By the time you read this blog, millions of people will have already attended an Easter service on Sunday. Many parishioners will have purchased new clothes, and numerous churches will have spent money to make sure that their buildings and the worship experience are as attractive as possible. There will be plays, dramatizations, special guests, and special effects. In an overheard conversation, one pastor even called Easter Sunday, “Showtime”.

I thought long and hard about that statement. What exactly are churches offering on “Showtime” Easter Sunday? And why is that offering not compelling enough to encourage persons to come back before Easter of the next year? Is that an indication of their lack of religious conviction or an indictment of the relevance of the Church? Many churches are reporting that attendance is dropping and it is not beyond belief to wonder if eventually Easter will just become another Sunday.

I don’t think it has to be that way. Even in our age of smartphones, tablets, and virtual-almost-everything, I still believe that the community church is relevant and necessary. There are challenges that the Church must address. How does the Church really feel about marriage equality and why are so many Church marriages failing? What does the Church really think about issues like gun control, poverty, and equal rights? Has there ever really been a separation between Church and State and, if so, what are the boundaries? These are questions that need answers and not all of those answers are easy to obtain. And most of the people who found their way into Church doors on Easter cared more about the love they felt rather than the answers to those questions.

So maybe rather than Showtime, it is “time to show” the love of Jesus in a relevant way. It is “time to show” that church members are not perfect, just persistent. It is “time to show” that wearing the right attitude is more important than wearing the right clothes and that what you are driving is far less important than what is driving you. For the Church it is time to show that compassion, forgiveness, redemption, hope, and love are really the most impressive things that can ever be shown. So is it Showtime? Yes, every single Sunday; hopefully, the Church will make sure to show the right things!

by Kathleen Gerwin

Lent just might be my favorite season. That’s not something I advertise and certainly not something I lead with at cocktail parties. When most people hear the word “Lent,” it usually brings to mind images of Girl Scout cookies deferred and pizza every Friday for a month, not to mention oh-so-fun terms like sacrifice and self-deprivation.

This used to be my view of Lent—40 days of chocolate-less Facebook deprivation. For the past few years however, I have been picking a different Lenten commitment to practice over 40 days and it has caused me to fall in love with this beautiful, misunderstood season.

This Lent, I chose gratitude. When I set out to practice gratitude, I had no idea the riches I would discover. I knew that grateful people were happier, healthier, lived longer, and were just more enjoyable to be around. I was excited to focus on all of the riches in my life that I often miss because I’m “too busy” or unaware. What I was really interested in, however, was how this practice might help me to become more thankful for the things that I’m not naturally inclined to be grateful for, like that co-worker who just won’t stop talking while I am furiously working, or the fender bender on my way to  class . . . or even the relationship where my trust was betrayed.

As I have practiced gratitude over the last 30 days or so, I have not found that the interruptions, disappointments and hurts have ceased—if anything, I am even more aware of them. What I have found is that these moments where gratitude seems impossible have opened me up to the opportunity that the moment presents. American Buddhist nun, Pema Chodron writes beautifully on this topic. Rather than being originally sinful, Sr. Chodron sees people as originally wounded. Each one of us has a tender place of vulnerability or hurt that we go throughout life trying guard. Sometimes we’re successful at guarding the spot and we feel like life is good and everything is as it should be. Sometimes, however, we fail to defend our wound and stuff gets in—people annoy us or disappoint us or even fail us and we have to experience the pain of our wounding all over again.

It is at these times, however, that we are offered the opportunity to really heal  ourselves. When stuff “gets in” and our defenses break down, that is when we have the chance to become our authentic selves and connect with the fact that we are worthy and loved just as we are and there is no need to go through life with walls up. Suddenly, life becomes more spacious and gentle. The universe is a kinder, more joyful place to be. And that is certainly something to be grateful for.

On February 28, 2013, our Holy Father Pope Benedict XVI became the first pope in 600 years to retire as head of the Catholic Church.  As I reflected on what this meant for me as a Catholic, I realized what a great act of submission this might have been for our Pope Emeritus, and the significance of it occurring during the holy season of Lent.

In my youth, Lent was synonymous with personal deprivation. We were expected to give up something meaningful and to abstain from meat and poultry on Ash Wednesday and on Fridays. Any digression warranted a trip to confession. Although I still abstain from meat on the required days, my Lenten practices have transitioned from deprivation to thanksgiving.

Lent culminates with Easter, which celebrates the resurrection of Jesus Christ. It is significant because it brings meaning to our faith. St. Paul reminds us that if Christ had not been raised, our faith would be useless and we would still be in our sins. Therefore, I strive to make my Lenten journey less about what I give up and more about what I can do. It is about preparation, thanksgiving, and being engaged prayerfully and reflectively to celebrate Jesus Christ’s victory over sin and death.

Options for Lenten practices include community prayer, such as Stations of the Cross, daily Rosary recitations, and daily Mass, or personal prayer and daily devotions.  Another means of service is to contribute to the Catholic Relief Services Rice Bowl project, a simple yet meaningful way to fulfill St. James’ directive in his New Testament letter:

If a brother or sister has nothing to wear and has no food for the day, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, keep warm, and eat well,” but you do not give them the necessities of the body, what good is it?  So also faith of itself, if it does not have works, is dead. (James 2:15-17).

This is my personal perspective, and one that I feel honored to share. It is not intended to represent the views of the Pastoral Counseling program at Loyola University, Maryland, which is home to many faiths and Christian denominations.

As the journey towards Easter continues, I encourage everyone to be mindful of each other, and the blessings that we have individually and collectively received. I pray for our Pope Emeritus, that his decision was one of acceptance of God’s will. I especially pray that we acknowledge God’s favor in our lives with generous and prayerful acts of thanksgiving.

Beverly Sargent, a current Ph.D candidate, published two books about helping children use child-centered therapy to play through the grief of losing a parent. She was featured in Loyola Magazine’s December 2012 issue.

Read more here:

Loyola Magazine » Playing through Grief: Helping Children Heal.

More than twenty years of monastic life still influences my patterns of living and thinking. For instance, when I hear of some trouble or need, my first thought is to take it to God in prayer. Since beginning the Pastoral Counseling program at Loyola, I have been urged to think in more tangible ways such as getting involved in social justice issues, or making a difference by my voice, my hands, and my presence.

And so that evening of June 14, 2012, I found myself driving down Charles Avenue mixed in with the many cars and people joining the Sailabration events going on at that time. I was not heading for the Inner Harbor, or even Fort McHenry.  I was on my way to the Cathedral of the Incarnation for a talk called “Pray, Study, Act: the Dream.”

I had no clue about the Dream Act, who it affected or that it even existed. But an invitation to the event sparked my interest, and I felt the gentle nudging of Loyola’s message that we get involved in social justice issues pushing me to do something. So I set aside my summer studies (I was taking two summer courses at that time) and headed out to hear about this issue for myself.

I had no idea that a youngster brought to the states as an infant and whose family paid state taxes still had to pay out-of-state tuition at a local state college. I did not know that this law affected veterans as well. I did not know that 12 other states have already passed the Dream Act and made it law. I did not know that Maryland’s version of the Dream Act was the strictest of all versions, had passed the legislation and been put into law, only for a referendum that put the law on hold and place it on the ballet for a vote in the fall. Most of all, I did not know that children of immigrants who had not become citizens had the most difficult time going on to college because of the restrictions. They had an uphill battle to become self-supporting and independent.

The speakers at this event were varied, from Rev. Glenna Reed Huber of the Church of the Holy Nativity to the Very Rev. Hal Ley Hayek of the Cathedral. Father Joe Muth of St Matthew Catholic Church gave a slide presentation explaining the Dream Act and its implementation in 12 other states. Youth directly involved and hoping to go on to college gave testimony of their status and their difficulties, and asked us to help the Dream Act pass in the state of Maryland. They spoke of their identification with the United States as the only home they have ever known, of their desire to experience the American Dream.

As I was sitting there congratulating myself for getting involved in a social justice issue, I looked around the small room. There were only 83 individuals gathered in the basement of the Cathedral, of which 13 were presenters, at least half of the rest where sponsors of the event, and only a handful were interested spectators. Among this small crowd I found two of my classmates. Elation.  Here we were, three Pastoral Counseling students, gathered here not because of a classroom assignment, or to gain extra credit. We were here on a busy weekday evening because we cared.

The Pastoral Counseling program teaches its students the Hippocratic oath, to do no harm to those we serve. But Loyola takes us a step further: to get involved with issues of social justice. The workshop offered me and my classmates the opportunity to learn the truth about an issue of social justice. And we spent that time willingly so that we could understand those who are vulnerable to the law and in need of advocacy.

As we left the workshop, the three of us met up and began to chat. We discussed the issues addressed at the meeting, as well as our summer classes and our time left in the Pastoral Counseling program. We did this naturally, as if this was something we do all the time. For the Pastoral Counseling program has taught us our job is to listen to real individuals telling their story of hope, of fear, and of dependency, and to find concrete ways to address those issues.