Pages Menu
RssFacebook
Categories Menu

Posted by on Apr 8, 2026

The Sun was Overcome

The Sun was Overcome

 

 

 

 

 

 

The sun was overcome at 3:00 in the afternoon

And the land convulsed

And the soldiers, the torturers also shook

And blood and water spilled from the divine cup

 

The sun of our lives went dark

And the darkness flowed everywhere

And even overtaking more than the earth

And invading even the human heart of hope.

 

The sun darkened for the suffering

And for the prisoners

And for the hungry

And those stumbling with drugs.

 

The sun of the lost darkened

And the wandering soul in search of love

And the boys and the girls orphaned by war

And the political prisoners, the disappeared.

 

The light in the darkness paled

And hope fails in a moment

And in a moment the Lord of power and might cries out

And He feels abandoned like the millions.

 

The very horizons of faith are dimmed

And in a moment, we ask why

And in a moment, we share the blindness of the world

And we are beyond consolation by the torture and death of the Lord.

 

Our vision becomes dark

And we feel blind

And we do not know why

And in a moment, we feel the darkness at midday.

 

The sun hides itself; the heavens darken; we see the Virgin Mother

And the women full of faith, full of courage

And St. John

And in our hearts and through hers a light, a flame

 

Beyond the darkness of the light, our Lady of Sorrows contemplates the mystery

And the sword foretold pierces her heart

And the Angel Gabriel comforts her who said yes

And the celestial choirs are anguished by the sobs of the one without sin.

 

Our souls are darkened by problems, anguish, and tragedy

And we take refuge in the darkness of midday in bitterness, violence, and rebellion

And we ask why

And the dark clouds ignore us.

 

The darkness becomes even deeper when the body is lowered from the cross

And in the lap of Our Mother

And she who hugged the little one celebrated by the heavenly choir

And she hugs him for the last time; the choirs of heaven stricken and mute only rain down tears.

 

The spirit of today’s disciples, our spirit, darkens

And Joseph of Arimathea gives his tomb to the Poor One

And Nicodemus weighed down with expensive ointments

And anoints the Master’s beautiful body shredded with wounds

 

The news darkens our hearts

And we see the young smashed by war

And we are shocked by the waves of refugees despised and feared

And we see drug addicts in the street, once babies nursing at the breast.

 

Rescued by first light, we will never suffer the darkness again

And we wait in hope for the dawn of the open tomb

And the women running with the unbelievable news

And Mary of Magdala asking the gardener finds her love

 

The darkness dissipates away

And in the light of the Paschal Candle

And in the light of the church awash in points of light

And never again the darkness of night at midday.

 

Our lives are never darkened again

And the shadow is powerless

And grief is changed into joy

And tears are dry and senseless.

 

The day awakens

Christ Risen is not obscured

Light from Light

True God from True God

Amen

 

Se Oscureció el Sol  -Translation by Dcn Randolfo Pozos

Notes on translation. Throughout my years of study of classical languages and Spanish, I have been taught and experienced the fact that one of the more difficult things to convey in another language is poetry. Google Translate and other AI tools can do a reasonable job of transliterating, but they have more trouble translating at times. “Se oscurece,” which is the scaffolding for this poem, has diverse meanings and allusions that can be translated many ways. Among others, it can mean to darken, to shadow, to block, to obscure, to hide and to lose from sight. Metaphorically, it came mean to be lost, to be depressed, to not perceive. I have used the impersonal form. It darkens, it is obscured, is neither passive nor active in our use of English while it is very common in Spanish and conveys the middle voice of classical Greek. Using “and” while correct is too literal. Ending with “d” closes off the rhythm as opposed to launching it. I have tried to convey these nuances in the translation, but the results are unsatisfying. – Dcn Randolfo Pozos

Read More

Posted by on Apr 3, 2026

The Sun was Overcome

Se Oscureció el Sol

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Se oscureció el sol a las tres de la tarde

Y conmovida tembló la tierra

Y temblaban los soldados los verdugos

Y salió del cáliz divino sangre y agua.

 

Se oscureció el sol de la vida

Y la oscuridad invadía todas partes

Y más invadía no solo la tierra

Y además invadía la esperanza del corazón humano.

 

Se oscureció el sol de los sufriendo

Y de los presos

Y de los hambrientos

Y de los tropezando por las drogas.

 

Se oscureció el sol de los perdidos

Y el alma errante buscando el amor

Y el niño y la niña huérfanos de la guerra

Y de los presos políticos, los desaparecidos.

 

Se oscureció la luz en las tinieblas

Y por momento se falle la esperanza

Y por momento grita el Señor de los ejércitos

Y como millones se siente abandonado.

 

Se oscurecieron los horizontes de la fe

Y por momento preguntamos por qué

Y por momento compartimos con el mundo la ceguedad

Y por el suplicio y la muerte del Señor nos quedamos desconsolados.

 

Se oscureció nuestra visión

Y sentimos ciegos

Y no sabemos por qué

Y por momento tememos la oscuridad al medio día.

 

Se oscureció el cielo y vemos la Virgen Madre

Y las mujeres fieles y valiosas

Y San Juan

Y en nuestros corazones por ella se brilla una luz, una llama.

 

Se oscureció no tanto la luz; La Virgen de los Dolores contempla los misterios

Y una espada precedida atravesando su corazón

Y el ángel Gabriel confortando la que dijo sí

Y se angustian los coros celestiales los llantos de la sin mancha.

 

Se oscurecen nuestros corazones en dificultades, angustias, tragedias

Y en la oscuridad de pleno día nos refugiamos en amargura, violencia, y rebelión

Y preguntamos por qué

Y las nubes oscuras nos ignoran.

 

Se oscurecen aún más en la bajada del cuerpo santo de la cruz

Y se pone en el seno de nuestra madre

Y ella que abrazaba al niño festejado por el coro celestial

Y lo abraza por última vez y el coro angélico, atónito, y mudo llueve lágrimas.

 

Se oscurece el ánimo de nosotros los discípulos de hoy

Y José de Arimatea su sepulcro le da al pobre

Y Nicodemo cargado de ungüentos costosos

Y unge el lindo cuerpo del maestro arrastrado de heridas.

 

Se oscurecen nuestros corazones las noticias

Y vemos los jóvenes atropellados por las guerras

Y vemos asustados las olas de refugiados despreciados y temidos

Y vemos los drogadictos en la calle una vez bebés mamando.

 

No se oscurecen nosotros jamás, aliviados por la aurora

Y esperamos la madrugada de la tumba abierta

Y las mujeres corriendo con las noticias increíbles

Y María de Magdala hace pregunta del jardinero y encuentra a su amado.

 

Se dispersa la oscuridad

Y en la luz del cirio

Y en la luz de la iglesia iluminada

Y jamás la noche oscura in pleno día.

 

Se oscurecen jamás nuestras vidas

Y la sombra ya inútil

Y llantos convertidos en gozo

Y lágrimas secas e inválidas.

 

El día se amanece.

No se oscurece Cristo Resucitado.

 

Luz de luz

Dios Verdadero de Dios Verdadero.

 

Amen.

Traducción al inglés

Read More

Posted by on Mar 30, 2024

How Do We Remember?

How Do We Remember?

Memory is a tricky thing. As we go through life, we experience so many things that it would be overwhelming if we were aware of all of them at every second of every day. Good things, hard things, sad things, short-time things, long-term things.

When things happen that are particularly memorable or important, we think we’ll never forget them. But we do forget details. And our memories reflect what we found most important about the events. Have you ever told a story to someone else about a past event and had a partner or friend who was there and an active participant in the event tell a very different story or correct your version? The older we get, the more frequently it happens, I think.

Part of what happens is that our minds process information based on our experiences and our past history. The explanatory systems of our culture and our society, the ways we explain why things happen and how it all came to be, also shape the way our experiences are processed. Over time, memories of the everyday sort begin to be just one of so many stored in the “card catalog” of our internal mental libraries – there for the finding again, but maybe a bit aged, torn, or tattered.

I started thinking about memories this year during the Holy Thursday liturgy as we heard the story of the first Passover and St. Paul’s description of how Eucharist was celebrated in the first Christian communities. These events took place thousands of years ago! Yet we still remember and celebrate them. More amazingly, we celebrate them in a way very close to what was originally described.

Moving through the rest of the week, we hear more of the story of God’s work in bringing about reconciliation between humanity and himself. The words of prophets calling the community to care for the least capable people among us. The praise of those who are faithful to their mission despite being mistreated, abused, and even killed. The retelling of the ancient stories of creation, the covenant with Abraham, the crossing of the Red Sea. Descriptions of the Last Supper, Jesus’ agonized prayer in the garden before his arrest, his trial, execution, and burial. The wonder of the Resurrection, first discovered by women from the community who were his followers. The reflections of that community on what happened in the life of Jesus and the tremendous surprise of the Resurrection. Nobody expected such an outcome! There were no precedents on which to draw for explanation.

How would it all be passed on to a wider group of people? It was too important to be kept a secret, though in the first weeks no one spoke publicly about it. That would have been too dangerous. With the coming of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, they were emboldened to speak publicly and so the world has come to know the wonders they witnessed.

The memories written down in the Gospels and Passion narratives are very similar, but they too were written by different people in different places and for different audiences. So, some of the details differ. The basics remain the same, however. The event happened and in more or less the same way described in each account.

Then how do these differ from other ancient stories such as the Odyssey, the Epic of Gilgamesh, the Iliad, and others? Why are they still remembered and actively celebrated in a way similar to the ancient ways?

Perhaps there are a few things that have made it possible. The first that comes to mind is the fact that these events happened in a community which had a history of remembering and reenacting ancient events. The Lord told the people that first Passover that the date on which it happened originally was to be the first day of the new year for them. It was to be celebrated the same way each year. And so it happened. Even to our day, at Passover, families and friends gather to celebrate this saving act of the Most High. Out of this celebration, the Christian community drew their remembrance, because Jesus gave the same kind of instructions to his friends when they gathered for the dinner. “Do this in remembrance of me.” This line is repeated each time we gather for Eucharist. Because the Resurrection took place on the first day of the week, Sunday on our calendar, it was seen as the beginning of a new reality in creation.

Another factor that has played into the continuation of this wonder is the fact that it involves more than just words. We pray actively – sitting, listening, standing, moving around the room, singing, eating, and drinking. We bring all of our senses into the experience, so we learn it deeply in our very being. The tastes, the smells, the sights and sounds – all are incorporated into our memories of the experience. Do we remember each specific time we have celebrated Eucharist? No. But we remember it as part of the rhythm of our lives and remember at least some details of the times that were out of the ordinary.

Perhaps one of the most important factors is that there is no time in Eternity. God’s time is totally separate from ours. God’s time is all Now, the present. From this comes the ancient Hebrew understanding that “Our ancestors crossed the Red Sea and our feet are wet.” When we celebrate Eucharist, the same thing happens. We are present with the apostles at that table with Jesus. We receive the same gift from him that was given to his closest friends. We are part of that community of “closest friends.”

And so, in the words of a lovely hymn, “We remember how you loved us to your death and still we celebrate for you are with us here. And we believe that we will see you, when you come in your glory, Lord. We remember, we celebrate, we believe.”

Happy Easter!

Readings for Holy Thursday – Evening Mass of the Lord’s Supper – Cycle B

Readings for Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion – Cycle B

Readings for Easter Vigil – Cycle B

Readings for Easter Sunday – Cycle B

Read More

Posted by on Apr 7, 2023

Why did Jesus have to Die?

Why did Jesus have to Die?

“Why did Jesus have to die?” “What kind of a God would require a blood sacrifice, of a human being no less, before forgiving the disobedience of the first humans?” “What kind of parent would demand the death of a son?” “Who is ultimately responsible for the death of innocent people?”

All of these questions and more have been raised throughout history, following the death of Jesus. Believers and unbelievers alike have wrestled with the problem of evil and the painful finality of death. Answers are complex and, many times, unhelpful. At best, they provide some logical foundation, based on human values and cultural expectations. At worst, they are downright illogical and unsatisfactory.

I have no good answers either, but I have some thoughts. One of the most important things I have learned in my lifetime is that without difficult times, I don’t appreciate the good times as well. I also have much less appreciation for the challenges faced by others.

If there had always been enough money to be sure of where the next groceries were going to come from, I would not appreciate what it is to go through year after year of food insecurity. If I had always been able to purchase health insurance, I would not be as ready and able to encourage and rejoice with folks who can now get health care and insurance because of the Affordable Care Act (aka, Obamacare) in the United States. I would also be less able to encourage those who have always been part of the middle class and now find their income has fallen so much that they are qualified for Medicaid (Medi-Cal in California). If I had never spent late nights with a crying baby, I would not be able to sympathize with and offer nonjudgmental help to another parent whose child just will not go to sleep!

So many times in my life, there have been difficult moments. Each time, as I come through them, I appreciate more deeply the pain and suffering that are part of life for others as well. I become, I hope, a more compassionate person.

I wonder to what extent Jesus also had to go through hard times as part of growing in compassion and determination to help make life better for others. He had an intense experience of God’s love at his baptism in the Jordan. He grew in wisdom and faith during his time of fasting in the desert. He shared the experience of God’s love with those he met during his public life. He would have been encouraged by its reception among so many ordinary people. He must have been surprised at times that the message he brought was doubted and opposed by so many who were leaders of the community.

In the end, he realized the danger he faced in continuing to proclaim the coming of the kingdom. After all, he lived in a conquered nation where those who led revolutions or opposed the power of Rome were routinely executed publicly. Yet he chose to remain faithful to the call he had received. His cousin had paid the ultimate price for his proclamation of the coming of the Messiah. Now Jesus was facing the same powers and penalties.

He chose freely to continue forward. He could have run away. He saw the soldiers coming out from Jerusalem, down through the valley and up the mountainside to the Garden where he and his friends were spending the night. He could have slipped away before they arrived.

But he didn’t run away. He chose to go and testify to what he had come to understand. When asked if he was the Messiah, he did not deny it. In fact, in St. John’s account, Jesus used the name of God, I AM, three times during his arrest in the garden. When Pilate tried to release him, his accusers retorted, “We have a law, and according to that law he ought to die, because he made himself the Son of God.” This frightened Pilate, but when push came to shove, Pilate did not resist their demands. Anyone who called himself a king or a god was too dangerous to keep around. (Jn 18:1-19:42)

Jesus went to his death freely. He chose fidelity to what he had come to know and understand about God, about humanity, and about his place in the grand scheme of things.

Did he know he would rise? I don’t know. In the Gospels, there are statements about rising, but they were usually phrased in terms of “on the third day,” which was a code phrase for “God will come to the rescue and make things right.” But literally, who knows when or how?

Jesus died. Of that there is no doubt. To make doubly sure, his heart was pierced by a soldier’s lance. He was buried in a borrowed tomb. His friends and family went home to mourn his passing. A guard was posted outside the tomb to be sure there would be no false claims of resurrection.

Jesus was a human being in all senses. If he had not gone through all the suffering he endured, would we who follow his teachings and believe what he came to proclaim about God’s love for all of us be deeply convinced of the truth of God’s unwavering love and forgiveness? I’m not sure we would be.

Jesus died not to appease a vengeful God. Jesus died not because of the “sins of Adam” that made humanity unfit for Heaven. Statements about his sacrifice as payment for Adam’s sins are found in the Scriptures and tradition, but those are from a specific cultural context in which animal sacrifice was a given. They may not be the way we would speak of the same reality today, though all of us are guilty of adding to the pain and suffering of those around us in big and little ways as we go through life.

Maybe Jesus died because he was so totally committed to what he had come to understand and experience of his relationship with the Father that there was no other option but to trust and go forward. In the process, he showed us too the way to move ahead through the sorrows and pain that come to each of us in our daily lives. He showed us that we grow in compassion through suffering and hard times. He showed us that the Father loves us through it all. And he is there with us as we go through it too. We just need to trust that he is there and open our hearts to receive his love and support.

There is no celebration of Eucharist on Good Friday. But we gather to remember the great love of Jesus and his willingness to go through all of the hardest things ever asked of humans: betrayal, unjust trial, condemnation, mocking, physical abuse, and death. He was there. He will be there always with those who suffer the same. And he’s even there for those of us who pass through less dramatic but deeply painful times.

We gather this day in prayer and silence to be with him in the mystery of timeless eternity. We continue in quiet through the day to come.

Peace be with you.

Readings for Good Friday of the Lord’s Passion

 

Read More

Posted by on Apr 15, 2022

Good Friday – Time to celebrate?

Good Friday – Time to celebrate?

Good Friday.

Sometimes it seems that the really hard things aren’t good at all. Why call this Good Friday?

The great mystery of life and love is that sometimes the hardest times are the most important. These are the times of growth, times of stretching. This is when we learn to depend totally on others to help us get through. When the others aren’t there for us, the Other who brought us forth into being from the great Dance of Love of the Trinity is there for us. This Other is not really “other” in the usual sense. This is the source of our deepest life and being. It’s in the deepest realms that we learn the truth of what matters. We learn compassion, patience, endurance. We understand the suffering of others in a new and deeper way. We realize that the easy answers of our childhood may not be the final answer. We grow in wisdom as we grow in age. With God’s help, we grow in grace too, that fundamental sharing of divine life.

Jesus didn’t know that he would rise. In this he was a human like any other one of us. But he was a man of great integrity, faithful to the God he called Abba (Dad), and willing to testify to what had been revealed to him about God’s love for us. He went to his death forgiving those who had condemned him, those who crucified him, those who mocked him, and the thief who was dying beside him. Mercifully, he did not have to suffer long. His Father claimed him quickly. His friends claimed his body and buried him, then returned home for the Sabbath rest.

We know the surprise that awaited them on Sunday morning. But for now, let’s take time to experience the great mystery of unknowing. The mystery of trust in a God we cannot see.  The mystery of life and death.

Happy Good Friday!

Readings for Good Friday

Image is of one side of the altar at St. Patrick Church in Spokane, WA – Artist: Harold Balazs

Read More

Posted by on Mar 26, 2016

A Few Minutes to Pray

A Few Minutes to Pray

Winter Sun on the Central Coast 2.1.16Holy Saturday can become one of the busiest days of the year, especially for those preparing for church services or hosting Easter dinner. Finding a moment to stop and pray is not easy. There are rehearsals for those playing a part at Easter Vigil or other Easter services. There are last minute Easter basket details to handle. The floors need sweeping. The furniture is dusty. The windows have splotches that testify to recent rains. Shirts to iron, shoes to shine, etc., etc., etc.

Yet Holy Saturday is really a time that is supposed to be holy: a time to stop, reflect on what we have just experienced with Christ and his early family and friends, and wonder how it all applies to our lives here and now. A time to step out of time and space and enter into (or remain within) the realm of the Sacred, the Holy, the Other.

We Christians are not always conscious of the reality that God and God’s presence/activity exist outside the confines of time and space. We mistakenly think that what we celebrate took place two thousand years ago and we simply remember in historical, or maybe collective, terms the events and the people to whom these things happened. In reality, for God everything is NOW. There is no past, present, or future. When we enter into the mysteries of the life, passion, death, and resurrection of Jesus, the Pascal Mystery, those mysteries are not history. They are happening in our lives as well. Our Jewish sisters and brothers will say, “Our ancesters walked through the Red Sea and our feet are wet.” They understand that the events they remember in story and ritual are truly real today as well. This reality is equally true for us.

Today we remember that day when all seemed lost for Jesus’ mother Mary, for his friends Peter, James, John and the other disciples, for Mary of Magdala and the other women who traveled with Jesus. Jesus had been publicly tortured to death as a traitor to the Empire, a political enemy of the state. His death was that reserved for the worst of criminals, those seen as fomenting revolution. It was meant as a warning to any who would attempt to change the status quo, the way things are/were. His family and friends recognized the warning and were crushed with sadness and fear, on top of the emptiness we all feel when someone we love has died. It was the Sabbath. They couldn’t even go to the tomb to care for his body properly. They simply had to wait and pray, try to make some sense of the past three years of their lives with him, and console each other as best they could.

We know the rest of the story — the events of the next morning changed history. God intervened, raising Jesus up on the third day, the day on which God came to the rescue of the faithful one. As a result, it’s easy for us to forget what this day, the day in-between, is about, easy to get busy rushing around to prepare to celebrate. They didn’t have a clue what was coming.

But we have entered into the mystery. We have celebratedPalm Sunday with cries of Hosanna and waving of palm branches. We rejoiced on Holy Thursday, celebrating the institution of the Eucharist. We have heard the passion narrative, prayed for all the peoples of the world, and venerated the cross on Good Friday. We are still in the midst of the mystery. It is not over yet. This is a time of quiet hope and awe in the face of loss and the unknown. It’s a time to experience our solidarity with those who suffer today because they are disciples of this Jesus, the crucified one. Time for quiet and prayer.

It’s a beautiful day here on California’s Central Coast. I’m going to leave the floors unswept, the furniture undusted, the weeds growing happily in all the flower beds, and go for a walk with my Lord alongside the ocean.

Holy Saturday blessings to all.

 

Read More