I don’t know about you, but the beginning of 2025 has been exhausting. The trends we are witnessing in our social, political, and religious spheres are at best, frustrating, and at worst, terrifying. And as much as I’d like to take advantage of my geographical location and lean into the distance between me and the turmoil south of our border, I am deeply aware that the impact of this presidency is far reaching. Our exposure to the horrors that so many in our world face is constant on social media and news channels—a fact that leads me to despair more days than not. My heart aches for priests in the USA who must spend so much of their precious time declaring truth against lies and false representations of Christ’s Church.
When I think about that—the complete misuse of the name of Jesus, I wish I was surprised that we’ve ended up here. We’ve been watching the message of Jesus get warped and twisted throughout the centuries. It’s not surprising that millions of people are convinced that to hate is to be holy. However, it doesn’t make it any less devastating. I did not envision writing in condemnation of fascism, genocide, and patriarchal oppression in my adulthood, but here we are. Navigating the very real possibility of destruction on a global scale. Again.
Many people may think this fear is an overreaction. But oppression thrives when privileged people remain complacent. We cannot sit idly by and hope for the best. The prophets would demand more of us. Jesus requires more from us.
I have spent most of this Lenten season sitting with this grief, lamenting the destruction of a connected society, longing for a missing sense of empathy and compassion, crying out to God for help. I have been using Lent for Lent’s purpose—wandering in the wilderness as I wait for Christ to come. And I believe He will.
As Easter approaches, as we make our way out of the wilderness of Lent, I must believe in the promise of resurrection. I must trust that God plans to breathe life back into all the souls that have accepted defeat. I need to hold onto my God who seeks justice and lifts up the downtrodden, who is angry on behalf of the oppressed. Because if I don’t, if there won’t be a resurrection of empathy and connectedness and humility, then what is there left to believe in?
Easter is the way out of the death we’ve been living through. Easter promises a life worth living, where every human being is loved, cherished, and respected. That means our work, during Lent and beyond, is never in vain.
Easter is a reminder to keep fighting, to keep declaring the justice of Christ in the face of injustice. Easter is a reminder that there is a God who lives—who is living for us and with us as we navigate the responsibility of being Christ in a world that’s trying to use, abuse, and kill him. Easter is the moment we cling to as we hold out hope that this madness can be turned around and that the true God of peace and love can be known once again.
I pray you hold onto hope this Easter Season. It is the posture that will spur us toward action, that will bring us together to fight the evil that threatens to take away our humanity, that will bring us to the beginning of a new day.
