Greetings and Happy Easter to you all.

The refrain that resonates for us today is very simple: “Christ has Risen from the dead!” It is a simple phrase but it echoes in the heart of darkness, and carries a world of hope with it.

A friend recently mentioned to me a powerful and puzzling line from J.R.R. Tolkien’s, The Lord of the Rings, where Galadriel is speaking with Frodo, and speaks of how she and her husband “together through ages of the world …have fought the long defeat.” In a trilogy which has deeply Christian underpinnings and a message of hope, it seems a dark depiction of life: fighting a long defeat.

If this Easter finds you at a time when life is wonderful, the future is bright as a Summer’s day, and joy is all around, God bless you. Go out and sing your Easter alleluias with a light heart. The First Letter of Peter tells us, “always be ready to give an account of the hope that is within you.” That’s easier to do when all is well, at a time of success, health, and wholeness.

But if you are living through Holy Week and the liturgies of Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter with serious challenges in your life, well, the Scriptures invite you to feel right at home there. Whether it’s a broken hip, a struggling or wounded relationship, or a diagnosis of cancer; when we get thrown a curve ball that leaves us feeling bewildered; when the institutions and communities we trust fail us or fail others; when it’s rejection where a welcome was expected; when our high ideals come up against life’s disappointments; when we struggle with depression and darkness; when we experience ‘life at its dirty work’ to borrow a phrase from Graham Greene; when you feel like you are fighting a long defeat: then, then being able to locate hope is altogether more needed, and more challenging.

At such times, we can feel crushed. But we also have an entry point into the death and resurrection of Jesus that is closer to the experience of the disciples, closer to the experience of Jesus himself. The Lord was there on Good Friday. And in the Gospel accounts of the Resurrection, we see the Lord precisely entering into the darkness that the disciples are experiencing, and by his very presence, alive, opening a horizon of hope that they could not have imagined.

I was thinking about a word we sometimes use as an adjective – ‘Godforsaken’. When I was working in Italy I saw a film called “Christ stopped at Eboli”. Eboli, south of Naples, is part way down the Italian coast, and south of it, at least as the film described it, was a “Godforsaken place.” Christ didn’t make it that far. Well, the resurrection account suggests otherwise. That there is no place of darkness that the Risen Lord can’t reach. Because the Resurrection happens in the midst of great evil and darkness and desolation, it suggests that there is no place in the human condition that is ultimately Godforsaken. That’s what we proclaim when in the creed we say that after his death on the cross, Christ descended into hell, to bring light to the place which by definition was Godforsaken.

A vital part of Christian life is learning to view and interpret our lives, especially our most difficult experiences, through a paschal lens. Lying on the ground after falling and breaking my hip, I was thinking “whoa, I’ve never felt pain like this…” And I realized that many people experience even worse pain, or pain that lasts a lot longer than what I experienced. I don’t want to be glib about this. When you are suffering, it’s hard to think of much else. But when the space opens up to ponder our lives, in their complexity and yes, in their brokenness, I invite and encourage you to look at central mysteries of our faith precisely in relationship to your life, our communal lives. The Christian message is this: Christ comes into the human condition, becomes incarnate, embraces it fully. After a life of living deeply, of joy, of bringing life to others, of love, of challenging injustice and walking with those who are wounded, he is crushed, and out of love, suffers a humiliating cruel death. And there, there God pronounces that life prevails, that love conquers, that death is not the last word. There, in the paschal mystery, we see most clearly the face of God, and we see most clearly the pattern by which God wishes to save us.

Christian hope is located precisely there. And it is for each of us, through the eyes of faith, to learn to interpret our lives in light of what God reveals there. God walks with us in the human condition, in all its beauty and its brokenness. God walks with us when we ourselves experience suffering, darkness, abandonment and ultimately death. Sometimes our life can feel, in Tolkien’s words, like fighting the long defeat, but Tolkien knew that this was not the whole picture, not the last word. God does not leave us in the tomb; we were not born, we do not live, ultimately to remain in the tomb. On Easter morning, the tomb is empty, Christ lives. And you and I, living with that hope, with that lens of what God is doing, are set free, in joy, free to live and love as Jesus did, knowing that his Risen presence is with us always.

Happy Easter, everybody!

✠Donald Bolen, Archbishop of Regina

Dear friends in Christ,

Blessings to you on your Lenten journey! In the Gospels we have heard in recent Sundays, wesee how Jesus does not dwell among the powerful, the proud, or those in high places, but instead chooses to be among the excluded, the voiceless, the sick, and the suffering. Jesus chose to include those on the margins of society. He drinks with the Samaritan woman, forgives and heals the man born blind, and shares his ministry with those who deny him. We are faced with many opportunities to choose the path of Christ and walk on the margins and love as he loves.

Development and Peace Caritas Canada has been choosing to accompany those on the margins for 55 years. Our partners remind us to stand with those suffering from systemic poverty, environmental degradation, and indifference.

This year, for Solidarity Sunday, we are invited to support a new campaign, Create Hope: Stand for the Land. At the heart of this campaign is a call from the Prophet Micah, “to do justice, love kindness and walk humbly before our God.”

This Lent, I heartily encourage you to learn more about the needs, experiences, and success of some of our partners by reading materials in your parishes, or by going to the website. When you support Development and Peace, these people become your partners as well. Carry these stories in your heart, and pray for our partners and the life-saving work they do.

In Colombia, the ACA (Association Campesina de Antioquia) empowers everyday people to exercise their rights and protect their land. They promote ecological sustainability and holistic public policy by utilizing the concept of buen vivir (living well), demonstrating the unique beauty and strength of their Indigenous way of life and sharing this with others.

In Honduras, ERIC (Equipo de Reflexión y Comunicatión), works to document land and human rights abuses. They then help to defend those affected, with legal counsel. They broadcast information on public radio to increase awareness about human rights violations, thus promoting justice and freedom of expression.

Development and Peace Caritas Canada has 66 active partners in 40 countries, affecting change for thousands of people. Today I am encouraging you to support their life-saving missions by making a donation to the Share Lent campaign. You can participate at your local parish through donation envelopes or online at www.devp.org/give. Also consider becoming a monthly donor. If you sign up before Pentecost (May 28th) your donation will be matched by a generous private donor for the first year of giving. This is the most powerful and direct means of supporting the many good causes at work around the world.

“You are the light of the world…. let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your God the Creator in heaven.” – Mathew 5:14-16

May God bless you as you continue your Lenten journey,

+ Don Bolen

“What does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?”

-Micah 6:8

Each year in preparing to celebrate the Lord’s birth, one of the greatest sources of inspiration comes from Advent and Christmas carols, so many of which have rich yet simple imagery to recount the extraordinary event of God, creator of all things, choosing to take flesh as one of us. Christmas carols are such a powerful way of wrapping our minds around the mystery of the Incarnation, often contrasting the creative and saving power of God with the humbleness of the nature, surroundings and circumstances of Jesus’ birth. The heart of the nativity is so beautifully expressed in carols such as In the Bleak MidWinter, which began not as a carol but as a poem by Christina Rosetti.

The second verse begins by acknowledging the glory of God:

Our God, heaven cannot hold Him Nor earth sustain,
Heaven and earth shall flee away When He comes to reign.
But then it turns to the reality of the Incarnation:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable-place sufficed The Lord God Almighty — Jesus Christ.

In the third verse, that contrast between the all-powerful and the poverty of his birth is beautifully set forth:

Enough for Him, whom cherubim Worship night and day,
A breastful of milk
And a mangerful of hay;
Enough for Him, whom Angels Fall down before,
The ox and ass and camel
Which adore.

The carol goes on to draw us in, just as the Incarnation does. We are part of the story, and are invited in, in an intimate way, to ask what we can bring the Christ child:

What can I give Him, Poor as I am? —
If I were a Shepherd I would bring a lamb;
If I were a Wise Man
I would do my part, —
Yet what I can I give Him, — Give my heart.

This is what we celebrate at Christmas. A Creator who chooses the most extraordinary way to reveal a boundless love to his creation. The poet Gerard Manley Hopkins uses a beautiful expression to speak of the Incarnation. He speaks of “God’s infinity dwindled to infancy,” who Mary welcomes “in womb and breast, birth, milk, and all the rest.” Infinity dwindled to infancy is what the Gospels speak of when they tell us of the Incarnate Word “wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger” (Luke 2:12).

And this is God’s way of engaging with a wounded and struggling world. On his recent visit to Kazakhstan, Pope Francis reminded his hearers of God’s “response to the spread of evil in the world: he gave us Jesus, who drew near to us in a way we could never have imagined.”

In this Christmas season, we are invited to immerse ourselves in the joy and life that come from God’s drawing near, from God’s way of drawing near to us. We are invited to enter into the story, too. When God takes on human flesh, it is to our human home that God comes. The Incarnation tells us that God’s entry point into the world is not fundamentally through an exercise of power, though that is there – it is there in Creation, it is there at the Resurrection, it is there at Pentecost; but most fundamentally God’s entry point is revealed in the way he chose to come among us in the flesh, in the way he lived, in the way he died: in complete vulnerability, in poverty, entrusted to the Father, entrusted to us human beings.

And of course the challenge that comes with all of this is expressed concisely by Jesus when he says to his disciples, and to us, “go and do likewise.” During his visit to Canada, Pope Francis commented, “One cannot proclaim God in a way contrary to God himself. And yet, how many times has this happened in history! While God presents himself simply and quietly, we always have the temptation to impose him, and to impose ourselves in his name. It is the worldly temptation to make him come down from the cross and show himself with power…. Brothers and sisters, in the name of Jesus, may this never happen again in the Church.”

This Christmas let us allow the tenderness and mercy of God to soften our hearts, to touch our souls, so that we might dare to walk a little more as Jesus walked, to come into the lives of others as he came into ours. In humility, in vulnerability, exercising authority by placing ourselves at the service of others, honouring the dignity of each and every person we meet, knowing how deeply loved by God that each one of us is. For God has made a home with us, and walks with us in the tangle and turbulence of our lives.

Christ is born, Christ dwells with us. Come let us adore him!

Merry Christmas!

Easter Message 2022

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ of the Archdiocese of Regina, and all who are reading or viewing this little Easter message, warm greetings in the Risen Lord.

As I am recording this, we are preparing for the great celebrations of the Triduum, beginning with Holy Thursday, and a snowstorm is raging outside my office windows. In some places on the prairies they are suggesting it could be the worst snowstorm in decades. By the time you are watching or reading this, you will know! In any case, a great storm seems a fitting metaphor for what we have been living these past weeks, months, even years. For many, because of life torn asunder by war, or the experience and legacy of abuse, or the effects of a pandemic that won’t go away, or other struggles without and within, many people are feeling like they – like we – are caught in a vicious storm, in our world or within ourselves.

As a community of faith, we have been invited, through the Lenten season, to walk with Jesus through the tumultuous events culminating in his trial, passion and death. If we walk through those events not feeling their harshness, because we are focused on the inevitable ‘good end’ of the resurrection, we miss part of the meaning that the Lord wants to share with us. Despite prophecies, the resurrection happened where it was not expected, at a place of total darkness and despair. The cross was the eye of the storm, and the tomb where Jesus was buried was not a quiet resting place so much as it was the place of wreckage after the storm had unleashed its worst.

When we find ourselves in places of deep discouragement, depression, or devastation, standing amidst the wreckage of our world, our society, or our lives, well, then we find ourselves standing where Jesus stood. Only God can bring forth life from such a disaster, only the one who authors our being can ultimately bring healing, transformation, and wholeness. And in remembering the event of the resurrection, in our Easter celebrations, we are reminded and assured that this is precisely what God desires to do. Christ is Risen! And that translates into our experience as this: God does for us what only God can do – lets us breathe again, lets us know and experience joy again, lets a deep hope be planted within us. We are not alone in this life. It is not without purpose. And we and all creation are ultimately in the hands of one who is infinitely good, merciful, just, forgiving, tender, embracing.

Seeing our lives and our world with paschal eyes does not block out the pain or the sense of overwhelm, the sadness or frustration of life. But it remembers, it remembers…. There is a way out of this mess. God knows the way out. And we are invited to dare to trust that the God who raised Jesus from the dead will also walk with us in our times of deepest trouble, and when all seems lost.

You have probably heard the saying, “old age is not for whimps.” I think that saying could be expanded a little. There is nothing easy about childhood; or the teenage years; or the challenges of adulthood, parenthood, work, and communal life in a society marked by a deep brokenness. It is not easy at any age. When God authored human life, God did it in such a way as to draw us into God’s heart, and the life and death of resurrection of Jesus tells us much about God’s heart. There are experiences in life that are filled with blessing and wonder, with new life, with joy that takes our breath away. Experiences, we could say, that give us a glimpse of resurrection. There are also experiences which are harsh – even, we might say, crucifying. Worst still, we do it to each other. And we come before God with hands that are not only needy but also soiled, in need of a mercy as vast and wide as was revealed in the raising of Jesus from the dead. There is a paschal dimension to all of life, and God is at work in the midst of it, transforming us, inviting us into an ever deeper discipleship and ever deeper embrace of God’s way of loving and transforming the world into divine life.

The Lord plants one other word in our hearts through this paschal season, and it is this: The crucified and risen Lord asks that we learn, day by day, to walk with each other; in particular, to accompany others when they are in great need, struggling, feeling lost or overwhelmed. In faith we believe it to be true that we are not alone. But we need each other’s presence to grow, to believe, to trust. God wants to work through us, to express solidarity with others, to show compassion, through us. So as we celebrate the joy of the resurrection, let us rejoice at the depths of our being that God is for and with us in this life, and let us find ways to embody God’s life-giving presence to others in the rough and tumble of our days.

Christ is Risen! Happy Easter to each and all of you, and to all of your loved ones!

+Donald Bolen
Archbishop of Regina

Indigenous Peoples and the Church:
Walking Together Toward Healing and Reconciliation

Dear brothers and sisters in Christ, dear friends,

Here we are, at the start of Advent, aware now that we are going to have to live through every liturgical season of 2020 with the restrictions and challenges of this pandemic. There is a lot of frustration in the air, with a new level of restrictions over the next 3 weeks. But also hope, with the prospect of a vaccine in the new year, and given early reports, the prospect of an ethically produced vaccine which doesn’t create a profound moral dilemma for Catholics. For this we pray.

Meanwhile, we are called to live the present moment as well as we are able; that is all that the Lord ever asks of us. A few days ago I received an insightful email from a priest friend who asked to remain anonymous, but who has given me permission to share his reflection. He wrote, “forgive me. I don’t like to say nice things about the COVID pandemic, but a thought came to me this morning: For the first time in my entire life, this Advent is really going to be Advent, a season of waiting, a season of waiting in hope and anticipation. We should probably do something, at least personally, to recognize the gift of this and remember it, because we will probably never see this again in our lifetimes. For the first time for as long as I can remember, Advent will not be ‘Christmas already’. It will not be a month of Christmas parties. It will not be a month of Christmas concerts. We won’t be able to skip over the season of waiting to jump right into Christmas celebrations on the 1st of December like we always do. We’ll have the opportunity, like never before, to actually live Advent as the gift it is, instead of glossing right over it because we just can’t wait.”

I resonated deeply with my friend’s insight. As with every year at the start of November, as we started hearing Christmas carols in stores, I think, beautiful carols, but do we need to start just yet? The pandemic and the anticipation for a vaccine has put us into a place of waiting, and the season of Advent invites us to ground our waiting in a much deeper promise, one that we can live by, one that gives us great resources for living with joy and hope while we wait.

This Advent, my little team with whom these messages are prepared thought it might be good to have an Advent message each week, centred on one of the wonderful Advent hymns in our rich tradition. It is good and right that new composers and musicians continue to produce new Advent songs for us, but let’s not lose sight of the magnificent hymns which have come to us from past generations of peoples of faith. So in each message this year, I will reflect with you on Advent in light of one of those hymns, starting with the English hymn “People Look East”.

St Paul writes that all creation is groaning in the one great act of giving birth, and Advent is a season where we listen for what is being born, what is coming. Each verse of People Look East taps into that longing. The earth is bare but already preparing for the rose. The birds are waiting and preparing: “Even the hour when wings are frozen, God for fledgling time has chosen.” The stars are keeping watch when night is dim, waiting for the coming of a great light: “shining beyond the frosty weather, bright as sun and moon together.”

And what are they waiting for? It is love that is on the way, as the end of each verse reminds us: love, the guest, is on the way; love the rose; love the bird; love the star; love, the Lord, is on the way. The first readings of our liturgies through Advent, all from the prophets, mostly from Isaiah, remind us that God is coming into our world. We are invited to live in the presence of that promise. The yearnings within us, the yearnings of all creation, were not made to go unfulfilled. We do not live and die for nothing. We were created for a purpose. God is coming, God is creating a future for us, creating a Kingdom through and with and sometimes despite us.

Finally, the hymn reminds us, like the Gospel for the first Sunday of Advent, that our lives are a space where we are to get ready for Incarnation, where we await the coming of God in the flesh by staying awake, by getting ready. “Make your house fair as you are able; trim the hearth and set the table…. Set every peak and valley humming, with the Word, the Lord is coming.”

Dear friends, let us allow this masterpiece of a hymn to call us to a place of deep hope, keenly attentive to the promises of God which surround us this season. If it is a season of darkness in our world and in our lives, let us not despair. God is in the midst of it, bringing something to birth. Of Advent, Karl Rahner writes: “What must live in you is a humble, calm joy of faithful expectancy, which does not imagine that tangibles of the present time are everything.” Brothers and sisters, let us drink deeply from the wellsprings of hope and promise which Advent proclaims.

Rich blessings!

Watch Video Message HERE