Month: April 2025

Josefa Menéndez, Mystic of Mercy

(Acts 5:12-16; Rev.1:9-13, 17-19; Jn.20:19-31)

25 years ago, in April 2000, Pope St John Paul II canonised Faustina Kowalska and established the second Sunday of Easter as Divine Mercy Sunday. This is what we celebrate today.

St Faustina (1905-38) is the humble Polish nun who most people associate with Divine Mercy Sunday. Jesus appeared to her many times and gave her a vision of himself as the ‘King of Divine Mercy’ wearing white, with rays of white and red light shining from his heart.

Jesus told her that the world won’t find peace until it starts trusting in his mercy. ‘My Heart overflows with great mercy for souls, especially for poor sinners,’ he said. ‘If only they could understand that I am the best of Fathers to them and that it’s for them that the blood and water flowed from my heart…’ (Diary 367).

He also said, ‘The greater the sinner, the greater the right they have to my mercy… Whoever trusts in my mercy will not perish, for all his affairs are mine and his enemies will be shattered at the base of my footstool.’ (Diary 723)

Jesus’ messages have been published in St Faustina’s diary. However, she is not the only person Jesus spoke to about his Divine Mercy. He also appeared to Josefa Menéndez in France in the 1920s.

Josefa was born in Madrid, in 1890, the first of six children to devout Christian parents. She had her first Holy Communion when she was 11, and that’s when she decided to become a nun.

At 20, she tried to join a convent, but her mother refused to allow it. Josefa’s father had died in an accident and money was short. So, she worked as a seamstress until she was 30, and then she joined the Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus in Poitiers, France.

Sr Josefa was a simple nun who had little education, no formal theological training and never learned to speak French. However, she enjoyed working quietly, sewing, cleaning and looking after the sacristy.

Jesus was drawn to her humility and for nearly four years, until she died in 1923, he often appeared to her. He asked her to be an apostle of his goodness and mercy. ‘The world doesn’t know my mercy,’ Jesus said, ‘and I want you to help make it known.’

He taught Josefa to be humble, obedient and loving in every little thing she did.

‘Love doesn’t just consist in saying, ‘I love you, O my God!’ he said. ‘No, love acts because it loves, it does everything by loving. I want you to love in this way, in work as well as in rest, in prayer and consolation as well as in sorrow and humiliation, proving this love to me constantly by your works, for this is love.’

Jesus invited Sr Josefa into his mystical heart, and in return she offered Jesus her life to console his wounded heart and to save souls. He said to her, ‘See how my heart is consumed with love for souls! You too must burn with the desire for their salvation. I want you to go deep into my heart today and make reparation in union with it. Yes, we must repair!’

Commenting on his Passion, Jesus explained how he feels at every Eucharist and he asked her to help him carry his Cross, in reparation for the ingratitude of so many. 

‘All I want is the love of souls,’ he said, ‘but they respond to me with ingratitude. I want to fill them with my graces, but they pierce my heart. I call them, but they run from me.’

Sr Josefa agreed to link her suffering with that of Jesus, and she also offered to unite all her simple, loving actions with his heart.

Jesus asked her to surrender herself completely to his divine will: ‘I have no need of your strength,’ he said, ‘but of your abandonment.’

Every word Josefa recorded from Jesus is consistent with the messages Jesus gave St Faustina Kowalska and St Margaret Mary Alocoque (1647-90) about his sacred, loving heart. They also align with the essence of St Therese of Lisieux’s autobiography and the Gospel itself.

Pope Pius XII authorised the publication of Josefa’s book The Way of Divine Love, and in 1947, the process for her beatification began.

Today, on Divine Mercy Sunday, the message for us is simple but profound: Jesus wants the world to understand that he is the God of love, mercy and forgiveness, and he wants everyone to return to him.

‘Let them come to me!’ he says. ‘Let them throw themselves into my arms! Let them have no fear, for I am their Father.’ [i]

---

[i] Sr Josefa Menendez, The Way of Divine Love, Must Have Books, 2023.

Our Four Deaths

(Acts 10:34, 37-43; Col.3:1-4; Jn.20:1-9)

Christ is risen! Alleluia! Happy Easter!

Every year the Church’s greatest celebration is Jesus’ resurrection. But how do we know that Jesus really rose from the dead? There are many reasons, but here are three:

Firstly, it’s significant that all four Gospels say that women were the first to witness the empty tomb. In ancient times women weren’t allowed to witness anything. It was illegal. Had the resurrection been faked, women would never have been mentioned.

Secondly, it’s significant that there had been no forced entry into the tomb, and that Jesus’ linen wrappings were left lying on the floor. If Jesus’ body had been stolen, his wrappings would have gone, too.

Thirdly, and most importantly, what really points to Jesus’ resurrection is the change in the disciples’ behaviour. Previously, they had been grieving and frightened. That’s why they locked themselves inside the Upper Room.

But once they see Jesus return, their lives are utterly transformed. Nothing – not the threat of gaol, torture or even death – could stop them from spreading the good news.

This is how we can be sure that the Resurrection really happened. But what does it mean for us today?

Jesus’ resurrection is significant, because it’s the foundation of our Christian faith. It proves that Jesus is God and that everything he’s been saying is true. As St Paul says, ‘If Christ had not been raised, then our preaching has been in vain, and your faith is in vain’ (1Cor.15:14).

But we know that our faith is not in vain. Easter tells us that there is always hope, even in our worst moments, because if Jesus can survive the most terrible suffering, then we can too. He teaches us that any trials we might have are temporary and that God always works for the good of those who love him (Rom.8:18; 2Cor.4:17).

Indeed, Easter is the guarantee of our own resurrection. As Jesus says to Martha at Lazarus’ tomb: ‘I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me will live even though he dies’ (Jn.11:25-26).

Now this is really important. If you think about it, we all die many deaths during our lifetimes. We all suffer losses of some kind, as well as transformations and transitions where something in us dies. However, we too can have our own ‘mini-Easter’ where new life always follows.

The theologian Michael Pakaluk tells us that Christians typically die four deaths. [i]

The first is baptism. Baptism is a form of death because it represents the death of sin, the end of our former self, and our new birth into the life of Christ.

In a very personal way, our Baptism mirrors Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection.

Our second death occurs when we embrace our chosen vocation, either the married life or a single life devoted to God. In 1981, Pope St. John Paul II wrote that marriage ‘takes up again and makes specific the sanctifying grace of baptism.’ What he meant is that on our wedding day we must die to ourselves as single individuals, and be reborn as an interdependent couple. [ii] 

Our third death occurs when we have children. Every parent knows how devastating the birth of a first child can be to their way of life. For the sake of our children, we die to ourselves; we make great sacrifices for them. And while this means the end of one kind of life, it also means the beginning of a new life as a parent, with all the joys and heartaches that brings.

And finally, the fourth death occurs at the end of our mortal lives. For the faithful Christian, this is where we really can be confident of our own resurrection.

I recently chatted with a friend about this, and he said, ‘What? Only four deaths? What about all our other endings and beginnings?’

He was right; we do experience many other deaths. We leave our childhood behind; we lose friends; we change careers; our dreams die, and so do the people we love.

But that is never the end of the story. Thanks to Jesus Christ, we can all have many mini-Easters where we get to live again.

So, here’s the good news: Jesus Christ has conquered death, and now death is simply part of the rhythm of life, as new always follows the old in our journey towards eternal life.

Thanks to Jesus, darkness and death are now replaced by light and life.

---

[i] Michael Pakaluk, ‘The Four Deaths’, The Catholic Thing, March 30, 2022. https://www.thecatholicthing.org/2022/03/30/the-four-deaths/

[ii] St John Paul II, Familiaris Consortio, n.56. https://www.vatican.va/content/john-paul-ii/en/apost_exhortations/documents/hf_jp-ii_exh_19811122_familiaris-consortio.pdf

Silent Embrace

(Is.50:4-7; Phil.2:6-11; Lk.23:1-49)

(Thanks to Fr Don from The Word This Week, here is a podcast discussing today’s homily:)

Many of us struggle with silence. We are so used to noise that we think we cannot live without music, TV and other sounds, including our own voices.

Yet, in our hearts we know that’s wrong. Pope Benedict XVI once observed: ‘We are no longer able to hear God – there are too many different frequencies filling our ears.’ [i]

Silence is not emptiness; it’s an invitation to go deeper into our lives, and most especially into our relationship with God. This is a message we can take from the harrowing story of the Passion of Christ.

Jesus suffers the cruelest of abuse: betrayal, false accusations, insults, imprisonment, mockery, theft, beatings, scourging, crucifixion and even a stabbing. And how does he respond? He is silent. He doesn’t even complain.

What would you have done? Would you not have screamed, kicked, cursed, argued, struggled and done everything else you could to defend yourself? Jesus doesn’t even try. Why?

Some people think that silence in the face of adversity and injustice is weakness, but it’s much more complex than that.

All through his public ministry, Jesus encourages silence. He often invites his disciples to ‘come away’ with him to a quiet place (Mk.6:31; Mt.11:28). He knows how important it is for them to refresh and refocus by spending quiet time in prayer (Ps.46:10). And he knows that when we clothe ourselves in silence, like his Father, we are close to heaven.

In his own silence, Jesus isn’t being weak or even passive-aggressive. He is actually communing with his Father, drawing on the strength he needs to understand and endure his terrible ordeal (Jn.10:30).

He knows how healing and strengthening a silent embrace can be. 

How different we are from Jesus when we suffer. We writhe and squirm; we grumble and complain, and sometimes we agonise over those we think are responsible. And yet we don’t even consider resting quietly in God’s loving embrace.

For many of us, our most precious moments are when we’re being lovingly caressed by someone special – perhaps a parent, grandparent, friend or lover. A warm hug, wrapped in silence, can be a profound moment of safety and comfort that strengthens and heals.

This is what God offers us.

Sometimes our prayer might seem fruitless, as though nothing is happening. But prayer is not telling God what we want. Rather, it’s about accepting his loving embrace in deep faith and trust. And it’s accepting that whatever God does, or doesn’t do, for us is ultimately ‘for our good’ (Rom.8:28) because he truly loves us.

Jesus faces all his sufferings in silence, because he completely trusts his Father. He is always in close communion with his Father (Jn.8:28-29), and his first responsibility is to always do his Father’s will before anything else: ‘The Son can do nothing on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing’ (Jn.5:19).

Indeed, the Blessed Virgin Mary does the same thing. She suffers mightily when she sees Jesus carrying his Cross, and when she sees him suffer and die. She is in agony at the sight of her dead son’s body. And how does she respond? She is totally silent.

She, too, is in God’s silent embrace.

In his book In the School of the Holy Spirit, Jacques Philippe writes that the Spirit of God is a spirit of peace, and he speaks and acts in peace and gentleness, never in tumult and agitation. He can only penetrate our spiritual consciousness if we have within ourselves a calm zone of silence and peace. If our inner world is noisy and agitated, the gentle voice of the Holy Spirit will find it very difficult to be heard. [ii]

Our challenge is to find that calm zone deep in our hearts, and to stay there.

Silence is not emptiness.

St. Teresa of Calcutta understood this well. She often said, ‘Silence is the seed of prayer. Prayer is the seed of faith, and faith is the seed of service.’

Everything begins with silence.

The more we embrace silence – the more we rest in the loving arms of God – the closer we’ll get to him.

And the more we’ll live the life our hearts desire.

---

[i] http://www.vatican.va/content/benedict-xvi/en/homilies/2006/documents/hf_ben-xvi_hom_20060910_neue-messe-munich.html

[ii] Jacques Philippe, In the School of the Holy Spirit, Scepter Publishers Inc., Strongsville OH, 2007:37.

Immaculée’s Story

(Is.43:16-21; Phil.3:8-14; Jn.8:1-11)

(Thanks to Fr Don from The Word This Week, here is a podcast discussing today’s homily:)

In 1959, Joseph Gitera, a politician from Rwanda’s Hutu tribe, called for the elimination of the country’s Tutsi minority. [i]

This began a long process of dehumanisation that in 1981 led to the Blessed Virgin Mary appearing in the small town of Kibeho, warning that if the people didn’t change their ways, blood would flow.

Sadly, they didn’t change, and in 1994 almost a million Tutsis were massacred.

During this time, a woman named Immaculée Ilibagiza hid with seven others in her pastor’s tiny bathroom, measuring just 0.9m x 1.2m (3’ x 4’). In absolute silence and terror they hid for 91 days.

During this time, an interior voice kept telling Immaculée, ‘Open the door, end the torture! They’re going to kill you anyway.’ While another voice said: ‘Don’t open the door. Ask God to help! He can do anything.’

One day, she promised God: ‘I don’t know everything about you, but I will continue to seek you. I will never doubt your existence again.’

She asked the pastor for a Bible, and began reading it. She learnt about Jesus and God’s love, and even started praying the rosary. Every day she prayed 27 rosaries and 14 Divine Mercy chaplets, and as she prayed, she started to feel a deep sense of peace.

However, she couldn’t accept Jesus’ command to forgive, and in the Our Father she struggled to say, ‘as we forgive those who trespass against us,’ so she left these words out. But another voice said to her, ‘…Our Lord’s prayer is not man-made. Jesus himself said those words, and he can’t make mistakes.’

It was then that for the first time she understood the meaning of surrender, and she felt God telling her, ‘You don’t have to know how to do it all on your own. Give it to me.’ She agreed to say the full Our Father, but prayed that God would teach her how to forgive.

As the weeks passed, Immaculée came to realize that holding onto anger, hatred and bitterness would not bring healing or peace. But it was only when she read Jesus’ words, ‘Forgive them, Father, for they don’t know what they’re doing,’ that she truly understood what forgiveness means.

Jesus was telling her, ‘The people who are trying to kill you don’t get it – they don’t consider the consequences that will come to them… Being like them won’t change anything. Learn from me!’ she recalled.

She realized that people can always turn from hate to love with God’s grace – just as she had. ‘I knew then that I’d spend the rest of my life praying for people who are on the side of hate,’ she said.

After three months, the slaughter stopped and Immaculée emerged as a new woman. But she needed God’s grace to accept that so many had been killed, including her parents, brothers, cousins and friends.

Yet, through it all, God had never left her: “I felt that he was holding me tight and telling me: ‘The journey of your loved ones is over here on earth, but your journey is not over yet… What is in your power is how you chose to live your life, however long it may be.’”

Immaculée later met with other survivors and she even personally forgave those who had killed her family – she had grown up with some of them.

‘I know the pain and damage of unforgiveness,’ she says, ‘So I plead with you: dare to forgive. Hold on to God, pray the rosary, read the Bible, go to Mass… There is so much joy, so much freedom in forgiving. Dare to do it!’ [ii]

All through Scripture, God frees people from impossible situations, making things new again. He frees the Israelites from slavery in Egypt, he heals the blind, the lame and the deaf, and he brings Lazarus back to life.

And in today’s Gospel, Jesus gives new life to a desperate woman. Some Pharisees bring her to him, saying, ‘Teacher, this woman was caught in a terrible act of sin. The Law of Moses says she should be punished by stoning. What do you say?’

These men aren’t interested in her; they only want to trap Jesus. But Jesus knows what they’re up to. He says that whoever is without sin should throw the first stone.

They must have felt ashamed, because they all leave, one by one. In the end, Jesus forgives the woman and says, ‘Go, and from now on don’t sin anymore.’

She must have been overjoyed, because she, too, is given new life.

Today, so many people feel trapped by sadness, disappointment, sin and fear. They can’t move forward. But they forget that God works wonders with broken people.

God does amazing things when we open ourselves up to him.

---

[i] Kennedy Ndahiro, ‘In Rwanda, We Know All About Dehumanizing Language’, The Atlantic Magazine, April 2019.

[ii] Immaculee Ilibagiza, Left to Tell: Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust, Hay House, Carlsbad CA, 2006.