by Father Mark Goldasich
I overheard a young parishioner say to his mom after the Saturday evening Mass last weekend, “Where’s all the snow?” He was disappointed that all we had was ice. Well, as Sunday morning dawned, here came the snow that seemed to go on and on. So, if you’re looking for someone to blame, it’s him!
One thing this inclement weather did was slow me — and apparently much of the state of Kansas — down. We were prevented from leaving the comfort of our homes and doing our usual rushing around from one activity to another.
That’s how I often think of prayer: It slows down the frenetic pace of our lives and gives us the opportunity to ponder. A favorite style of prayer for me is “visio divina,” or “holy looking.” It helps me stop and notice what I so often overlook.
There are many stories in this issue of The Leaven that have to do with the Jubilee Year 2025. In addition to reading them, I’d invite you to do a bit of “visio divina” as well with the Jubilee logo on the front page. It’s chock-full of symbolism.
On the bottom is the Jubilee theme: “Pilgrims of Hope.” Its color reminds us that liturgically, green denotes life, growth and hope. Pilgrims are people on the move and that’s represented by the four colorful figures who stand for all humanity coming from each corner of the world. They’re embracing each other, which according to the Vatican’s Jubilee website, signifies “the solidarity and fraternity which should unite all peoples.”
Notice that the cloak of the figure in front embraces the cross as well, and all four appear to be looking up at that cross. This represents not only faith in Jesus, but “hope which can never be abandoned, because we are always in need of hope, especially in our moments of greatest need.”
Underneath the figures are waves that remind us that our pilgrimage of life is not always calm; there are often rough waters that we need to navigate. That’s why the bottom of the cross turns into an anchor, a traditional symbol of hope. According to the Vatican website, “In maritime jargon, the ‘anchor of hope’ refers to the reserve anchor used by vessels involved in emergency maneuvers to stabilize the ship during storms.” Who knew?
Those four figures indicate that our pilgrimage is communal and pushes us ever closer to the cross. And that cross in the logo is described by the Vatican as “dynamic”: “It bends down toward humanity, not leaving human beings alone, but stretching out to them to offer the certainty of its presence and the security of hope.”
In a column here some six years ago, I mentioned a magnet from The Christophers, entitled “Hope,” that graced my refrigerator door. Some of its words by Maryknoll Father James Keller bear repeating and pondering in this Jubilee Year:
“Hope looks for the good in people instead of harping on the worst. Hope opens doors where despair closes them. Hope discovers what can be done instead of grumbling about what cannot. Hope draws its power from a deep trust in God and the basic goodness of human nature. Hope regards problems, small or large, as opportunities. Hope puts up with modest gains, realizing that ‘the longest journey starts with one step.’ Hope sets big goals and is not frustrated by repeated difficulties or setbacks.”
Did I mention that the magnet, still on my refrigerator, is luminous? Its light shines steadily in the darkness of my kitchen. And if that isn’t a powerful image of what hope should be, I don’t know what is!
