet I live in a real world. It’s not easy to change human hearts.

Look at the homeless people, hungry children at food pantry doors,
A growing gap between rich and poor, hate causing so many wars!

Whole countries are disappearing! Just look at the daily destruction.
If “God is really with us,” where’s the good construction?

I know this sounds like Scrooge, with the Spirit of hope long gone.
Can I believe God’s with us ? Is God’s love continuing on?

Yes, Really!

Well, let’s start with angels, the kind that does not have wings.
Who do you love and who loves you as you celebrate “Christmas” things?

Who can still move your heart to become something more than you seem?
Aren’t these some angels who urge even your heart to dream?

Where are Mary and Joseph whose love changed their way of seeing?
They might be you whenever your love makes you a kind of new Be-ing.

Today’s story is not just for children to act out in their pageant years.
Today’s story is for adults who have lived through joys and tears.

Today is about God’s dream for you as it was and always will be.
Mary, Joseph, God’s story of love includes us all, you see.

Emmanuel, God is with us, in every age and nation.
YOU are God’s continuing story, a unique part of transformation.

Can you still hope God’s with us? That’s a message for today.
Are you becoming God’s dream? For that, let us all pray!

An Advent Prayer

O come Emmanuel. Open our hearts live the unique dream God has for us and for all! Amen. Come Lord Jesus!

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Reflection for the Second Sunday of Advent 2016

By Diann Wimmer

Norbertine Associate, St. Norbert Abbey

Diann Wimmer
Diann Wimmer

Prepare the Way of the Lord:
Imagine profound PEACE.
Live in HARMONY and HOPE.
Be filled with FIRE and the HOLY SPIRIT.

The Scripture readings of the second Sunday of Advent again prove that the Bible prefers to “talk in images.” Today we hear the stories of animals, trees, deserts, mountains, sandals, locusts, wild honey, water, and fire. Each story with its images holds the secret of a deep spiritual reality.

For example, imagine a shoot that sprouts from a stump. With surprise, we see new life—an awakening from what seemed dead. Like the shoot, God’s action comes forth when least expected and when the world is troubled with violent death. But God brings life, love, and light to a dark world.

Could this shoot, this promise of new life, be the story of Christmas?

Also imagine animals that, by instinct, are hostile and aggressive, but now exist in harmony and peace: the lion and the lamb or the leopard and the kid. This reading reminds one of the peaceable kingdom of the Garden of Eden. But our world suffers disorder and war and needs to hear of the proclamation of Psalm 72: “Justice shall flower in his days, and profound peace, till the moon be no more.”

Could the coming of this impossible peace be the promise of Christmas?

Then imagine the Glory of Sion, the Holy Mountain, a center for a new world where people of all nations come together. A new exodus where people from north, south, east, and west move as ONE, singing with one accord and with one voice.

Could this harmony among all nations be the invitation of Christmas?

Imagine living in the desert, eating locusts and wild honey. With such discipline and solitude comes the encounter with the true self and with a merciful God. From this desert air, a voice cries out, “Prepare the Way of the Lord.” Indeed the prophet emerges filled with the presence of God and the courage to preach conversion of heart.

Could this desert-solitude help to prepare our hearts for Christmas?

Finally, imagine reaching down and loosening the sandals of a great and gracious person, one who is prophet and Messiah. John the Baptist declares his unworthiness and steps aside to announce “the one who is coming after me.” This one will baptize with FIRE and the HOLY SPIRIT.

Could humility be the path to acceptance of FIRE and the HOLY SPIRIT this Christmas?

Therefore, the readings of this second Sunday of Advent engage our imagination. The images of stumps, animals, mountains, deserts, locusts, wild honey, water, and sandals all hold a deep meaning for our preparation of Christmas. If we listen with open hearts, we may hear the invitation to the awakening of new life, to unbelievable peace, to harmony among nations, and to solitude and humility that show the way to FIRE and the HOLY SPIRIT. May God bless us with these spiritual gifts.

Closing Prayer

We come, dear God, to prepare our minds, hearts, and lives
for the celebration of Christmas.
Let us imagine profound PEACE.
Let us live in HARMONY and HOPE.
And, in your mercy, fill us with FIRE and the HOLY SPIRIT.
Amen.

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Reflection for the First Sunday of Advent 2016

By Fr. Tim Shillcox, O. Praem.

They shall beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks;
one nation shall not raise the sword against another,
nor shall they train for war again.
O house of Jacob, come,
let us walk in the light of the Lord!

—Isaiah 2:5
Fr. Tim Shillcox, O. Praem.
Fr. Tim Shillcox, O. Praem.

It was Lent (not Advent)—Ash Wednesday Mass at Prémontré High School in Green Bay. I was recruited to help distribute ashes—a smear of a cross on students’ foreheads with the words:

“Turn away from sin and believe the Gospel!”

One young man, Rod, approached—unkempt, surly, and not thrilled to be there. Brushing his “mop” of hair to the side, I earnestly administered the penitential sign:

“Turn away from sin and believe the Gospel!”

He shrugged his shoulders, looked at me with disgust, and whispered, “Yeah, right!” as if to say, “That’s not gonna happen!”

Entering this week, into the 2,000-year stretch of waiting, which is Advent, we hear Isaiah’s cherished prophecy—weapons become garden implements; military science falls from the human curriculum. We may be tempted to stand in bitterness and cynicism with that ash-smeared, young man:

“Yeah, right. That’s not gonna happen!”

Just as Israel’s “wait” for the Messiah was longer than anyone expected at the beginning, so is the Christian Advent which awaits the Second Coming of Christ—the total destruction of death, end of the world, the fulfillment of the Gospel Dream, and the Eternal and Universal Kingdom of Peace and Justice.

Our patience repeatedly “worn out by the journey” (Numbers 21:4), we grumble many times, we throw in the towel, and yield to pessimism, even despair. The flame of faith and hope goes out. “God’s Time” certainly isn’t paying attention to our expectations! And the world is such a mess!

But since “a thousand ages in God’s sight are like an evening gone” (Psalm 90:4), we must do something to keep Hope alive!

Perhaps the right question:

  • Do we really believe that God is faithful? (Psalm 117:2)
  • Do we trust that what the Prophets foretell can happen?
  • Do we really trust that the Gospel can be lived in such a way as to bring about the Kingdom?
  • Is Jesus real?
  • Do we stake our life on Him?

It’s tempting to hedge our bets, including religion—just in case. But Faith defies that logic; Faith demands we take a leap … and let God be in control. Faith isn’t a safety net, but realizing that in Christ, we don’t need a safety net of our own making.

Could it be that we’re the ones holding up the Advent of the Kingdom?  Since “God’s patience is directed toward our salvation” (2 Peter 3:15), is it us who have put roadblocks in the way of justice and peace?

The Advent readings invite us to live as children of the light. That Kingdom light cast upon our words, attitudes, practices, relationships, habits, operating assumptions, and presumptions these Advent days has the power to heal, and reform us more completely in the Kingdom Vision.

The observation that all of our life is Advent is true enough—waiting for Christ to come for fulfillment and take us home.

But annual Advent, beginning with these Scriptures, reminds us of our essential role in that eternal project. It’s just the jumpstart we need, to see things in a different light.

The season invites us to a subtle, yet powerful form of renewal and repentance—taking responsibility for ourselves, walking in the Light of the Lord, and allowing that light to shine the truth on anything that wouldn’t be at home in that Gospel Kingdom.

Maybe WE need to beat OUR swords into plowshares, OUR spears into pruning hooks? Maybe as Aaron Rodgers would say, we need to “get after it”—peace and justice—more earnestly? Maybe we’re the ones holding things up?

It’s not God taking so long.
Perhaps it’s us—the Church, the human family,
having had everything necessary
since the birth, life, death, resurrection, and glorification of Jesus long ago!

May our Advent eagerness, earnestness, and our allowing the Light of Christ to permeate everything we are and do as days grow shorter inspire us to risk full cooperation with God in hastening the Great and Final Day of the Lord Jesus Christ and the Peaceable Kingdom for which we so yearn!

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Let us pray:

Come Lord Jesus, Light of the World!
Shine into our minds and hearts, our lives and relationships.
Inspire us anew, by the Gospel Vision;
and compel us by the Holy Spirit to do our part, with You,
in seeing to it that the Gospel Word continues to take flesh and dwell within us and among us!
You are that Word—Jesus Christ–our Lord and our Hope, forever and ever!
Amen!

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