Naming Your Deaths

As we find the things that need to come to an end, we also find this beautiful process to go through, to grieve, and to receive new life.

Have you ever felt like life is a series of endings and new beginnings, each one intertwined with the next in a grand, mysterious cycle?

Ronald Rolheiser's book, "The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality," beautifully dives into this idea, unpacking what he calls the Paschal Mystery—a concept deeply rooted in the Easter narrative but resonant with the rhythms of our own lives.

Imagine it like this: there's a cycle, a journey we all embark on, from the depths of loss to the heights of resurrection, all guided by the invisible hand and sovereign will of God. It kicks off on Good Friday, where we confront the inevitability of endings and bid farewell to what once was. But just when it seems like all hope is lost,

Easter Sunday bursts forth, ushering in a radiant dawn of new beginnings and second chances.

But hold on, the journey doesn't end there. After the resurrection comes a period of adjustment—a sort of forty-day limbo where we grapple with the reality of our new circumstances. It's a time for grieving what's been lost and embracing what's to come. Eventually, we reach the Ascension, where we're called to loosen our grip on the past and open ourselves up to the transformative power of the Holy Spirit.

Now, here's where it gets personal. Rolheiser challenges us to confront our own endings and losses, to acknowledge the pain they bring, and to embrace the gift of new life that God offers us. It's a journey that demands honesty, vulnerability, and a willingness to let go of what no longer serves us.

As we have journyed through this Lenten season, we're reminded that this cycle isn't just a one-time event—it's an ongoing process woven into the fabric of our lives. Yet, in our fast-paced world, it's all too easy to rush through the messy middle stages—the moments of adjustment and grieving—and focus solely on the promise of new life.

But as Rolheiser reminds us, it's in these messy middle stages that true transformation occurs. It's where we're called to confront our losses head-on, to bury the dead, and to make space for what's to come.

For me, personally, I have often found myself at the end of a chapter, grappling with its grief and loss.

How about you? This Lent, I can make the choice to confront these endings head-on, to acknowledge the pain in my heart, and to release my grip on the past. It's a painful process, but one that I know is necessary for growth and renewal.

Perhaps you, too, find yourself holding on to old wounds and grievances, unable to let go of what's familiar. But as we journey through this cycle of death and resurrection, may we find the courage to bury the past and embrace the new life that awaits us. For in letting go, we make space for the transformative power of the Holy Spirit to work in our lives, bringing healing, renewal, and hope.

Father, clothe us in Christ Jesus.

In this new season strengthen us with power in our inner being. 

Holy Spirit, we receive and surrender to your power for every good work of faith.

May the name of Jesus be glorified in us.

 Jesus grant us courage and strength.

Protect us against the evil one in the days to come.

May your peace fill our minds to overflow.

May hope be our souls desire.

 Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine,

according to his power that is at work within us,

to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus

throughout all generations, for ever and ever!

Amen.

---

Sylvia Jeronimo

Spiritual Director/Formational Caregiver

The Way Home Ministries

(262) 955-1308