The Book of Exodus, and its themes of slavery, liberation, penance, worship, sacrifice, and conversion, offers a context for our Lenten exercises, and this week it provides our first reading at Mass. Exodus recounts the Passover: The Angel of Death passing over the homes marked by the Blood of the Lamb, and also the passing over of the Chosen People from slavery in Egypt through the waters of the Red Sea. This event is the great precursor to the Ultimate Passover, when the True Lamb of God, Christ our Lord, sacrifices His own Body and Blood to wash us clean, to pass through the waters of Baptism, leaving behind our slavery to sin, set free for an eternity of blessed life.
During the Beacons of Light process and the changes we face in our parish family, Exodus can provide a context to help us through these challenges. It isn’t so much that things were “bad” before Beacons, but rather that things were maybe not as good as they could be. Sure, we had Sunday Mass in all five churches, and we had enough money to pay the bills, but is that all God wants for us in our parish? Could our former way of doing things actually have been “too small”, perhaps holding us back from sources of life and grace God wants to give us, and fruits He wants to bear in us and in our parish? I think the answer is: yes. Even if we felt like things were so good before we began these changes, it’s clear that change is needed, and that God is leading us somewhere else; this is similar to Exodus. The Israelites had to move away from their former way of life, they had to cross into new territory, if God was going to do something marvelous among them. Living in Egypt, comfortable and safe and familiar as it may have been, was nonetheless preventing them from growing into the people God desired them to be, a people “of His own possession”, not possessed by anything or anyone else (cf. Dt 26:18). But it was hard, because change is hard. As we read today, initially, the Israelites were very displeased: “Why did you ever make us leave Egypt? Was it just to have us die here of thirst with our children and our livestock?” (Ex 17:3). Some of us may feel the same way: we want to go back to the way things were before 2021, before 2019, before any number of things in recent memory. We are afraid that we may not make it, we are thirsty for something of our former comforts, and we worry for our children and the livelihood of our parish. It may feel like we are in a desert, rocky and dry and hard. The Israelites were tempted to run back, away from their desert, away from the rocks, but God told them: Find the water I have prepared for you right where you are. So, Moses struck the rock, “and water flowed from it for the people to drink” (Ex 17:6). Are we tempted to run back, too? We need to believe that God has water for us here and now, prepared among even these most difficult and trying of circumstances. We still have the Mass, the Sacraments, our prayer, our neighbors; Jesus is with us in the Tabernacle day and night; our Blessed Mother is guiding us closer to her Son. There is so much water to quench our thirst even now, but we must start thirsting for the things that are ahead, rather than the things the Lord is asking us to leave behind. This is the stuff of conversion and transformation.
I know there are many concerns about what the future may hold or look like; I’d be lying if I said I don’t also have my concerns and worries from time to time. But do we believe that the Lord is in our midst or not (Ex 17:7)? Do we have faith that He is going to draw water from these challenges? Do we trust that there is fruit to come from this pruning? I believe He is calling us to drink more deeply of the water that can only be found in Him, living waters that are a spring welling up to eternal life. Do we have the faith to say to Jesus, with the Samaritan woman, “give me this water, so that I may not be thirsty” (Jn 4:15)? As hard as it may be to believe, our old ways are not the only places where we can find water, and the Lord can lead us to better waters if we let Him. We have to trust Him, and keep our eyes fixed on Him as He leads us there. I believe that fruit will come, and in many ways, I think it is already blossoming forth.
If you know someone who is longing for the things we’ve left behind, encourage them; if you know someone who is keeping their distance and is hurting, listen to them, and if the moment is right, invite them back to our family so we can keep moving forward together. The Lord has led us away from our former ways of doing things, and He is leading us towards new, and, I truly believe, better things. Right now, though, we are in the middle space, in the desert, and I don’t want anyone to get stuck in the desert, so please keep encouraging one another along the journey. Hope and encouragement are needed now more than ever; complaining and grumbling against God and one another will only make us desperate and tired. Our desert won’t have to be 40 years long if we all do our part to make this transition good and faithful. By God’s grace, we can get through this together, because He is still in our midst. May God bless you in the week ahead, and may Mother Mary lead you more deeply into the Sacred and Merciful Heart of Jesus. I remain,
Affectionately Yours in Christ,
Fr. Hess
