a year of prayer: 365 Rosaries

Today, we remember Chile’s first saint on the feast day of Saint Teresa de Jesus de Los Andes (1900-1920). Teresa was born in Santiago de Chile to a middle class family. Christened Juana, and nicknamed “Juanita,” she was educated by the French nuns of the Sacred Heart, where she read the biography of Carmelite mystic Saint Therese of Lisieux.


By all accounts, Juanita led a typical childhood, embracing her education, learning to play the piano, experiencing a close relationship with her sister. She developed a friendship with a neighborhood boy, but eventually ended the friendship, instead consecrating herself to Christ. At the age of 14, Juanita took a 9-day vow of virginity, which she subsequently renewed every day. Her love for the Lord was overwhelming, and following her first Eucharist she thought of little else. At 14 she entered the monastery of the Discalced Carmelite Nuns in Los Andes (about 90 kilometers from her family home).
At that time, at just age 14, Juanita wrote to her sister in a letter: "How happy I am, my dear sister! I've been captured in the loving nets of The Divine Fisherman. I wish I could make you understand this happiness. I can say with certainty that I am His promised one and that very soon we will celebrate our betrothal in Carmel. I'm going to be a Carmelite. What do you think?.... I've give myself over to Him. On the 8th of December I promised myself to Him. It's impossible to say how much I love Him. My mind is filled with Him alone. He is my Ideal, an infinite ideal. I long for the day when I can go to Carmel to devote myself to Him alone, to abase myself before Him and to live His life alone: to love and suffer that I may save souls. Yes. I thirst for souls because I know that is what my Jesus longs for more than anything else. Oh, I love Him!"

As a novice, Juanita was given the name Teresa de Jesus. She relayed to her confessor that Jesus had spoken to her at her First Eucharist—something that at the time she assumed happened to everyone. He had called her to Himself, but also revealed to her that she would die young and join Him in heaven. She relayed her vision with happiness and peace, confident in her love of the Lord, and ready to meet Him. While on earth, Teresa rarely complained, but rather lived her life to spread the love of the Lord. When she was only 19, Teresa fell ill from Typhus, which she painfully struggled with for six months prior to her death.
Saint Teresa wrote, "How great is the mission opening up before me! It's universal, and I'm so incapable of fulfilling it. But He, my adored Spouse, is with me and will give me the strength to sacrifice myself and pour out all my heart's blood mystically each day, because a Carmelite must die at every moment for her own soul and for all souls. What purity my vocation demands, always united with God. To live my whole life in a divine atmosphere. What recollection, what uninterrupted adoration. What peace. How inflamed with love is the soul espoused to the Crucified One! What poverty and detachment of heart and spirit, and what obedience and submission of our being! Carmelite ... How incapable l am, Father, to fit the pattern offered me by my Divine Spouse and my Most Holy Mother."

Saint Teresa de Jesus de Los Andes is remembered for an extraordinary love, intelligence, and commitment to the Lord. Despite being young, she was a witness of Christ’s love and grace throughout her life. Prior to entering the convent at Los Andes, her classmates and siblings recognized her as different. They were drawn to her, and she to them in the friendship and love of Christ. Serving as a model for those she encountered, Saint Teresa de Jesus demonstrated constant virtue, acceptance, and confidence in the Lord, wedding herself to Him, and living for Him each moment of her life until her early death. She was fond of saying, "Christ so foolish in his love, has driven me madly in love!”

Saint Teresa wrote to her brother, shortly before her death: “My time is not my own. I gave away everything I had. Even my own will! I must do everything Our Lord asks of me moment by moment... What a joy! How happy I find myself in sacrificing everything for God! It's all nothing in comparison with the way Our Savior sacrificed Himself from the cradle to the Cross and from the Cross to the point of annihilating Himself under the form of bread till the end of time. Oh, how great is this infinite love. A love unknown, a love not returned by most of humanity.”

The short, yet intensely holy, life of Saint Teresa de Jesus de Los Andes inspires us to re-center ourselves on our gracious Lord—to live and breathe for Him, to sacrifice for Him, to love Him by loving each other. Saint Teresa was open to the call of the Lord, even at age 10 during her First Eucharist. Are we open to hearing His call?

Today, Easter Sunday, we celebrate with great joy the Resurrection of Our Lord, Jesus Christ! Alleluia! The Resurrection of the Lord is also the first Glorious Mystery of the Holy Rosary. We can imagine that Our Blessed Mother, Mary, having been foretold of His birth by an angel, conceived of the Holy Spirit, and suffered with Him as he died on the cross, knew that Her Son, Our Lord, was unlike any other. Her heart—the heart of a mother—died with Christ, but like ourselves, was reborn in the Resurrection!


We, like Christ, die a thousand times in sin, rising again in the forgiveness of Our Lord. Monsignor Romano Guardini writes, “This dying and entombing of the old self is a constant process within us through every struggle against evil, through every conquest of self, through every suffering which is bravely borne, through every sacrifice of love and charity. But through this dying of the old self, the resurrection of the new man is also accomplished.” We are reminded on Easter Sunday that our own lives must be those of conversion and resurrection. That our daily pain and struggle against sin brings us closer to the newness of life. After the pain of Good Friday, and the silent waiting of Holy Saturday, we find the love and forgiveness of the Lord on Easter morning.


1On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. 2They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, 3but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. 4While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. 5In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, "Why do you look for the living among the dead? 6He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: 7'The Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.' " 8Then they remembered his words.



9When they came back from the tomb, they told all these things to the Eleven and to all the others. 10It was Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others with them who told this to the apostles. 11But they did not believe the women, because their words seemed to them like nonsense. 12Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.



17He asked them, "What are you discussing together as you walk along?"
They stood still, their faces downcast. 18One of them, named Cleopas, asked him, "Are you only a visitor to Jerusalem and do not know the things that have happened there in these days?"

Holy Saturday.

The bleakest of days.

Holy Saturday marks the day after. It is the day that the disciples of Jesus stood in shock, in horror, in guilt, in sadness, in utter desolation. It was a day of mourning, of fear, and of silence-- complete silence, as if the entire world had gone quiet. As if the Lord, Himself, had grown silent.

For the disciples, it was a day of hopelessness. All that they had hoped in, all that they had believed, all that they had expected to come to pass had died on a cross. They were deserted. They didn’t know what would happen next. They were afraid.

And they waited.

The first disciples of Jesus didn’t have the hope-giving knowledge that we do. They didn’t know what was about to transpire, how the world was to be changed forever. It is this knowledge that we have that allows us to continue on, to hope, to look forward to the glorious new day about to dawn.

But the disciples sat in disbelief and grief. They no longer had anything to hope in. They sat in silence, hearts broken, lives shattered.

Today, we know the truth. We know that the Lord answered their silence with the most profound of words- Resurrection. We know that by tomorrow, the tomb will be empty and Jesus will have risen in glorious triumph over death. And yet, like the first disciples, we remain silent all too often in our lives. We lose hope all too often. We despair all too often. We turn away from the promise of Christ all too often.

And on Holy Saturday we are reminded of this. Good Friday reminds us that our loving God died for our sins and saved us. Holy Saturday reminds us that despite this, we lose faith and turn from God every day in small ways. And Easter Sunday reminds us that God continues to love us, regardless of our sins. He is our light in the time of darkness, our comfort in the time of pain, our hope in the time of loneliness, fear, and despair.

Tomorrow, like the disciples of Christ, we will run joyfully to the empty tomb. But today, Holy Saturday, we are called to sit in our pain. We are called to sit in our loneliness, taking final stock of our lives prior to the dawning of Easter. We are called to pause, while the entire world groans in the pain and suffering of uncertainty and loss. We are called to wait, in silence, for the coming of Our Lord.



22We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. 24For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? 25But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.


26In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. 27And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will. (Romans 8: 22-27)

During Lent and the beginning of Triduum, I have recieved a significant number of prayer requests.  I am humbled and privileged to lift these requests in prayer to Our Lord, through the gracious intercession of Our Blessed Mother.  I invite you all to join me in remembering one or more of the intentions below during your Easter prayers.

Today, Good Friday, Jesus continues His steady march toward death, bringing us ever closer to forgiveness and new life. On the eve of His suffering, Holy Thursday, Jesus had celebrated the Passover with His disciples, and then taken Peter, James, and John with Him to the garden of Gethsemane. There, He prayed in agony until His arrest.


Jesus has been tried and condemned to death. He has been mocked and painfully scourged. He has endured the humiliation of a mock coronation, designed to make Him less than human, but only succeeding in elevating His divinity. He has carried our burdens on the long way of pain to Golgotha.

And then Our Lord was crucified.  The Fifth Sorrowful Mystery of the Holy Rosary.


28Later, knowing that all was now completed, and so that the Scripture would be fulfilled, Jesus said, "I am thirsty." 29A jar of wine vinegar was there, so they soaked a sponge in it, put the sponge on a stalk of the hyssop plant, and lifted it to Jesus' lips. 30When he had received the drink, Jesus said, "It is finished." With that, he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.


31Now it was the day of Preparation, and the next day was to be a special Sabbath. Because the Jews did not want the bodies left on the crosses during the Sabbath, they asked Pilate to have the legs broken and the bodies taken down. 32The soldiers therefore came and broke the legs of the first man who had been crucified with Jesus, and then those of the other. 33But when they came to Jesus and found that he was already dead, they did not break his legs. 34Instead, one of the soldiers pierced Jesus' side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water. 35The man who saw it has given testimony, and his testimony is true. He knows that he tells the truth, and he testifies so that you also may believe. 36These things happened so that the scripture would be fulfilled: "Not one of his bones will be broken,"37and, as another scripture says, "They will look on the one they have pierced." (John 19: 28-37)

Over the course of this Lenten season, I have meditated on the Seven Last Words of Christ, which has taken me through the moments of His crucifixion. And I have addressed the pain, the sorrow, the torture, and the agony in those posts, all portions of the crucifixion that can not be forgotten. As I write this post, I feel it nearly impossible to summarize my thoughts, but feel drawn not to the sadness of the cross, but to the gift that it holds for each of us.

Jesus, in the moments leading up to His death—a death which He clearly died for us—is still thinking of others. He comforts His mother and the disciple whom He loved, he offers redemption to the “good thief,” He draws us all to Himself in His suffering, reaching into the darkest void of sin and death, and converting it to an unending well of grace. In His death, Jesus creates a new world, a reborn world, a world where sin no longer has the power it usurped in the Garden of Eden.

And as the world is reborn, so, too are we. We are freed from the burdens of sin that we carry in our own personal Via Delarosa. We need only look within ourselves, contemplating our own suffering, and we see the joyful sacrifice of the Lord on the cross—He who suffered for us, did so willingly, freely, joyfully. He ransomed us from slavery.

He set us free.

Today, Good Friday, Jesus continues His steady march toward death, bringing us ever closer to forgiveness and new life. On the eve of His suffering, Holy Thursday, Jesus had celebrated the Passover with His disciples, and then taken Peter, James, and John with Him to the garden of Gethsemane. There, He prayed in agony until His arrest.


Jesus has been tried and condemned to death. He has been mocked and painfully scourged. He has endured the humiliation of a mock coronation, designed to make Him less than human, but only succeeding in elevating His divinity. And now, He must endure the Way of the Cross, the Fourth Sorrowful Mystery of the Holy Rosary.


16Finally Pilate handed him over to them to be crucified.
So the soldiers took charge of Jesus. 17Carrying his own cross, he went out to the place of the Skull (which in Aramaic is called Golgotha). (John 19: 16-17)


Saint Luke, in his Gospel, tells us a bit more about Jesus' journey along the Via Delarosa.
26As they led him away, they seized Simon from Cyrene, who was on his way in from the country, and put the cross on him and made him carry it behind Jesus. 27A large number of people followed him, including women who mourned and wailed for him. 28Jesus turned and said to them, "Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me; weep for yourselves and for your children. 29For the time will come when you will say, 'Blessed are the barren women, the wombs that never bore and the breasts that never nursed!' 30Then " 'they will say to the mountains, "Fall on us!"
and to the hills, "Cover us!"’ 31For if men do these things when the tree is green, what will happen when it is dry?" (Luke 19: 26-31)

The Way of the Cross, The Way of Sadness, the Via Delarosa.

Jesus, taking upon Himself all the sins of the world, all the sadness and pain of those around Him, climbs to Golgotha. His burden is enormous—not the crossbar of the cross, which physically would have been too heavy for Him following the vicious scourging, but the spiritual and emotional burden he bore for us. Everything that Jesus carried up that hill, surrounded by the triumphant Romans, observed by the confused citizens, was marked by the stain of sin—rendered cumbersome, unwieldy, heavy. Too heavy for us. But not too heavy for He who loved us.

We can’t even begin to imagine the heaviness of His burden, or the heaviness of His steps. Each step brought Him closer to His final torment, His final torture, His human death. But each step also brought Him closer to the completion of His mission of love and forgiveness for us. This is clear, that even in the midst of the shadow of pain and sin that hung over Him on his long walk to the cross, He is thinking of us. Jesus stops to comfort the women of Jerusalem. “Weep not for me,” He says, “But for yourselves and your children.” He is predicting the final judgment. He is still, on His way to His death, calling those He is sacrificing for to repentance-- just as He continues to call us to repentance today.

Luke tells us in his Gospel that Jesus had some help. A man from the crowd, who theologians tell us becomes a respected elder in the earliest Christian church along with his sons following the crucifixion, is conscripted to assist Jesus. He lightens the load of Christ in a physical way, even if for just a moment. We are called to do the same for others, in our daily lives. And in doing for others, we are doing for Jesus.


The footsteps of Christ are heavy… And for us, we too dread the final steps of His journey to Golgotha. We walk with Him, on the streets of Jerusalem that are wet with His blood. We know what awaits Him. And we know what awaits us on Good Friday.

And then the hopelessness, desolation, and waiting of Holy Saturday.

But through our faith, through the love that the Lord has for us, we also know what awaits us on Easter morning. Even as we prepare for the horror of the crucifixion, we set our eyes firmly on the dawn of forgiveness, for that is the only thing that gives us the strength to continue on.

16The soldiers led Jesus away into the palace (that is, the Praetorium) and called together the whole company of soldiers. 17They put a purple robe on him, then twisted together a crown of thorns and set it on him. 18And they began to call out to him, "Hail, king of the Jews!" 19Again and again they struck him on the head with a staff and spit on him. Falling on their knees, they paid homage to him. 20And when they had mocked him, they took off the purple robe and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him. (Mark 15: 16-20)



The crown of thorns may not have physically hurt Jesus—this is something that Biblical scholars disagree on. Some insist that the sharp thorns pierced the scalp (and even the skull) of Our Lord, oftentimes depicted in art. Others suggest that this crown of thorns was, in reality, a decorative garland used in royal ceremonies, and that by the soldiers placing in on the head of Jesus, it was a final act of mockery, degradation, and insult.

Whatever the case, the audience of Jesus in front of the Roman soldiers serves to strip Our Lord of His dignity, to make a farce out of His claims, to nullify the power of God. But we know this not to be the case. As the Roman soldiers judge Him, we know that Jesus sits in judgment of all. As they hurt Him, we know that He is the great healer. As they make Him less than human, we know that He is divine.

The crowning with thorns reminds us of our pride and our vanity. It reminds us that when we judge others, mock others, insult others, degrade others, we are re-enacting the humiliation of the Roman soldiers. We are reminded that the Lord allowed Himself to be brought low for our sins, because He loves us. We are reminded that everything we have belongs to Him and everything we do comes from Him. We are reminded that despite our cruelty, Jesus is Our Lord, and wears not a crown of thorns, but one of radiant light!