Hope in God’s Plan
Our Lenten theme, “Jeremiah 29:11 – Hope in God’s Plan,” focuses on trusting God’s purposeful plan for our lives, even in difficult times. As we reflect on this verse, we join with the universal Church in the Jubilee Year theme “Pilgrims of hope”, reminding ourselves that God’s plans bring a future filled with promise, guiding us through our Lenten journey with faith and expectation.
LENT 2025 Hope in God’s Plan
Jeremiah 29:11-12 For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope. 12 Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you.
The liturgical season of Lent begins today. We start our journey with the whole Church as day by day we move toward the Triduum, the three days of praying through Christ’s passion to His resurrection. In this jubilee year, Pope Francis has called us to be “pilgrims of hope” who walk together in prayer, steadfast in our commitment to become more aware of the need to encounter one another in Christ’s beloved community. Ash Wednesday begins that journey each year, reaching into God’s loving patience and mercy as we make our way through these next 40 days. At Holy Cross College, we have turned to the words of the prophet Jeremiah 29:11-12 to reflect on God’s desire to gift us with future filled with hope. When I read Jeremiah’s passage above, I linger over the last sentence. What a hopeful image to see our loving God waiting for us to call upon him with our prayers anchored in the promise that we will be heard echoed here, “Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you.”
Lent, with its reference to the spring season, has traditionally been the time to attend to what we are going to do…fast from foods or things we enjoy, pray more, and offer alms to provide for the needs of others. The perennial question of “what am I going to do?” might be missing the point of this penitential season. I wonder, as we move out of the darkness and silence of winter and into the warmth of an emerging spring that the intentions of our Lenten promises are best understood as being open to what God is doing in our lives when we pray more, fast and give alms. How do my efforts of fasting open my heart to encounter God’s desire to listen to me and hear me. In what ways do my prayers rest in the confidence that God is patient and waits for me to turn toward him? How does the offering of alms reflect the love of neighbor in my heart, which God is continuously filling with compassion and justice? I wonder what is possible if this Lent we center our lives on the promise of the forgiveness our sins that opens us to the true transformation to become more like the Christ who journeys toward the Cross, confident in the hope that it brings for humanity and creation.
This is a call to pray together as “Christ’s beloved community” at Holy Cross College and be embraced by a loving God whose promise is filled with hope for the future we share with all of humanity. As in the tradition of the Congregation of Holy Cross, with a God who is ever listening and hearing, we can proclaim, “Ave Crux, Spes Unica; Hail Cross, Our only hope.”
The first few days of Lent, between Ash Wednesday and the first Sunday of Lent are what I jokingly refer to as the “free trial period”. Perhaps you had great ambitious plans for your prayer, fasting, and almsgiving well before Ash Wednesday and now you are living into what that will look like in your day-to-day life, considering if you can manage this for all 40 days.Maybe you woke up on Wednesday morning and still didn’t exactly know what the plan for Lent was. You knew you wanted to do something or that you should do something because you have given up chocolate every year that you can imagine but are still kind of figuring that out.
Regardless of your plan for Lent, I encourage you to take the few days of this “free trial period” to ask the Lord what his plan for you this Lent might be – the areas of prayer, fasting and giving that He would like to invite you to grow in.
Sometimes I find these are different than what I would choose, like being called to do less than I see my friends doing for their Lenten observances or focusing on a habit I don’t really want to work on. Lent is not about how much we can give up or do, or even how well we can stick to our plan, but how what we do helps us grow in relationship with the Lord because that is always a part of his plan and that certainly gives me hope no matter what I commit to after the Lenten trial period ends.
– Trisha McCarthy
Women’s Hall Director
In this week’s Gospel for the first Sunday of Lent, we hear about Jesus’ temptation in the desert. “Filled with the Holy Spirit”, He perseveres against the devil’s lies and tempting bodily desires. What can we learn from Jesus? While earthly goods may be satisfying, they are worthless if you forget there is more to God’s plan for you. Not letting temptation replace following God first and foremost is a great challenge. But so long as we are likewise “filled with the Holy Spirit”, we will be perfectly full.During the height of the Covid-19 pandemic, I didn’t receive the sacraments of Reconciliation or Holy Communion for over a year. I didn’t attend Mass physically, but I participated from home via livestreams. I thought that I was doing enough for the time being, and that my relationship with God was stable and acceptable. I was attending one of the best Catholic universities in the world, studying a major I decided in the 9th grade would lead to professional, financial, and creative success, had supportive family and friends, and overall thought I had a good life on paper. However, at my core, I was debating switching majors or schools altogether, I was anxious over the fact that I couldn’t comfortably visualize my 20-year life plan as well as I could in high school, I slowly grew bitter against my friends and family because I didn’t trust they knew me since I didn’t know who I was myself, and I was scared that my relationship with God was not as strong as it ought to be. In the midst of chasing worldly accomplishments, I distracted myself well enough to not leave any room in my plate for God besides my weekly Sunday commitment. I was growing out of the safe box of my own creation that I rooted myself in, and I struggled to accept to be replanted somewhere bigger with better opportunities.
Who am I and what am I supposed to do if I am not a college student, I don’t have a good job, and I don’t have friends or family? I was terrified to find out because I was grasping onto what I deemed was “success” and I didn’t want to be wrong. What is the point of going to Confession if I think I’ve done nothing wrong? I was struggling to find my purpose in life, what job I should commit to doing for the rest of my life, and overall questioning who I was as a person without the embellishments of networking and worldly accomplishments.
I thought I wasn’t expecting much, yet I was constantly disappointing myself and desired more. I let go of God to make room to hold on to things and titles, but He didn’t let go of me. In the summer of 2021, I went back to confess and finally receive the body and blood of Jesus Christ after a long time. Over the past 4 years, I noticed that life somehow seemed more colorful, but I couldn’t pinpoint that moment of bloom until a few weeks ago during an hour of Adoration before the Blessed Sacrament, in the presence of Jesus in the Eucharist.
During this season of Lent, I hope you may join me in prayer and practice of putting our attention and trust outwardly towards God’s plan, rather than curling inwardly in a vain search of “success.”
Maria Gorecki
Assistant Director of Campus Ministry
I don’t know how my mom and dad did it. Growing up, my parents and I wanted me to have siblings and yet it wasn’t in the plans as we would have envisioned it.
My mom’s first pregnancy with my older brother ended in a miscarriage. After my birth, my mom went through six more pregnancies. I had another brother, my sister Angelica who died the day she was born, another sister, two more brothers, and then finally my youngest brother, Jacinto, who was born when I was finishing eighth grade. One of the most striking memories I have is holding my brother Jacinto the day after he was born, only to realize that he was already dead.
When I was in college, I visited Angelica’s and Jacinto’s gravesites alone and spent time with them. When I got back in the car and turned it on, I heard a song on the radio that I hadn’t heard before. It was George Strait’s “You’ll Be There.” The lyrics included, “I’ll see you on the other side/If I make it” and, “So if you’re up there watchin’ me/Would you talk to God and say/Tell him, I might need a hand/To see you both someday.” I teared up when I heard the lyrics as I knew Angelica and Jacinto were reaching out to connect with me with God’s grace.
I think about my siblings frequently and as I’m preparing for my own marriage, I’m hoping that the same thing that happened to my parents doesn’t happen to my fiancée and me. As a friend once told me though, “God doesn’t write the same story twice.”
And regardless of what happens in our lives, we hear from Jeremiah 29:11 that God is ultimately in charge. So regardless of the pain, the sorrow, or the cross that we’re given to bear, we can hope. As God says through Jeremiah, “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you…plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.”
I look forward to meeting my siblings in the next life and for all the graces to come in my upcoming marriage.
Juan A. Maldonado, II, MTS
Director of Academic Advising
Office of Student Success
Near the end of last semester, I unexpectedly discovered I would need a new living situation. Trying to find an affordable place within walking distance of campus was a source of some stress, and seeking out options added to my already very busy schedule.After pursuing several leads, I thought I would have to settle for a smaller place further from campus with a higher rent and multiple new roommates. It was not horrible by any means; but I knew it would be challenging. Yet, I figured I just had to accept it and make the best.
Throughout the process, I had honestly struggled with asking the Lord for anything beyond what was necessary. To do so felt like too much to ask (i.e. felt pampered); too much to hope for.
Then, when praying with my prayer group, simply seeking the Lord’s words for each other, a couple friends began to speak words from the Lord for me that invited me to hope for more.
“Perhaps there are little things in your life that could be better,” one said. “Like, ‘I wish it was this way and not that way, Lord.’ Voice those things and see if He wants to love you and make those things happen for you.”
“I hear the Lord saying, ‘Paula, whatever you need, I’m willing to do, because I want you to be calm or at rest. Don’t think anything’s too silly, too inconvenient or a burden to me. I’m so ready to see you soothed and see you restored,’” another friend said.
I felt the Lord gently challenge me: “Do you really believe I’m a God of abundance, who wants to take care of you generously?” I realized that by not asking or hoping for more, I had in some way been ignoring or denying part of God’s identity.
Then, the Holy Spirit prompted me to reach out to a friend closeby who I knew wasn’t interested in having a roommate. I was hesitant. But, she responded right away. She had had an encounter with the Lord the night before which had led her to suddenly be very open to the idea of a roommate, and she wanted to help me. I was stunned.
When moving day came, I was generously blessed by having considerably more than enough friends than were needed show up to help me move my boxes on a cold and rainy day, making the work quick and fun.
After returning to my old place to do a final cleaning of the space, I entered my new home and was immediately struck by the view of the flowing water in a beautiful pond right in the backyard. And I suddenly recalled that years ago I had told the Lord I would like to live very close to water someday. I had forgotten that; but He had remembered.
This home has indeed been a soothing place of restoration. I didn’t know to dream of it. Yet the Lord had dreams of it for me, and I needed to better acknowledge who He is and act in hope in his loving plans for good in order for those dreams to be realized.
Paula Lent
Holy Cross College Student
As a Mom of two little boys—one a toddler and the other a seven months old—sleep deprivation is a constant companion. The long, restless nights and the endless demands of tiny humans can make the days feel heavy and the future uncertain. Yet, in this Lenten season, I find comfort and strength in the words of Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”This verse reminds me that even in the exhaustion and chaos of motherhood, God’s plan is unfolding with purpose and forming me for Heaven. It’s not always easy to see the sunrise of the resurrection in my life when, in the middle of the night, I’m rocking my baby back to sleep for the third time or trying to get a toddler to sleep after three hours. Even still, I am learning to trust that these moments are part of a greater journey.
Motherhood is a pilgrimage—a path that requires patience, sacrifice, and faith. With each sleepless night, I am being refined and drawn closer to Christ, who carried the ultimate burden on the Cross. When the world sleeps and I’m with my kids, I think of the Cross. I think of the hope and redemption it brings and how, through this Lenten season, I’m being invited to unite my own small sufferings with Christ’s. The sleepless nights, the selflessness, and the love poured out for my children are, in their own way, a participation in the great mystery of the Resurrection.
So, I will press on, finding strength in the Cross and hope in the Resurrection. And I will trust that in these small, weary acts of love, God’s purposeful plan is being fulfilled—one sleepless night at a time.
Claire McNamara, M.Ed.
Academic Advisor
St. Joseph never planned to become the foster father of the Son of God. Betrothed to Mary, he likely anticipated a normal, respectable life with her. Yet when he discovered that Mary was pregnant, his initial impulse was to do what he thought honorable—quietly divorce her to spare her public disgrace. Then, in a dream, an angel of the Lord appeared, revealing that God was calling him to a destiny far greater than he had ever imagined. With humble obedience and unwavering faith, Joseph welcomed Mary into his home and raised Jesus as his own.
Later, when Herod threatened Jesus’ life, Joseph again trusted in God’s guidance by fleeing with Mary and the newborn Jesus into Egypt. I can only imagine how overwhelmed he must have felt. He never signed up for this extraordinary calling, yet he remained steadfast, obedient, and faithful — trusting that God’s plan was far greater than his own.
As bold and even intimidating as God’s plan for Joseph may seem, I believe our own experiences are not so dissimilar. God’s plan for each of us is no less radical. Ultimately, we are called to holiness—to be saints. Being a saint means safeguarding the presence of Christ in our lives—standing firm against modern forces that would diminish His love and sacrifice. We may never have to flee our homes, but we may be called to make our own courageous choices in the face of life’s challenges. We will all be called to make courageous decisions about our future, and how we remain steadfast in faith, hope, and love.
Today, on this Solemnity of St. Joseph, may we ask for his intercession to grant us the strength to live as he did, faithful to the Son of God. St. Joseph, pray for us!
Ethan F. Kelley, C.S.C.
Campus Ministry
I don’t know how my mom and dad did it. Growing up, my parents and I wanted me to have siblings and yet it wasn’t in the plans as we would have envisioned it.
My mom’s first pregnancy with my older brother ended in a miscarriage. After my birth, my mom went through six more pregnancies. I had another brother, my sister Angelica who died the day she was born, another sister, two more brothers, and then finally my youngest brother, Jacinto, who was born when I was finishing eighth grade. One of the most striking memories I have is holding my brother Jacinto the day after he was born, only to realize that he was already dead.
When I was in college, I visited Angelica’s and Jacinto’s gravesites alone and spent time with them. When I got back in the car and turned it on, I heard a song on the radio that I hadn’t heard before. It was George Strait’s “You’ll Be There.” The lyrics included, “I’ll see you on the other side/If I make it” and, “So if you’re up there watchin’ me/Would you talk to God and say/Tell him, I might need a hand/To see you both someday.” I teared up when I heard the lyrics as I knew Angelica and Jacinto were reaching out to connect with me with God’s grace.
I think about my siblings frequently and as I’m preparing for my own marriage, I’m hoping that the same thing that happened to my parents doesn’t happen to my fiancée and me. As a friend once told me though, “God doesn’t write the same story twice.” And regardless of what happens in our lives, we hear from Jeremiah 29:11 that God is ultimately in charge. So regardless of the pain, the sorrow, or the cross that we’re given to bear, we can hope. As God says through Jeremiah, “For I know well the plans I have in mind for you…plans for your welfare and not for woe, so as to give you a future of hope.”
I look forward to meeting my siblings in the next life and for all the graces to come in my upcoming marriage.
Juan A. Maldonado, II, MTS
Director of Academic Advising
Office of Student Success
The later stages of my life have truly deepened my belief that God has always had a plan for me. It’s fascinating how, often without realizing it, we find ourselves wrapping our lives around decisions and people that we didn’t know we needed.For me, this feeling is especially strong when I’m with my husband, Patrick. Our playful banter and love for each other confirms that God intended for him to be my biggest supporter. This realization has been a source of comfort and joy, particularly reflecting on my younger years after the loss of my mother. I remember praying every night for a spouse who would also be my best friend—something I had witnessed in my parents. A spouse that would help me grow as a wife, friend, disciple, or one day a mother.
At that time, my vision was understandably focused on surface qualities. However, looking back, I can see that God had a much deeper and more fulfilling plan in mind than I could have imagined. I truly believe that in the midst of our desires, God leads us to what we truly need.
Of course, it’s not always rainbows and sunshine; there are moments when we feel frustrated or hurt. But I hold close to the promise in Jeremiah 29:11, which assures us of God’s plans to prosper us and give us hope and a future. It’s like seeing the sun peek through the storm clouds.
There will be trials, and following God’s plan can sometimes lead us to dark days. Yet, as my husband sings every morning, whether we’re in a storm or in a field with a rainbow, “This is the day the Lord has made; let us REJOICE and BE GLAD.”
Samantha Derksen
Director of Admisions
Hope in God’s Plan for Today Those who know me know that Réne Girard is my intellectual hero. Girard spent much of his career attempting to convert people to the unique truth of Christianity. Yet in his final work, Battling to the End, he seems to lose hope. In this book Girard expresses doubt that humanity would embrace the Gospel, as evidenced by Jesus’ question, “when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith on Earth?” (Luke 18:8). After all, if Jesus believed his mission would successfully convert the world, he would not need to pose this question or predict an apocalyptic second coming. This convinced Girard that humanity would fall victim to an apocalypse of its own making. Essentially, Girard concluded that there is no hope for humanity in the present; the only hope for humanity was in the world to come.
Despite my admiration for Girard, I believe him to be mistaken on this account. His error is that he overlooked the Eucharist as the source of hope in the present. Sure, it is possible that humanity will fall into an apocalypse of its own making, and yes, it is unlikely that the world en masse will adopt Christianity. Yet, as the constitutions of the Congregation of Holy Cross remind us, we must be people “with hope to bring” (Constitutions, 118). The hope we bring is not a promise that things will be better tomorrow. For the Gospel of of Christ is not one that points to something distant. Rather it points to Christ himself. Consequently, the hope we bring is not a message of the future, but of the present.
This hope is actualized in the Eucharist. It is the reality that God is with us, and desires an intimate union with us in the present moment. Since the purpose of our lives is to enter into union with God, the reception of the Eucharist is the culmination of every human hope. And this hope is actualized in the present. God is with us – in our sufferings, in our victories and in everything in between.
We must never lose sight of the reality that God has a plan for us in the present. It is not one that will be later actualized (such as after graduation), but is intended for this very moment. We actualize God’s plan for us whenever we receive the Eucharist, and whenever we unite ourselves to God and to one another.
Fr. Brian Carpenter
Chaplain
Several years ago, a friend gave me a sweet housewarming gift – a framed quote: “For I know the plans I have for you…” (Jer. 29:11). In my world, I was turning a hard page, embarking on the next chapter of life – so this message was very comforting as I settled into my new home.
As time went on, I faced some challenges that made me wonder if I was being conscientious, acting with integrity on this journey. My conversations with God were peppered with questions and, admittedly, some frustrations and despair. I remember thinking, “Oh, YOU know the plans for me…. Why aren’t you TELLING me??!” I felt a little lost.
In a timely podcast about the sacrament of reconciliation, Father Mike Schmitz referenced Venerable Bruno Lanteri’s words:
“If I should fall even a thousand times a day, a thousand times, with peaceful repentance, I will say immediately, Nunc Coepi [Now I begin].”
Nunc Coepi. Begin again.
I was hoping to heal old wounds by going through the rituals, trying to move forward. But I was not allowing God’s mercy to seep into the depths of my heart and soul, where it could truly transform my relationship with Him. I sure knew how to fall; I had to figure out how I could get up, begin again. And again. Reconciliation.
Last Sunday, our wonderful pastor, Fr. Brian Carpenter, reflected on the Gospel parable of the fig tree that bore no fruit (Luke 13:1-9) : “When we don’t take our faith seriously… when we think that our faith is something we do on the side …we exhaust the soil.” In this parable, the gardener committed to rehabilitating the soil for the sake of the tree. Reconciliation.
NUNC COEPI!
The Lord calls us to Himself, through reconciliation, to full communion. God continuously invites us to the most hopeful life through Him, with Him, and in Him. So, when we doubt, question, or despair, can we do a ‘NUNC COEPI’ and begin again? I’m hopeful.
Dr. Phyllis Florian, Psy.D., LP
Director of Mental Health and Wellness
Honestly, I’m getting so tired of them: catch phrases, slogans. Ave Crux Spes Unica. Men with hope to bring. So on and so forth. Expressions and phrases like these often get repeated so frequently that they become worn out, overused—cliche’s if you will—losing their original meaning and impact, often becoming fodder for jokes. Lately at HoCro one such term is “Legacy—The Brothers’ Legacy”. While this helps to reflect an overall appreciation, I know for certain that my own legacy is not how much money I have or given away; nor is it a building named in my honor (I am speaking here for myself and no one else). All of this has got me doing a lot of thinking and praying lately. If people can’t tell who I am as a Brother of Holy Cross by the way I’m living my life day-to-day, then I’m the biggest of all failures. But I’m actually not worried because it’s not all about me. It never was and never will be. It’s all about God and those He puts in my life for a particular reason. See the soccer players practicing out on the field. They are my legacy. See that student with the courage to stand up for her fellow student. She is my legacy. See the students gathered together early in the morning in the chapel for prayer. That is my legacy. Notice the student in Pulte Hall who knocked on my door late at night to apologize for breaking a hall decoration without being told to do so. If he hadn’t reported himself, I would have never known who did it. He is my legacy. If, at the end of the day, just one student is a better person for having known me, that is my legacy.
The students here at HoCro are genuinely men and women with hope to bring. They do care about others. They’re not all about self, making money or becoming famous. (Sure, there is the exception now and then, but it remains the exception.) Don’t mess with them. They give me hope . They teach me, support me, and frequently correct me. I thank God for them. I love each one of them dearly.
Yes, indeed, I’m full of joyful hope. I’m very proud of my legacy as a Brother of Holy Cross
Bro. Jim Kozak, CSC
Imagine you’re navigating a particularly tough semester (or, quite frankly, just any season of your life). The courses are demanding, your schedule is packed, and everything feels overwhelming.In these moments, hope founded in God isn’t just a wish for more leisurely days; it’s a firm belief that you’re not walking through this season alone. It’s about trusting that each challenge is part of a larger plan crafted with wisdom and love.
This type of hope acts like a compass pointing toward resilience and peace, even when immediate circumstances suggest chaos. For example, when you face a daunting project or an intimidating exam, a hope rooted in God transforms your approach: you study, prepare, and do your part, but you also pray, release your anxieties, and trust that God will help you. It’s about doing your best and letting God handle the rest. When hope is connected to your faith, it also enriches the community around you. It turns your dorm room, study group, or even virtual class meetings into places where this hopeful perspective is shared. You become a beacon of encouragement, reminding others that there’s a bigger picture and a loving God who cares about their futures. Moreover, this hope teaches you to see failures and setbacks not as final but as formative opportunities to learn and grow stronger.
Just as the prodigal son from this past Sunday’s Gospel learned a great deal from his misadventures and returned home wiser, you too can view every low point as a step towards personal development and spiritual depth.
Finally, integrating this hope into your daily life might look like keeping a gratitude journal where you note what you’re thankful for and how you see God’s hand in your daily activities. It could involve joining campus ministry groups where this perspective is nurtured or setting aside time for reflection and meditation on scriptures reaffirming God’s promises and plans for you.
So, as you move through your college years, let this spiritually founded hope guide you like a steady current beneath a boat, pushing you forward and smoothing out the rough waters. It’s a way to not just survive but truly thrive (trust me, I am a student myself), knowing with certainty that every step you take is part of a divine journey toward becoming who you were meant to be.
Andy Rambadt
Student
Hoping in God’s plan is never easy. It requires us to be fully vulnerable and expose ourselves in ways that make us uncomfortable. It requires a full surrender to the will of God and a patience for his response.Last year was arguably the hardest year of my professional career. I had just uprooted my family from a town I loved with many friends who had become family, to take a new position in Florida that offered a better role and financial position for my family. It wasn’t a decision made lightly, but we were following where we felt God was leading us. Unfortunately, the move did not pan out quite as we had hoped. I found myself trapped in a community that was the opposite of the very word, a job with high toxicity, and the desperate feeling of no way out. THIS was God’s plan??
I was so angry. I was so frustrated. I had come to this place to do God’s work of ministry and here I am in this situation. Why, God? I couldn’t’ t wrap my head around it. The God who claims me as his son abandoned me.
At least that’s what I thought…
He was testing my very faith that I was trying to live out in my life. He wanted me to surrender. He wanted me to be FULLY his. He wanted me to remember that his will is his and not mine, and that his path for me is not for me to understand – but to follow.
And when I finally surrendered, humbled myself, and fully hoped in him – he delivered me. He gave me the courage to resign from a position I had just started 10 months prior. He gave me the faith that I knew I would find a home that loved me and my family. After a month of searching and praying, God brought me to the very place I had hoped for. He brought me to the very place where he wants me to be. He brought me to where HE had planned for me.
What I learned (among many other things) through this trial is that hope never fails. That God knows the desires of our hearts, and while he may not fulfill those desires how we want them fulfilled, he never leaves us. His plan is always greater than anything we can dream up for ourselves. It is never too late to go to the altar and say, “nothing but your will, Lord.”
Hope is VERY real.
Ave Crux, Spes Unica,
Kevin Myers, DWS
Director of Campus Ministry
Ave crux, spes unica.“Hail the cross, our only hope.”
As members of the Holy Cross College community, we are very familiar with these words. We see them on promotional materials around campus, chant them at our major events, and pray with them as a community. Ave crux, spes unica is baked into our community’s DNA.
To some, especially those outside of the Church, it might seem an odd or even backwards expression. Why would we hail the cross, an ancient device of torture? Why would we say it would bring us hope, let alone be our only source of hope? In a world that runs from and drowns out any acknowledgment of death, constantly gazing at an instrument meant to inflict death seems utterly insane. And, to some degree, they’re not wrong – the worst of humanity’s sin and perversion is put on full display in the image of Christ’s mangled body, hanging from the cross.
But the cross is exactly what enables us to have hope in the midst of suffering. Without Christ’s death and resurrection, suffering would be empty, meaningless pain without the hope of redemption or restoration. The cross is the source of our hope because it is the source of our salvation, of our reunification with God, and because it leads to the resurrection. Because Christ suffered and died in order to redeem us and reunite us with the Father, we can have confidence that he can use our own suffering to accomplish similar works of redemption.
This bit of theology has taken on flesh in recent days, upon hearing about the diagnosis of my dear friend and colleague Brother Bobby McFadden. I was shocked and greatly saddened when Brother Bobby called to tell me the news that, when investigating the source of some internal bleeding, his doctors had discovered cancer. Although he was somber regarding the diagnosis, I was moved by the optimism with which he talked about his future treatments, and even anticipation of when he could return to the classroom! This man has hope even in the face of suffering, because Christ’s cross has allowed him to have it.
The suffering of my friend has already begun to bear fruit, in my life and in the lives of everyone he has touched. Members of his community, both in the Congregation and at Holy Cross College, are banding together to care for him and show him their support. Hearts are being opened as people are having conversations to support each other through this trial. I’ve noticed for myself, as I’ve tried to support my friend as he begins to shoulder his cross, that I’ve felt more closely connected to Christ and his cross, which is preparing my own heart for Holy Week in a new way.
These forty days of Lent are meant to spiritually prepare us to enter into Christ’s paschal mystery – his suffering, death, and resurrection – so that we can more deeply live into our identity as a resurrection people, a people of hope. During this jubilee year of hope, let us not fail to take heart and have hope in the cross of Christ – for as surely as it reveals our suffering, it even moreso affirms our salvation.
Laura
Laura LeGare, M.S.
Instructor of Mathematics
This verse is a favorite for many people. In fact, it is hanging on the wall in my office. But have you ever wondered what the Lord means when he declares to give us “a future and a hope”? It seems like an odd thing, to give someone “a hope.” As I read it, scripture isn’t simply talking about the virtue of hope, but “a hope” seems to reference something tangible, experiential. So, as I ponder Jer 29:11, another quote I have on the same wall in my office comes to mind. It reads, “Trust the next chapter because you know the author.” I love this! Knowing that all things are in God’s hands, and because “we know all things work together for good for those who love God” (Rom 8:28), we know we are promised something that is “a hope.”
Since last September, I’ve been in a very long season of challenges. The challenges came one after the other without a break and often left me feeling like I was standing in the ocean being hit by continual waves where I was losing my footing. What were the waves? My mom suffered a stroke leading to extensive care for her and my dad including constant out of town travel; two months of poor health fighting RSV and pneumonia; my mom’s eventual death and helping my dad with all that brings; nursing a sick dog back to health for over a month; the death of a dear uncle; a cousin’s cancer diagnosis; and trying to support various friends as they faced life altering challenges.
During this season, I have been grateful for the two signs in my office that became visible reminders of God’s truth, and His promises to me. Both the Hebrew and Greek translation of “a hope” means to have a “confident expectation” for what God has promised. And I know the author of every chapter – the One who created me, Who knows every hair on my head, died for my sins, and holds me in the palm of His hand. For me, holding on to the promise of “a future and a hope” through this season of suffering means I am ASSURED that God has good things in store for me; not only that the storms will eventually pass but that going through these storms will have a purpose in my life and will ultimately show themselves producing good fruit.
As spring is budding all around us and we enter the holiest of weeks, let us all be reminded that the Lord always has the last word, and that word is the promise of His victory on the cross: Resurrection
Carolyn Kitz
Director of Student Activities
I have learned a lot about the experience of prayer in the last months since my sweet granddaughter, Gracie, was diagnosed with brain cancer. I have prayed nearly every waking moment since December. Always asking God that she would be healed, be comforted and be given strength. I do not doubt that God hears my prayers and the promised prayers of many people. Not a day goes by that someone does not tell me or send a message of their prayers for Grace. I am so grateful for every prayer. Gracie grows stronger daily and meets every step of her treatments with courage and confidence. During the intensity of these days, my mind is filled the sacred noise of pleads, lamentations, Hail Marys, novenas, and prayers to St. Andre Bissette and St. Joseph.In the past week, I came across one of my favorite prayers, the Anima Christi, the “Soul of Christ” and I began to pray it each morning and night. I pray each sentence slowly and deliberately, allowing my mind to see moments of Christ’s passion: “Soul of Christ, sanctify me. Body of Christ, save me. Blood of Christ, inebriate me. Water from the side of Christ, wash me. Passion of Christ, strengthen me. O Good Jesus, hear me. Within your wounds hide me.”
As we read each line, the moments of Christ’s suffering are tied to moments of transformative comfort for us. We are reassured that in our brokenness; God has not abandoned us. We are not alone. Our human suffering becomes one with Christ. We find the place where we can lay down the woundedness and brokenness of our lives at the foot of the Cross and Christ freely receives it out of love.
What have I learned about the experience of prayer? I have learned to actually “experience prayer”. It is an encounter of profound love within my very being. In the sacredness of prayer and the intimacy of my soul, God is very close. He waits to hear my prayer, to surround me with comfort, my heart is filled with hope, and I am healed…and with every, so is our sweet Gracie.
Please continue to pray for Gracie, her brothers and her Mom and Dad.
(Here is the complete Anima Christi prayer. https://www.franciscanmedia.org/st-anthony-messenger/anima-christi-a-mystical-prayer/ )
Ave Crux, Spes Unica,
Dianne Barlas
Among the ways I like to pray and reflect on Scripture is to experience it through the perspectives of the various characters. On Palm Sunday, the Gospel reading was the Passion of Christ. This is read again today, on Good Friday. As you listen to the Gospel read aloud, I encourage you to experience it through the lens of one of the characters mentioned in the Gospel of John.
As I reflect on my own life, I am blessed to have many “Simons” to help me through life’s burdens. An encouraging word, a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, visitors by my hospital bed, friends who helped me with a difficult task, mentors who walked side by side with me, teachers who offered me encouraging words and helped me to learn and grow, prayer warriors who lifted me up during my darkest times, friends and family who loved me when I felt unlovable. Over the past 40 days of Lent, the daily reflections offered by my colleagues and members of the Holy Cross College community have provided me with “Simon” moments where, through sharing their deepest emotions, found hope. I have been uplifted and inspired by each of them and grateful to have them in my life.
As we prepare for Easter, I am reminded of the words that Pope Francis spoke, “Let us prepare for the Lord’s paschal mystery by becoming each of us, for one another, a Simon of Cyrene.” Today, as you reflect on the Lord’s Passion, I encourage you to imagine yourself as Simon of Cyrene. Although initially a stranger, Simon became a loyal friend of Jesus, who brought deep consolation to Jesus’ woundedness and aided him in his darkest moment. With the promise of resurrection, and as a friend of Jesus, I pray that you will live your lives with courage by being a Simon of Cyrene with others. In big and small ways, let us be there for each other. This is the essence of Christian discipleship. This is the essence of what it means to be a Holy Cross man or woman.
Ave Crux, Spes Unica! May the Lord bless each of you with new life and abundance in this Easter season. For soon, we will shout for joy, “He is risen.”
Dear Holy Cross Friends and Family,
Father Jacques Dujarie, the founder of the Brothers of St. Joseph, today known as the Brothers of Holy Cross, compelled the young men who were going into ravaged towns and villages in France following the French Revolution to do all the good they could while they were there. This is what we are all called to Holy Cross men and women. As someone double-Jesuit educated, the phrase “Men and Women for Others” is one that resonates around the world. When I think of the Brothers and the Congregation of Holy Cross, I see them (and us!) as Men and Women With Others, much the same way Simon of Cyrene was with Jesus, especially during his darkest trials. We refer to this as the principle of accompaniment, a hallmark of the Holy Cross mission and charism and a core virtue for those of us involved in this vocation at Holy Cross College.
Let’s reflect for a moment on the role of Simon of Cyrene. Imagine returning from the fields and from work and suddenly being called into helping Jesus carry his cross. Did he know that this was the Christ? Did he resist initially? Was he afraid? I would imagine he was afraid, but he only wanted to help this beaten and helpless man. His heart must have been moved with empathy. I also imagine that once he accepted the carrying of the cross, not only did he conform himself to this task, but he enjoyed helping Jesus carry the cross. He became Christ to Christ. I like to think that maybe this is you and me as well: at the outset we flee from the cross, but once accepted, we find the yoke is easy and the burden is light (Mt. 11: 30).
There are many characters in the Passion narrative—King Herod, Pontius Pilate, the Pharisees, Scribes, and Saducees, the crowd (this is the most difficult for me as they shout, “Crucify him!”), Veronica, the Executioners, Guards, and Centurions, Judas of Iscariot Mary Magdelene, Our Lady, the two thieves crucified with Jesus, St. John the Beloved, our Father in Heaven, and the subject of this reflection, Simon of Cyrene, who helped Jesus carry his cross. Many of these characters reveal the dark and timid side of our own humanity while others represent the courage, love, and compassion that we strive for as Christian disciples and Holy Cross men and women.
Dr. Marco Clark
President, Holy Cross College at Notre Dame