My mother’s grandfather, Antonio Monteverde, arrived in Memphis (where he heard he had relatives) in the late 1850’s, just in time to serve in the Confederate Army. After the war, he started a grocery store in Memphis and prospered. In the 1870’s he built a large two-story home on a fashionable block at the edge of the city. A more fashionable and prominent family living on the same block was the Collins Family. The Collinses owned lots of property in and around Memphis, but they were Loyalists. They did not support the American Revolution or recognize the United States Government. They still considered themselves subjects of the British Crown. Consequently, they refused to pay taxes to any entity other than the King of England. By the 1920’s all of their property lay within the city limits and was worth a fortune. However, because they steadfastly refused to pay property taxes, the land was taken from them. The last surviving members of the family (whom I remember) lived in poverty in the decaying family mansion, which had been turned into a rooming house. What happened to the Collins Family is an extreme example of what can happen to all of us if we hold on to a dream, a plan, a belief, or a self-perception for too long. What was a legitimate political choice in 1776 (about a third of the American colonists backed the British) was an absurdity a hundred and fifty years later.

We are now coming to the end of the Lenten-Easter Season, which stretches from Ash Wednesday to Pentecost and occupies about a hundred days on the church calendar. Within that time period is a whole series of feasts and observances that we call the Paschal Mystery: the suffering, death, burial, resurrection, ascension of Jesus, and the descent of the Holy Spirit on Pentecost (which is next Sunday). During that time the followers of Jesus had to let go of Jesus’ physical presence so that they could receive the Holy Spirit, the Spirit that would energize them to bring God’s Good News to the end of the earth.

In The Holy Longing, Fr. Ronald Rolheiser describes how these liturgical observances during the Lent-Easter season serve as a model for us as we deal with the “mini-deaths” that occur over the course of our life. Something dies (Good Friday); we grieve its loss (Holy Saturday); something new begins to emerge (Easter); we let go of the old (Ascension); we receive a new spirit (Pentecost). The most obvious example of this is aging. It is great to be twenty or thirty, but it can also be great to be sixty or seventy, provided we are able to let go of and grieve the loss of our youth We let it go, so that we can receive a new spirit more appropriate to our age, one seasoned by life. If we try to appear 25 when we are 75, we simply appear foolish.  Relationships also go through this cycle. Sometimes newlyweds will bring one another lots of gifts. Then that behavior stops. Neighbors laugh and say, “Well, the honeymoon is over for them two.” In fact, at some point the honeymoon should be over for them two. As our relationship deepens and our intimacy grows, we learn how to provide what we really need from one another, which is often not something material.  This is also true of the Catholic Church. Those of us who remember the 1950’s and early 1960’s remember the solid institutional structure and the massive work force of priests, brothers and sisters who kept our institutions running. There is much that was wonderful about the past, but the past is simply not going to come back. Now we need a new missionary spirit. Now we need a spirit of synodality, where we are all listening together for the call of the Spirit.

Fr. Rolheiser tells the story of a man from Northern Alberta, where he himself was born.  As a teenager this guy was the greatest hockey player the town had ever seen, and, he dreamed of playing in the National Hockey League. He attracted enough attention that several pro scouts came to see him play. He did not have a good game. He tried too hard. He attempted to do too much. He made some stupid mistakes. The scouts never came back. He was not able to fulfill his dream of playing professional hockey Twenty-five years later he is married with two daughters, manager of a grocery in his home town, balding and a bit overweight. For all those years, he kept reliving that one night: If only he had played better, his life would have been so different. Finally, at the urging of his wife, he went on a retreat, where he was invited to reflect on his blessings. It was at that point that he realized how blessed he was and what a wonderful life he was leading He had a loving wife and two wonderful daughters. He ran a successful business and was well respected in town. Playing in the NHL was a great dream to have; but how foolish he had been not to have let go of that dream a long time ago and enjoy the blessings that God has given him.

Before the Easter season ends, do we need to mourn a loss and let it go, so that we can be open to a new Spirit?

                                                                              Fr. Joe