
Hosted by Joseph Pich · EN
Short Sunday homilies. Read by Peter James-Smith

Easter Sunday Mary Magdalene went to the tomb early on Sunday morning and found it empty. She was the first one to discover the empty tomb. It is very important for us the empty tomb. It shows that Jesus rose from the dead. It is empty because Jesus overcame death. It is an icon of the resurrection. Mary ran back and told Peter and John about the tomb. Both ran to the tomb to check it out. Saint John arrived first; he was younger and ran faster. Saint Jerome says that celibacy gives us wings. But he did not go in, out of deference for Peter. Peter was already regarded as the leader of the apostles. The Gospel says that John “saw and believed.” What did he see? It is a traditional question. He saw the linen on the ground. John knew Jesus so well that he realised Jesus had risen. He was there on Friday night when they laid him in the tomb. And looking at how things were now around the tomb, he could figure out that Jesus walked away by himself. You can go to a room in your house and say: “I know who’s been here. I know what has happened.” The dirty dishes are in the sink, her clothes are all over the room, he’s been in the pantry because the chocolate has disappeared. The Jews accused the apostles of stealing Jesus’ body. The Gospel says that the linen clothes were “lying there.” This expression in the Greek version seems to indicate that the clothes were flattened, as if they were emptied when the body of Jesus rose, as if he had come out of the clothes and bandages without their being unrolled. One can understand how this would amaze a witness, how unforgettable the scene would be. If you steal a body, you take it with its clothes; you don’t leave the linen behind. The napkin which had been wrapped around his head was “rolled up in a place by itself.” The napkin was not on top of the clothes, but placed on one side. It was still rolled up but, unlike the clothes, it still had a certain volume, like a container or a cocoon, possibly due to the stiffness given it by the ointments. Jesus’ body must have risen in a heavenly manner, that is, in a way which transcended the laws of nature. It was not only a matter of the body being reanimated as happened, for example, in the case of Lazarus, who had to be unbound before he could walk. Jesus rose from his death and left the linen there, untouched, sliding out of them. This remind us of the Holy Shroud, the famous relic in Turin. It is supposed to be the linen Peter and John found on the floor of the empty tomb. It has always attracted veneration. John Paul II said that “the Shroud is a mirror of the Gospel.” Benedict XVI had a lot of devotion to Holy Saturday because he was baptised on this day. He went to see the Holy Shroud and said: “this sacred Cloth can nourish and foster faith and reinvigorate Christian devotion because it spurs us to go to the Face of Christ, to the Body of the Crucified and Risen Christ, to contemplate the Paschal Mystery, the heart of the Christian message.” People go to see the shroud to contemplate Jesus’ face. This is our deepest human desire: to see God, to contemplate the face of Jesus, to be eternally happy through the vision of the divine glory, although millions of people are unaware of this aspiration. Happy Easter to you all. josephpich@gmail.com

Good Friday After the homily we are going to bring the crucifix veiled, Jesus crucified hiding behind a purple cloth. Purple used to be a royal colour, because it was the most expensive colorant to produce. Herod covered Jesus with a purple robe, to mock him. This is why we use this colour. We cover the crucifix because we don’t know if he is still alive; we don’t want to see him dying for us. The unveiling signifies the death of Jesus. Before it was hidden; now we know. We are going to unveil him slowly, each limb with music, to remember his wounds. We are going to sing “Behold, behold, the wood of the cross.” Slowly, for us to make sure we see him, we look at him, we contemplate him. Slowly to see each one of his five wounds engraved in his flesh. I recommend you to look into his eyes. We are normally afraid of looking at him. Why? Because this is what we have done to him. Jesus, with his body, is telling us: this is me. We need to face Jesus, Jesus as a man. Can you hold his sight? Can you look at him straight? Then we are going to venerate him. One by one, through a long queue, with time to spare. We need time to repent, to atone for our sins. We are quick to sin, but we are slow to say sorry. Contrition normally drags its feet. We are not going to use three crucifixes to go faster; otherwise, it would look like Calvary, with the two thieves on both sides of Jesus. I wouldn’t like to kiss the bad thief. We are going to kiss him, to soften his suffering, to try to make up for our sins. Sometimes children don’t want to kiss him; they are rightly afraid because they can see beyond us. Can we kiss him after inflicting him so much suffering, so much pain? It looks a bit like Judas’ kiss. We need to cry in front of him, a cry of repentance. The crucifix shows us his five wounds, wide open in front of us. We can find refuge in them. Saints have a lot of devotion to Jesus’ wounds. They remind us of our own scars, those wounds that haven’t been healed, that are part of our brokenness. We complain about them, but we don’t allow Jesus to heal them. Jesus is proud of his wounds; he shows them as medals, a proof of what he has gone through. In the army, when you get wounded, they decorate you with a medal. Our scars show that we have fought, and that we have been wounded. We should be proud of them; they are like medals. If we look at them as proof of what we have suffered, we can begin to heal. Instead of complaining about them, we can begin to understand why God allowed those things to happen, see them as medals and give thanks for them. When Jesus’ body was taken down from the cross, it was placed in the arms of our mother. His blood stained her clothes, but she didn’t care, because she wanted to hold him for the last time, his body still warm. She wanted that moment to last for ever, and kiss him for the last time, remembering when she had him in her arms when he was a baby, crying for her milk. josephpich@gmail.com

Holy Thursday Today is an important day for the Church. We priests celebrate two Masses. In the morning all priests of the Diocese go to the Cathedral to concelebrate with the bishop what we call the Chrism Mass. Two things happen during this Mass. First we priests renew our commitments, to place Jesus first in our lives, to obey our bishop, and to look after the People of God. Secondly during this Mass the bishop consecrates the three oils we use for Baptism, Confirmation, Holy Orders and Anointing of the sick. It is called the Chrism Mass because Chrism is the name of one of the holy oils. At the end of the Mass we collect our oils to keep them in the parish. Every year we burn the old ones and we replace them with the new oils. It is like what happens to us during these days of Holy Week: we die to ourselves and we rise again with Christ. In the evening we have the Mass of Holy Thursday, the beginning of the Easter Triduum, where we commemorate three things that happened at the Last Supper: the washing of the feet, the institution of the Eucharist and the institution of the priesthood. The Eucharist is the important one. Jesus had to go to heaven, but he wanted to stay with us, because he loves us and we need him. He could do it because he is God. Therefore he left us this sacrament, for the priest to be able to consecrate the bread and the wine, for us to be nourished by his body and blood, and for Jesus to be able to remain with us in the tabernacle. If all the sacraments are important, this one is the most important one; in the others we receive grace from Jesus, in the Mass we receive Jesus himself. In the washing of the feet we remember Jesus washing his apostles feet. We normally wash twelve men’s feet, easier for us to identify them with the twelve apostles. But what we truly remember is how Jesus lowered himself to the form of a servant to wash our feet. The washing of the feet was reserved to slaves. God is coming down to us to the point of performing a menial task. Our feet need plenty of washing, because when we walk we get dirty. Peter said to Jesus when he came to wash him: Master, wash my hands and head as well. We too are like Saint Peter: we need a thorough washing. Jesus even washed Judas’ feet. He is ready to wash any sinners’ feet, ours too. The last thing we commemorate today is the beginning of the priesthood. Jesus established priests for his Church to renew the sacrifice of Calvary throughout the centuries. The main reason for our priesthood is the Mass. We also need priests for the other sacraments, specially Confession, to become better, holier and closer to Jesus. Today is a special day when we pray for priests, specially the ones in our own parish. The more we pray for our priests, the holier they become. It is a good selfish prayer. We get the priests we deserve. When we complain about our priests, we should blame ourselves: we don’t pray enough for them. At the end of the Mass we reserve the Blessed Sacrament on the altar of repose. We keep enough hosts to give Communion on Good Friday because it is a day when we won’t have Mass, because Jesus is dead. The tradition is to spend a bit of time in front of the Blessed Sacrament. We keep Jesus company on this night, when he was alone in the garden of Gethsemane.josephpich@gmail.com

Palm Sunday Why did Jesus enter in Jerusalem on a donkey? He could have come on a horse or on a camel, more elegant animals, sitting higher to be able to be seen and have a better view. But he wanted to fulfill the Scriptures. They said that the Messiah had to come riding on a donkey. Why did the Scriptures prophesied on a donkey and not another animal? Because the donkey is a humble, docile and hardworking beast, more suitable as an example for us, unlike a horse who prefers showing off and pretending. They say a donkey is a symbol of peace, humility and the simple life. A horse is a symbol of war, pride and luxury. One of the Psalms says that we are like a donkey before God. Jesus has decided to ride on us. We are just a donkey. Many times we think that we are a horse and we become silly, proud and rebellious. We cannot forget that even though we are carrying Jesus, we are just a donkey. When we pretend that we are a horse, the ride becomes bumpy, and Jesus finds it difficult to stay on top. Don’t be a stubborn, grumpy old donkey, only thinking how to find revenge with a kick. Be a young one, with long ears ready for the Master’s command, a quick step ready to work in his service. The Lord wants to ride us, to reach heaven together. The best way for us to enter into heaven is being docile to his call. Eventually you allow him to ride on you and you experience the shouts of the multitude and the cries of joy to the prophet who is coming to the holy city. People lay their garments for you to walk softly. You enjoy treading on people’s clothes. You feel important, thinking that people are welcoming you. You look around, acknowledging people’s praises and almost crash against a pole in the middle of the road. A simple gesture from Jesus makes your head bow low and fix your eyes on the way. No more frivolous thoughts or wandering looks. All around you is not for you; just for Jesus. Jesus is a good rider. He lets you ride at your pace, he doesn’t kick with his legs. He brings peace with himself. His yoke is easy and his burden light. But you need to cooperate. All he wants from you is to follow his path. It looks easy but it is not. Common experience tells us that it is one of the most difficult things. It is all right when both our path and his path coincide. But when his path differs from ours, when begins to climb up hill, when the path gets bumpy and rough, we prefer to go down hill. When are we going to be convinced that his way is the best way? When Jesus sees Jerusalem he begins to cry. You don’t know what to do. You never have seen him crying. He is weeping because of what is going to happen to the holy city, its future destruction at the hands of the Romans. It is amazing, Jesus just sad for a heap of stones. He is like us; we humans worry about things and gadgets. Jesus is a man and has good memories of the temple. And all because it didn’t follow the paths of the Lord. You want to apply the lesson to your own life. You don’t want Jesus to weep for you and for your children.josephpich@gmail.com

The Annunciation In the fullness of time, when everything was ready, God sent the Angel Gabriel to Nazareth, to a young beautiful girl, to ask her a question. If we could choose an important moment of history to be present, this should be one of those. We know this scene from Mary herself. Scholars of Sacred Scripture say that the words of the Gospel came from Our Lady’s mouth, because these words have Aramaic roots, and Saint Luke wrote the Gospel in Greek. It is a divine dialogue between Our Lady and the Archangel Gabriel, not easy to understand from our humanity. To begin to comprehend what happened there, we need to become smaller, a bit more pure and humble. It is important to realise who the two protagonists were: a human being and an angelic spirit. A girl named Mary, around 14 or 15 years old, extremely beautiful, and even though she looks very young, she shows an unusual maturity. The other one is an Archangel named Gabriel, one of the three we know from Scripture. His name means Fortitudo Dei, Strength of God. He is involved with the events of the Incarnation, God becoming flesh. He appeared as a messenger from God to Daniel, Zechariah and our Mother. To differentiate him from the other two Archangels, we represent him carrying a lily, a symbol of purity and fertility. The town where this event took place is Nazareth, a little village in the middle of nowhere, 150 kilometres north of Jerusalem, with 50 houses around a spring. It wasn’t a famous place to live. Nathanael asked Jesus, when he found out where he came from: “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” There was a saying at that time: if God punishes you, he will give you a wife from Nazareth. The Oriental tradition places the Annunciation near thevillage spring. We normally place it in her house, because the Gospel gives the impression that the angel came into her room. Her house didn’t look like all the classical paintings. It was half house and half cave. But it was clean and tidy, well kept and comfortable. While the angel comes in to deliver his message, popular devotion represents Mary immersed in prayer. Saint Josemaria writes: “Mary is recollected in prayer. She is using all her senses and her faculties to speak to God. It is in prayer that she comes to know the divine Will. And with prayer she makes it the life of her life. Do not forget the example of the Virgin Mary.” If an angel came to tell us something, would he find us recollected in prayer? We need to pray to get to know the will of God. Sometimes we don't pray because we don't want to know His will; other times because we are lazy; other times because we are too busy with material things, and we don't have time to give to God. While she prays she looks so beautiful. The more she prays, the more beautiful she looks. It is as while praying, God wants to lift a bit the veil which covers her beauty, for us to be proud of our Mother. When she talks with God, her face shines, like Moses when he conversed with God. There is no way any that image of our Lady can portray her properly. Saint Josemaria writes: “What must the cheerful way that Jesus looked upon people have been like? It must have been the same look that shone from the eyes of his Mother.” josephpich@gmail.com

Lent 5 A Lazarus “Lord, him whom you love is ill.” The same can be said of us. We are sick to death by sin, and we need Jesus to either cure us or resurrect us from death. He loves us with divine love and he is ready to come to help us at very short notice. But, can it be said the other way around? Can others say to Jesus: your friend, the one who thinks about you, who wants to spend time with you, who visits you and likes to receive you frequently, is in need of you? Jesus loved to stop over at Bethany, the house of his friends, to spend time with Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Saint Josemaria used to call the tabernacle, Bethany. Do we like to stop over at a church and spend time with our friend? Can we tell Jesus: Lord, I love you and I am ill? “If you have been here my brother would have not died.” It is a very strong statement. It is like saying: you are responsible for the death of our loved one. How many times we blame God for our sufferings, our illnesses, our accidents? We ask, where was God then? Martha and Mary could talk to Jesus in this way, because they were very close to him. If we could see their faces at the time, they would have shown a smile among their tears. It was not blaming him, but showing their pain for the death of their brother. Do I have the same confidence in Jesus, to tell him what is in my heart? Jesus, I am sick of everything. “Take away the stone.” But Jesus, he’s been there for four days already; he is really dead. For the Jews four days was the sign of real death. “Take away the stone.” But Jesus, his body is corrupt and he stinks. “Take away the stone.” I have been in that cave for many years now and it is impossible for me to move. Trust me, take away what separates you from me, a stone, a wall, a barrier, whatever it is. Jesus is telling us to take away what is between us and him. We are slow to follow his command and we have many excuses not to remove the obstacle from our path. If you don’t remove it, you cannot come out. “Lazarus, come out!” It was a strong voice, loud enough for the dead ears of Lazarus to hear from inside the tomb. It goes through the rock. It is the voice of Jesus, manly, well balanced, deep and harmonious, a voice impossible to resist. It is the word of God. The same one that still resounds from the beginning of time. The voice we hear at Mass: this is my body, a body that died for us and rose from the dead. Lazarus came out like a robot, a zombie, an automatic response, against his will. He was sleeping peacefully, more in the other life than here, and didn’t want to come back. An imperative command to come out. His voice is irresistible: Come out of yourself! “Unbind him and let him go.” It must have been an amazing scene. They were all paralysed and terrified. Nobody could move, not even run away. They were all tied to the ground looking at him like a ghost, like a mummy. When we take away the stone, he lets us free. There is always something that enslaves us, either a little thread or a chain. Something that doesn’t allow us to fly, to follow the path God wants us to walk. Unbind the ropes that tie you to earth and go, run towards eternity.josephpich@gmail.com

Saint Joseph We don’t know much about about Saint Joseph. His life is shrouded in silence. There is a book entitled “Joseph the Silent”, trying to interpret his silences, reading between the lines of his quiet life. We haven’t got anything left from him, not a relic, not a piece of furniture made by him, not the place where he is buried. In the Gospel he doesn’t say anything, not a single word. We always see him in the background, behind Mary, as a shadow, a bit passive. We don’t even know when he died. This is why it is not easy to talk about him. We say that Mary, the mother of Jesus, was bestowed by God with the best qualities possible in a human being, to be able to fulfill her divine motherhood. God normally gives us the graces we need to carry out our mission. We can also say that after Mary, Joseph. He too had a difficult task, to be the putative father of Jesus, and God gave him what he needed. If it is difficult for us to acknowledge what God did for Mary, it is harder for us to recognise who Joseph was, clouded in the silence of his humility. He could have done whatever he wanted in life. He could have become the Roman Caesar if he tried to; he had the talents to do so. What did he do? He spent his life cutting pieces of timber. He came, he fulfilled his mission, did what God wanted him to do and disappeared. And here we are, twenty centuries afterwards, talking about him, trying to decipher his life. We ask Joseph to help us to know him better, to be able to become closer to him, to learn from him. He was an ordinary man, a worker, who earned his living working with his hands. He provided for his family and protected the life of his wife and child. We can relate to him. We are trying to do the same, live our lives, working, looking after our families, striving to provide for them and give our children a good start in life, like the lives of most human beings. Joseph lived in a village in the middle of nowhere, with no electricity or any of the modern comforts. He was essentially a worker. This is why we have the feast day of Joseph the Worker on the first of May. He spent his life working, like each one of us; we always depict him at his workshop, labouring as a carpenter. In the midst of this normal, ordinary, you could say boring life, he had the best two treasures a human being could ever have: Mary and Jesus. You can imagine the life at Nazareth among what we called the Holy Family or the Trinity on earth. No other family can be compared to this. It is the model of all Christian families. This is the life we should try to live, because they are close to us and we can live with them. Saint Joseph is our best teacher because he is more like us. We feel at ease with him; his silent life doesn’t threaten us. We can place ourselves easily in his shoes. Saint Teresa of Avila had Saint Joseph as her favourite saint. She placed her first convent under his patronage. She says that Saint Joseph never let her down; whatever she asked of him he delivered. The Carmelite nuns still have an image of the Saint who used to talk to her, with his mouth still open. Today we can ask Saint Joseph to talk to us, to show us how to find Mary and Jesus in our lives. josephpich@gmail.com

The blind man Last Sunday we looked at one of the four natural elements, water, indispensable for human life. It is very much part of the beginning of our Christian life, when we are baptised. Without water there can be neither natural nor supernatural life. This Sunday we consider another crucial element, light, without which life cannot grow either. It is part of the rite of Baptism, when we bring to the newly baptised person a lighted candle, symbolising a cleaned soul, full of light. Christ is the light who came to dispel darkness. On the Easter vigil we are reminded of this reality, when we bring the Easter candle into the darkness of the church, and little by little, by lighting the candles people are carrying in their hands, the whole church becomes illuminated. Today in the Gospel we come across a man blind from birth. It is hard for us to realise what it is to be blind. Try to close your eyes and keep them closed for a lengthy period of time; you won’t last too long. Blindness from the beginning is a harder reality: you cannot dream with images. Once they tried to explain to a blind man what the colour red was; and after much explanation, trying to compare it with a hot instrument, he said that it must be similar to the sound of a trumpet. Colours don’t have much to do with sounds; imagine spiritual things. We are blind from birth to them, because of original sin, and we need Jesus to cure our blindness, to be able to see him. Jesus made clay with his saliva, placed mud on the blind man’s eyes and told him to wash himself in the pool of Siloam. Why did he do that? He could have touched his eyes and cured him straight away. It is a reminder that we are made of clay, that our feet can easily break. The pool of Siloam was outside the walls of the city. He could have gone to the nearby fountain and washed his eyes, but it wouldn’t had worked. Jesus wanted him to walk with faith and show others his trust in God. He could go with mud on his eyes because he was blind and knew the way by heart. We also need to show others that we trust in Jesus. God’s saliva cured him, but it had to be mixed with our clay, with our humanity. We miss something when we don’t have it. We don’t normally realise that we are blind to the spiritual world. Once we cannot see, we notice our eyes, as when they hurt or we need glasses. We have two of them because they are very important. We have also two ears, to listen better; but only one mouth not to speak too much. We know we are blind because we realise that the saints can see things we don’t see. We would like to see what they see. Better, we would like to see with Jesus eyes. Saint Teresa of Avila wanted to know the colour of Jesus’ eyes when he appeared to her; she says that when she tried, the apparition disappeared altogether. Today we ask Jesus to cure our spiritual blindness. First we need to acknowledge that our soul has eyes and that they are closed. Then we have to allow him to put mud in them, and walk with a dirty face for a while, showing others our blindness, till we reach the waters of the Sacrament of Confession. And we need to do this not once, or twice, but a thousand times. Slowly we are going to start seeing; first some shadows, then some sparks of light. The more we clean them, the more light we are going to see. We cannot see the full light from the beginning: it would destroy our eyes completely. And slowly we are going to discover the wonders of the spiritual life.josephpich@gmail.com

The Samaritan Woman Today we meet a different Jesus, less attractive, more human, more like us. After two days journey from Jerusalem, he is tired, dirty and thirsty. He is all alone, sitting at the edge of Jacob’s well. His disciples had gone to the nearby village to get some food and water. Nobody stayed with him; they were too hungry or too thirsty to keep him company. Jesus couldn’t go on and had to sit down to rest. Or may be he was there waiting for the Samaritan woman and for each one of us. How many times we leave Jesus alone, entertaining ourselves, or giving in our silly little pleasures. And we forget about others. It is noon, the sun is up in the sky, the time of the day when everything is quiet and silent, but for the sound of the cicadas. Jesus looks at the fresh water at the bottom of the well with an impossible desire. And a woman comes alone carrying a jar on her head, moving her body in a provocative way. She comes at this hour to avoid other women who didn’t like her, because she stole their husbands. She is beautiful and Jesus is full of dust. Two different attitudes in life: a frivolous woman with a bucket, and a dirty, thirsty God. We are more inclined to notice her than to look at Jesus. She ignores Jesus; Jews and Samaritans didn’t talk to each other. And a woman alone didn’t talk to a man. Her situation in life was very messy. But Jesus overcoming his tiredness and her messiness, begins to talk to her. We are all represented in this woman, in her sinfulness, in her desire to draw water and find happiness. Jesus gives us an example of how to reach souls, even the ones that are far away from him. He begins to talk to her about what is important to her, about the water she comes to draw from the well. We normally talk about what is important to us and we find it difficult to know what is important to others. Jesus asks her: “Give me a drink.” God thirsty and without a bucket to draw water. He says the same from the cross: “I thirst.” You can find these words in every chapel of Mother Teresa’s nuns. Even though he doesn’t need anything, God always begins asking for things. He is thirsty for our love; he expects us to give ourselves to him, to place him at the centre of our lives. Better: he is telling us what is really happening to us, that we are thirsty of him. We are like the deer in the Psalm that is longing for streams of pure, clear water. And we keep coming back every day to draw water from an earthly well, that will never fill us up. Our heart is a bucket full of cracks, impossible to contain the muddy water we are trying to get from the pot holes in the road. Only God can give us this clean, fresh water. This is what he tells the Samaritan woman: “I am the only one who can give you a living water, a water that when you drink it, you’ll never be thirsty again.” A living water, alive, full of energy, with enough nourishment that leads to eternal life. Then, you won’t have to come back again to this well; you won’t have to look for impossible ways to quench yours thirst. It is the water that flew from his side on the cross, when the centurion pierced his heart. It is the grace that flows from the Mass every time we come to drink from his open wound. If only you knew the gift of God!josephpich@gmail.com

The Transfiguration of Jesus Last Sunday we went with Jesus down to the desert. This week he is asking us to accompany him up Mount Thabor. We went down through penance and repentance; now, purified and cleansed, we climb up to the heights of the spiritual life, with the new wings sacrifice and mortification have given to us. Even though it is only 300 metres above the plain, it looks higher than it is, because it stands alone surrounded by flat terrain. There is a magnificent view and a beautiful church on top. It is only an hour of climbing, but the road goes straight up. The higher you go the more you see. You feel closer to God when you reach the summit. It is part of our Lenten exercise, to climb up the mountain of our sinfulness, towards God, leaving material things behind. You cannot carry much weight if you want to follow Jesus and keep his pace. The closer you become to the top, the more light you find yourself surrounded by. Saints love going up to the mountains to meet their creator. They have received many graces up there. The air is thinner, the light is purer, solitude welcomes you, silence envelops you, and here you feel that God is listening to you. Above the sounds and distractions of society, you find a better connection with God. Jesus took with him his three beloved apostles, Peter, John and James, to accompany him; the first Pope, the first apostle martyred and the last to die. He took them on other special occasions. But especially they witnessed both his transfiguration and the agony in the garden. The highs and the lows of his earthly existence. Both in beautiful natural surroundings, a mountain and a garden. They were the only ones to attend both amazing events. Would Jesus take us with him? Are we part of the group of his close friends? Are we ready to withstand the highs and the lows of the Christian life? Why did Jesus transfigure himself in front of them? To show them his divinity, just before he was going to show them his horrible passion and death. He does the same with us. If he takes us with him high on the spiritual life, he is going to asks us also to go through suffering and penance. It is the story of every saint. That’s is why there are only few saints; we like the mystical experiences, but we run away from the cross. In both events the three beloved disciples fell sleep; they let Jesus down. We too fall asleep when Jesus asks us to accompany him. But if three of Jesus’ best apostles couldn’t keep their eyes open, we mustn’t feel too bad when we do the same. When they arrived at the summit Jesus began to pray. This scene in the Gospel has been depicted traditionally as an icon of contemplation. Before we discover Jesus’ divinity, we need to spend time in prayer, contemplating his humanity. Only when we manage to be in deep concentration, detached from any earthly attachment, sitting above our miseries, can we discover the true face of Christ. It must have been an amazing experience, when they woke up and found themselves in front of the real Jesus. They never forgot that vision. Jesus does the same with us. When he asks us to share the sufferings of his cross, he also sends to us a bit of honey, a spark of heaven, a glimpse of his beautiful face.josephpich@gmail.com