by Mary Clifford Morrell
When I was relatively new to my work as a journalist, our Bishop shared his thought that “Easter is the greatest love story ever told.”
This description of Easter, the most important holy day in the life of the Church, has stayed with me for nearly 30 years and I’ve found no other description that suits it better. I understand it, because, like most of us, I’ve experienced the expansive, sacrificial giving of true love.
I’ve seen new life, transformations, and hope erupt in someone’s life because of another’s loving outreach. I’ve seen joy take root in a dark heart because someone took the time to plant the seeds of kindness. I’ve seen resurrections from myriad situations of despair because of another’s presence. These are Easter experiences.
Experiencing something is the surest way to understanding. As adults, we have many years and educational opportunities as we simply navigate life. Even then we are often still challenged when it comes to understanding our faith and religion. Imagine what it’s like for a child.
Trappist monk Thomas Merton wrote about the “good ground of the soul,” saying that “we must prepare that ground so that a new life can grow up from it within us…” The image, of course, reminded me of what happens in a garden, where the soil must be prepared so the seed, hidden in the darkness, can take root and grow to a new life.
It seemed to be a wonderful opportunity to help my children understand Easter. I could explain it with words, or I could put them to work digging and fertilizing and dropping the seeds or bulbs into holes and tending to the plants until they broke through the ground to the light. Certainly, the doing would be more effective than the hearing.
In the process, there were opportunities to make mistakes and roll them into talks about sin and forgiveness. There were times of running out in pouring rain to save tender plants from a storm and talks about what it means to care for something or someone. Perhaps most important, there was the fundamental lesson which the Apostle Paul shares in Scripture: "What you sow is not brought to life unless it dies. And what you sow is not the body that is to be, but a bare kernel of wheat, perhaps, or of some other kind …”
And on Easter mornings, in the years that followed, when Tiger and Calla Lilies graced the altar with beauty and fragrance, my children remember their times planting bulbs and know that we are meant to be co-creators with God in bringing grace into the world.
The experiences of discovering Easter in a garden have stayed with my children through adulthood, and they now teach their children about resurrection, new life, hope, and sacrifice by tending a garden.
Today, they understand what it means to be an Easter people and once again sing, Alleluia.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
While looking for new and unusual ways to decorate Easter eggs, I came across an article about NASA hiding Easter eggs on the Mars Perseverance rover.
How interesting, I thought, considering the rover is unmanned.
Just how far I have drifted away from the world of technology quickly became evident as I discovered the term Easter egg also refers to an intentional secret message or feature in a video, movie, computer program, or it seems, spacecraft.
In the case of the article I was reading, engineers, using binary code, hid the phrase “Dare Mighty Things'' on the parachute of Perseverance. The code was visible in a striking red and white pattern when the parachute opened. All that was needed was for some brilliant mind to decode it.
But why “Easter Egg?”
When I thought of the elaborately decorated Easter egg music box on my desk, and the angel hidden inside until the egg is opened, it made sense. My little porcelain egg has always reminded me of the intricately jeweled Fabergé eggs commissioned by Tsar Alexander III as annual gifts to his wife Empress Maria Feodorovna. Each ornate egg contained a hidden surprise.
The much-loved Christian tradition of dying or painting Easter eggs, and sharing them with family and friends, may not be one of hidden messages but it is one filled with symbolism.
The eggs themselves are symbolic of new life, particularly at Easter, the new life of Christians made possible through the Resurrection of Jesus.
When I was young I would watch my Syrian grandmother dye eggs with red onion skins to symbolize the color of Jesus’ blood, shed for us on the cross. At that time, we were not allowed to eat eggs during Lent so the dyed eggs were placed on the Easter table as a reminder of why we celebrated with an Easter feast.
We played games to see who could crack the other’s egg first, hitting one egg against another. I am certain, as children, we didn’t realize the symbolism of the eggshell as the tomb and breaking open the egg as Christ breaking open the tomb (though the tombstone was really rolled away).
I believe it says a lot about our capacity for God when we find in the ordinary things of life a sign of the extraordinary and allow it to move us into a deeper relationship with God.
As we approach Easter, may our celebrations be filled with the richness of our traditions, and may our hearts be filled with the promise of new life.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
The challenges of the past year have taken a toll on families, not only regarding health but also straining relationships; fostering, at times, great loneliness, and leading many to lose hope in the future.
The coronavirus pandemic played a role in Pope Francis’ decision to declare a Year of St. Joseph to mark the 150th anniversary of the saint as the patron of the Church. The Holy Father observed the hidden sacrifices made by some to protect others during this difficult time, comparing them to the quiet care Joseph afforded to Mary and Jesus as protector of the Holy Family.
Pope Francis is encouraging the faithful to go to St. Joseph, “ite ad Joseph,” in times of need and to honor the saint’s role as humble protector of the Holy Family.
The Latin phrase has long served as continuous encouragement by the Church for the faithful to trust in assistance from St. Joseph in times of need, in much the same way that Mary and Jesus could depend on his loving care.
The history of the phrase begins in the book of Genesis, when Pharaoh instructs the people who are suffering through a terrible famine to, “Go to Joseph; what he says to you do.”
At that time, Pharaoh was referring to Joseph, the youngest of the 12 sons of Jacob, who was sold into slavery in Egypt by his brothers but rose to a position of prominence there because of his wisdom and virtue.
Today, referring to the foster father of Jesus, Pope Francis assures us that “each of us can discover in Joseph—the man who goes unnoticed, a daily, discreet and hidden presence—an intercessor, a support and a guide in times of trouble.”
In his Apostolic Letter, Patris Corde: With a Father’s Heart, Pope Francis explains his desire for the faithful “to increase our love for this great saint, to encourage us to implore his intercession and to imitate his virtues and his zeal.”
Since the beginning of the Church, a variety of legends and traditions have developed around St. Joseph, many from ancient oral traditions, and while they are not based in Scripture they all highlight one or more of St. Joseph’s virtues, his integral role in the life of Christ and the Church, encouraging us always to “go to Joseph.”
Whether we, like Pope Francis, are placing prayer intentions under a reclining statue of St. Joseph sleeping or celebrating the bountiful Table of St. Joseph on his feast day or practicing any number of prayerful devotions, this year can be a time of spiritual growth with the help of a very special saint.
Speaking about St. Joseph, St. Thomas Aquinas wrote, “Some Saints are privileged to extend to us their patronage with particular efficacy in certain needs, but not in others; but our holy patron St. Joseph has the power to assist us in all cases, in every necessity, in every undertaking.”
The Church celebrates St. Joseph three times on the liturgical calendar. His feast on March 19, the Solemnity of St. Joseph, honors him as the husband of Mary, the Blessed Mother. On May 1 he is honored in his role as St. Joseph the Worker. On the Sunday after Christmas, he is honored again on the Feast of the Holy Family in his role as guardian and teacher.
The Year of St. Joseph runs from Dec. 8, 2020, until Dec. 8, 2021.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
With snow in the forecast for St. Patrick’s Day in New Jersey, I recall fond memories of St. Patrick’s Day a few years ago when we had a veritable blizzard.
We had been expecting an email from the conductor of the consort with whom I sing, telling us the St. Patrick’s Day concert had to be canceled, but to our surprise, his email was, “The concert is on!!”
A forecast later in the day indicated the potential storm would be no more than a few inches of the wintery mix, certainly something we could all manage to get through.
So we happily donned our boots and concert blacks and headed out. Unfortunately, the snow and ice hadn’t heard the latest forecast because by the time we got on the roads it was unrelenting. The only way to travel safely was by creeping, inch by inch.
As we arrived at the historic church where the choir and orchestra would be performing, we sat around large wooden tables hoping to dry off before curtain call. “We are all crazy, you know,” laughed one musician. We all laughed; no one argued the point.
But as more and more of our assembly slid in to join us, it seemed to me that crazy was not the way to describe it. Passionate seemed more appropriate, and certainly so for an evening celebrating a saintly, holy man who made an extraordinary difference in the world.
St. Patrick was passionate, and his passion enabled him to undertake difficult missionary work which changed the face of Ireland. But it wasn’t always so.
Patrick had no plans to go to Ireland but he was kidnapped by Irish raiders at 16 years of age from his home in Britain and taken to Ireland where he served as a laborer and shepherd, badly treated and often close to starvation. He spent six years there until he finally escaped and returned home.
His difficult and painful experience began to solidify his faith and he began to study for the priesthood. In a dream about the Irish people, Patrick believed God was calling him to return to Ireland and teach the people, who were largely pagan, about Jesus and the Gospel.
In his Confessio, St. Patrick writes, “I am first of all a simple country person, a refugee, and unlearned. I do not know how to provide for the future. But this I know for certain, that before I was brought low, I was like a stone lying deep in the mud. Then he who is powerful came and in his mercy pulled me out, and lifted me up and placed me on the very top of the wall. That is why I must shout aloud in return to the Lord for such great good deeds of his, here and now and forever, which the human mind cannot measure.”
While St. Patrick was never officially canonized by the Catholic Church, he said yes to God and embarked on a mission that would be dangerous and difficult. He was able to accomplish what he set out to do because of his passion for God. With humility and trust, he walked in the footsteps of Jesus who was the example of life imbued with a passion for doing the will of his Father.
St. Patrick, known and loved as the “Apostle to Ireland,” was an ordinary man who did extraordinary things because of his faith—surely something worth celebrating on March 17.
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.
by Mary Clifford Morrell
Yesterday, a young friend of my son, someone I had never met, dropped by with a small bouquet of flowers. She heard I wasn’t feeling well and wanted to cheer me up. I could see her smile underneath her mask and hear the sincere good wishes in her voice. I was moved by her thoughtfulness and generosity. I did, indeed, feel much better through her gesture.
Just minutes later things would change when I heard from a friend who was upset about a thoughtless, hurtful email she had received from a co-worker. She was so upset by it she found it difficult to focus on her work.
She was writing to me for help in getting down off the edge of an emotional bridge she found herself on, a situation that could have been avoided if the writer of that email had expressed her concerns with professionalism and grace.
But I wasn’t surprised. Thoughtlessness seems to have become a well-embraced mantra in these challenging times. Contemporary author Jarod Kintz explains it tongue-in-cheek: “Thoughtlessness – I try not to think about it.”
Sadly, it’s all too common.
Bewildered family members, friends, and readers frequently ask some variant of, “How could they have said that? Didn’t they stop and think about how much that might hurt me?”
The answer is usually, “They didn’t.” That’s the meaning of thoughtlessness – a careless indifference to consequences.
Fortunately, we are still blessed with the beauty of God’s wisdom, leading us to “forsake all thoughtlessness, and live; and walk in the way of understanding” (Proverbs 9:5).
One Bible commentary explains that other translations of the Bible present the Proverb as, “forsake the foolish,” referring not only to foolish people but foolish things. Some versions render it “Imprudence,” others “want of understanding” or “judgment.” But anyway it’s translated the result is “hurtful and war against the soul.”
We are challenged by our faith to be more than what our society and our culture give us permission to be. It is not an easy challenge to take up. But as Christians, we are graced with something powerful we often forget about: the Gifts of the Holy Spirit—wisdom, knowledge, understanding, fortitude, counsel, piety, and awe.
We may remember those gifts as a list we needed to memorize as we prepared for Confirmation, but in reality, they are tools of God’s grace, of God’s life within us, making it possible for us to take up the challenge posed by St. Paul to the Colossians: “Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you know how you should respond to each one.”
Mary Regina Morrell is a Catholic journalist, author, and syndicated columnist who has served the dioceses of Metuchen and Trenton, New Jersey, and RENEW International in the areas of catechesis and communication.