Author: AnishinabeSC

In our Eastern brothers’ and sisters’ liturgy, a popular exclamation reads: Christ is risen from the dead, trampling death by death! And to those in the tombs, giving life!

Part of St. Peter’s discourse on the fact of Jesus’ death and resurrection makes use of Psalm 16, the same one used in part by today’s Responsorial. The purpose of this is to give us confidence in Christ’s divine as well as human nature. We can therefore rest securely, given that there is no doubt about his human origin, and that Peter had been a witness of Christ’s tomb and of his resurrection. A belief that St. Peter will hold onto until his own public torture and execution, even though it offered him no ordinary or worldly comfort or benefit (that of fame, wealth or the like). Likewise, in his first letter he tells us that in trusting in these things about Christ, we are setting our hopes on God himself, not merely on something earthly.

Christ then makes these things, and no doubt other things as well, clear about himself. In drawing from the Scriptures, he gives encouragement to a couple of his dejected disciples who are leaving Jerusalem shortly after these events took place. They lacked the confidence we are, by the grace of God, called to have. Jesus himself demonstrates for us the principle of Biblical interpretation, of seeing the New Testament being hidden in the Old, and the Old fulfilled in the New.

In the course of this, if we are properly attentive as those two disciples were, a burning in our hearts may yet stir within us. Interestingly, Jesus was only made fully known to them in the Breaking of the Bread. The Holy Eucharist, the source and summit of our faith, is the supreme way the Lord wishes to encounter, have communion with, and make his home in us. The entire body of Scripture, though a means of encounter in itself, is meant to prepare us for something greater, and even this is but a foretaste of the good things that are yet to come. Amen! Alleluia!

– Aaron Neiva

On this Second Sunday of Easter, the Sunday of Divine Mercy, we are reminded that we are a people called to live in faith, hope, and trust in the Risen Lord.

In the first reading, we see the early Christian community gathered together—listening to the apostles’ teaching, sharing in fellowship, and breaking bread. This image speaks beautifully to who we are as a parish family. Like them, we come together in faith, supporting one another and growing together in our relationship with Christ.

The second reading invites us to reflect on the “new birth” we have received through the Resurrection of Jesus. This is not just a distant promise, but a living hope—one that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading. In our daily lives, with all their joys and challenges, this hope reminds us that God’s love remains constant and unshaken.

In the Gospel, we find the disciples gathered in fear, yet Jesus comes to them and says, “Peace be with you.” He shows them His wounds and breathes the Holy Spirit upon them. In this moment, fear is replaced with peace, and doubt begins to give way to faith.

Thomas, in his honesty, struggles to believe without seeing. Many of us can relate to that. Yet Jesus meets him in his doubt and gently leads him to faith. And then we hear those words meant for all of us: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe.”

As a parish community, we are among those blessed. We may not see with our eyes, but we believe with our hearts. We trust in His mercy, we receive His peace, and we are called to share that mercy with one another.

On this Divine Mercy Sunday, may we be reminded that no matter where we find ourselves—strong in faith or struggling with doubt—Jesus comes to us with love, patience, and peace. May we continue to grow together as a community rooted in faith, strengthened by hope, and united in His mercy.

Blessings to all.

Dolores Peltier-Corkey

At the Easter Vigil, Saturday evening after dark, we sing and listen to a song called the Easter Proclamation, also known as “Exsultet” based on the opening line: “Exult, let then exult, the hosts of heaven . . .”

This ancient, chanted poem tells us about a “blessed night, when things of heaven are wed to things of earth”. That blessed night was the night of our Lord’s resurrection; but it is also tonight, this night. It is the night “when Christ broke the prison bars of death and rose victorious from the underworld”. This happened because of God’s great love for us: “O love, O charity beyond all telling, to ransom a slave you gave away your Son!” It happened so that we might be redeemed, be reconciled with God. It is interesting that the song refers to the sin of Adam (who represents the first people or simply represents us) as a “happy fault”. Why? Because “it earned so great, so glorious a Redeemer!”

This sacred event, which we remember and participate in, can inspire and transform us tonight, today, and every day: “The sanctifying power of this night dispels wickedness, washes faults away, restores innocence to the fallen, and joy to mourners, drives out hatred, fosters concord . . .”

Happy, blessed Easter! Mina Paakwan!

Fr. Paul Robson, SJ

This week, Holy Week, together we journey with Jesus Christ, in a most endearing way: through his passion; his carrying of the cross; his crucifixion, death, and burial; the silence of his tomb; to the moment of his rising to eternal resurrection. These are the most foundational, the most mysterious, the most consequential acts of God-for-us, through which God in Jesus saves the whole human race from the seemingly overwhelming power of sin, seen from our perspective, and from its final consequence, eternal death. In the cross and resurrection of Jesus, sin and death are overcome, defeated, are no more.

We enter Holy Week with Jesus, who enters Jerusalem enrobed, enfleshed, as the prophetic Messiah: a man of weakness and compassion, a lover of the poor and the scorned, who knows all our joys, all our longings; he embraces our slavery to sin; a man of suffering, the Suffering Servant, who feels in his body the wounds inflicted and burdens imposed by the fading work of evil; a man of perfect humility, led by the Spirit, rejecting every command or suggestion that does not come from the mouth of God; he enters Jerusalem, enters the sacred time and place, riding on a donkey.

He comes not to be served, but to serve: he washes the feet of his disciples, he washes our feet, to heal our bodies, our minds, and our spirits, to follow in his footsteps, that we may walk in his ways, that we may imitate him in kindness, compassion, and healing love; he feeds his disciples with the bread and the wine, that is, his body and blood; he feeds and strengthens us with the Eucharist, in which Jesus, human and divine, preparing for his own journey from death to life, gives us the gift of himself, the gift of his own power that prevails over sin, and conquers death. He feeds us with the mystery of our new life to come.

He comes as God’s pure love: love that fallen humanity cannot fathom; love more powerful than any other power; love that purifies our souls of sin, as like the purest of water, love that melts away our sins, as like the hottest of fire; love that embraces all in the heart of God; love that saves us from sin and redeems risen humanity, for all eternity.

Jesus came to us, to die on the cross, and to rise, so to lead us to God, to the Garden, the kingdom of heaven, to freedom and life as children of God. Jesus comes to us today, to nourish our faith and hope in his love, God’s love for us, love that cannot die, love that is forever. Jesus will come again, to every heart who calls upon him, at every place and time that we need him, teaching us that sin and death have been conquered, and that love and life are ours, for eternity.

– Fr. Gerry McDougall, SJ

In Advent and Lent, the priest normally wears purple vestments, but may wear pink or rose on this particular Sunday. Pink or rose is a lighter colour of purple which might symbolize lightness, among other symbols or reasons for the pink on this Sunday.

The readings for this Sunday remind us that outward appearances are not always what they appear to be. The prophet Samuel has grown to hear the voice of God within and has been able to distinguish it from his own, as he learns not to look at the superficial. St Paul tells us that we need to expose the shameful things people do in the darkness or in secret and bring them to light, reminding us to bring our own secrets to light. In the gospel, Jesus opens the eyes of a man who was born blind, and both were reprimanded by the officials, the religious leaders of that day, who only saw what was on the surface because this man could now see. They judged Jesus and the healed man as unworthy, as sinners.

As we continue our Lenten journey, let us challenge ourselves to bring light into the deeper crevices of our hearts. What secrets do we carry that bring us down, etc? Perhaps this Lent can be a time to bring all our hidden dark secrets to God who is light, by going to confession or talking to a trusted person who can help work through these issues. It is the secrets we carry that make us unwell and unhealthy. Lent is a time for healing and letting go, when the darkness in our lives is brought to light before God.   

Easter and the resurrection of Jesus is a time of great light. The secret of the unseen reality of Jesus as Son of God came to light, and his identity was revealed. Jesus died and rose again, ascended into what we call heaven, which for Anishnabek is a spiritual realm where we all belong and will one day return. Our whole life is a Lenten journey and we highlight this during the forty days before Easter, almost like re-enacting the forty days of Jesus’ fast, because as Christians we continue the life of Jesus in this realm of life. We too await our resurrection and ascension with Jesus in our own time.

If the priest is wearing pink, a lighter color of purple, be reminded that Lent is a time of walking into the light.

– Sr. Terry Beaudry

Paul Robson, SJ

Every year, on the first Sunday of Lent, we hear a Gospel reading about the Temptation of the Lord; and on the second Sunday of Lent we always hear about the Transfiguration. On the third Sunday, things are different from year to year; and, while those readings for the first two Sundays are good ones, of course, and are there for a reason, I’m particularly looking forward to the Gospel readings for the third, fourth, and fifth Sundays of Lent this year.

On the third Sunday of Lent this year, we will hear the story from John’s Gospel about the Samaritan woman; and on the following two Sundays, also from the Gospel of John, we’ll read and hear about the man born blind and then the raising of Lazarus. These are readings for Liturgical Year A, which we are in right now; but they can also be used in Years B and C, especially when there are catechumens (candidates for baptism).

By long tradition, baptisms of adults usually take place at the Easter Vigil, with preparations during the season of Lent. These people are not only baptised but receive the sacraments of Confirmation and the Eucharist as well. Easter can also be a good time for those who are already baptised to be received more fully into communion / the community through the other sacraments of initiation.

The three Gospel readings mentioned above, from John’s Gospel, fit with Christian initiation and preparation for the sacraments. They contain themes related to baptism, and they have also been called “three great gospels of the journey in faith”. Perhaps we can consider these themes as we journey through Lent this year; and let us pray that the grace of our own baptism might be renewed in us; and let us pray for catechumens and candidates who are preparing for the sacraments at Easter this year.

Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday, Carnival holds a towering contradiction. All this celebration and joy, this riotous spree just before Lent, is in preparation for the great fast. We let loose on Tuesday to be ready for Ash Wednesday. The party ends with Christians drawing a cross on each others’ foreheads and whispering, “Remember that you are dust and unto dust you shall return.”

If someone invited you to a party and at the bottom of the invitation wrote, “At the end, we will come together to remember our own, inevitable deaths,” would you go?

As I write, carnival is in full swing in some of the most Catholic parts of the globe – Brazil, Venice, New Orleans, Macao. Our celebrations in Canada are more modest. A stack of pancakes and a little maple syrup hardly compare with dancing through the streets of Rio de Janeiro or jazz bands parading down Bourbon Street in New Orleans.

I am also, as I write, a guest on Unceded Wiikwemkoong Territory – a stranger in your midst. I am here researching a book about an elder who has served this community with generosity her whole life.

Perhaps we are all guests. As guests, we have been welcomed into this life by good people – our parents, friends, teachers – to share in the joy of being here. As guests, we can see Ash Wednesday in a different light. It’s not about celebrating our death. We rejoice that we have been alive.

In the Psalm for Ash Wednesday we strike a deal with God:

Give me back the joy of your salvation, and a willing spirit sustain in me.

O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.

That is, if God is God to us, we promise to be joyful in response. Of course, God is always God. The deal is done. Our Fat Tuesday celebration is more than justified. We must be joyful guests in this world, where we have been welcomed by a generous God.

– Michael Swan

(Growing in Faith, Hope and Love by the LIGHT)

Today’s readings have the word “Light” in them. As we sit and listen with our heart, hear and take the word Light into your being. We will hear in the Gospel Acclamation, John 8:12: “I am the light of the World. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life.” Who would not want this?

The Light dispels the darkness. Recall the times when our power goes off and we light our candles or lanterns, we feel immediate comfort. God is our comfort. God walks with us 24/7.

We believe as the people believed in Jesus’ time. When Jesus walked among them there were many miracles. Just this past week we heard of the woman who suffered with haemorrhage for many years, she exhausted her money as she sought out many doctors. When Jesus was walking with the crowd all around him, she inched her way to him and thought: If I just touch his cloak, I will be made well. Such faith she had, immediately the haemorrhage left her.

Those who walk in faith have seen a great light – we have heard this many times this year. We know Jesus and we are growing in faith, hope and love. Some of us can be like St. Kateri and say “Jesus, I love you”. We believe.

Since we know Jesus, we too carry that light in us, we become secure with God. Our hearts become open, more loving, and less judgemental, and we offer prayers freely.

We recall our loved ones who have since passed, how they walked with this light. How their deeds shone, as they put their light out there and did not hide it under a bushel basket. We felt God’s comfort in them, trusting in God for everything.

Allow God’s light to shine in you, and spread hope, love and joy. Brighten someone’s day.

Margaret Tish Manitowabi

    At the core of the Gospel of St. Matthew are eight beatitudes. Although Jesus revealed their content only to a small group of his disciples, he wants everyone to learn them (teaching from the top of a mountain indicates that). At first glance, some of the beatitudes might not be clear (Who are the poor in spirit?) or might be hard to accept (Why are those who mourn blessed?). It might be helpful to find possible clarifications for those questions in biblical commentaries.

    Whereas the ten commandments define areas of sinfulness and can be kept by being passive (the list of don’t’s), the living of Jesus’ manifesto demands a lot of spiritual formation, since it contradicts the prevailing insistence on becoming powerful and rich. The second reading reiterates that point: “God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong”.

   We should frequently examine how we live the beatitudes. We might focus on just one of them. For example, we might praise the peacemakers, and ask ourselves whether we have done enough to foster peace, on many levels: internal peace, peace in our families, peace in our local communities, and peace among nations. Let us thank God for all those around us whose goodness inspires us to follow Jesus more closely.

Fr. Toni Baranowski, SJ

The passage from Isaiah referring to Zebulun and Naphtali relates to a northern region of the holy land which was among the areas lost to Israel when they started getting overcome and exiled by foreign powers. It came to represent a place of loss and failure, of mixed peoples and practices that were abhorrent under a strict understanding of Mosaic Law. But under the prophet’s inspiration, and in its fulfillment in the Gospel, that region becomes like the Cross itself, a place of contrasts and paradoxes. It is like the Christian life and the hope that it provides for all.

What had been a place of darkness and death, has now become a place of light and life. What had once been limited to a few has now been opened and intended for all. Christ teaches elsewhere, “for my Father makes the sun to shine and the rains to fall on the righteous and the evil alike.” Hence his repeated calls to all to repentance: a change of heart and mind – to “do works worthy of repentance”, so that it’s not all just interior or, conversely, not all just for show.

We’re invited to follow him, who is the great king, the new and everlasting Temple, the fulfillment of all the holy promises of old and of any good we could want or hope for. But it is difficult, if not impossible, for us to respond, as Paul alludes to. The call, and the rewards that come with it, do not bypass the Cross but pass through it. It is this strange and horrid reality that becomes the source and tool of God’s grace, that makes us who were many, separated, in darkness and death, into a wonderful and fruitful unity of plurality that dwells in the light and is a source of life.

The Cross is where we may obtain that grace to respond immediately to this call, as is expected, and is so powerfully demonstrated for us by Simon, Andrew, James and John; and prophets of old like Elisha, or those venerated by tradition like the “good thief” beside Christ (St. Dismas), or the Roman soldier who was at the foot of the Cross (St. Longinus). “The kingdom of heaven has come near!”

– Aaron Neiva