I was only 10 years old, but I remember it clear as day. And my parents were there, and remember it just as I do. It was 1987. Hamtramck, Michigan, a small city surrounded by the larger city of Detroit. Home to a large Polish population, it was to be a stop for Pope John Paul II during his visit to the United States that year.
Since we lived only a couple hours away in northern Ohio, it was a no-brainer to go and see him. And so, the day he was to be there, my Mom, Dad, sister, and I went to Hamtramck early that morning to see Pope John Paul II.
We got there early, and it was raining continuously. It was one of those days where the clouds and rain just settle in and don’t let up. I remember we found a spot on a curb on the Pope’s parade route and waited. And waited. Finally, the time had arrived. Here came the Pope down the street in his popemobile, waving and smiling – we were just feet away as he passed. The energy was fantastic and something that stuck deep within me for years, bubbling out of me again just three years ago when my family and I got to see another pope – Pope Francis.
But back to Hamtramck…
So, after Pope John Paul II passed, we meandered our way to a large, open park where people were gathering to hear him speak. I don’t remember how many people were there, it just looked huge to a 10-year-old, but there was a large, raised platform I could see in the distance. It was still raining, still cloudy, but it was time. The Pope came out to speak.
And as he did, the clouds above him parted, and the sun shone through. The crowd cheered. It was amazing – a once in a lifetime experience that I will never forget(well I guess not really, but that’s a story for another day) – but one that has influenced me for over 30 years! My family and I still talk about it to this day…
Why do I share this story with you today, amidst the talk in the readings of God’s covenant with us following the flood, and then the salvation of baptism, and Jesus’ 40 days in the desert?
Well first of all, Jesus heads out into the desert, moved by the Spirit following His baptism in the Jordan. But the verses immediately preceding this in Marks Gospel describe Jesus’ baptism and how when He came out of the water, the heavens opened and the Spirit descended upon Him.
And as God was talking with Noah following the great flood, the rain had stopped, and the clouds begun to part, and God saying how His rainbow would “serve as a sign of the covenant between me and the earth… and when the bow appears in the clouds, I will recall the covenant I have made between me and you and all living beings, so that the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all mortal beings.”
The waters will no longer destroy us. They will save us.
In reading and reflecting on these scripture readings, I could not help but think of the visual of the clouds parting above Pope John Paul II that day, 30 years ago and the sun shining through. I envision those same clouds parting above Jesus as He came out of the water, as Noah spoke with God after the flood waters receded, and I envision the clouds above the font in our parish after every baptism – opening up with God’s grace shining through.
But here we are, it’s Lent. The clouds of our Lenten fast are settling in. And we are in the wake of yet another mass shooting at a high school here in the United States. Perhaps we’re not in the desert thirsting for water, but rather we’re slogging our way, soaked to the bone in a cold steady rain, thunder rolling slowly overhead. Once again, we’re shocked, yet at the same time numb to the storm, to the evil around us.
We’re praying, we’re fasting, and we’re giving – but does any of it make a difference? In the deserts and the storms of life, does any of it help? Does any of it stop the hurt around us?
I believe so.
Many ask – “where is God in these moments? Why would God let this happen?”
God gave us free will, to make our own choices and our own decisions. I believe that it hurts Him more than we can even imagine to see bad things happen to us. Things just happen. I don’t know why God chooses to intervene sometimes and not in others. But I do believe He is there, in every instant, with everyone involved.
He sees the bigger picture. We don’t. He is God. We are not.
But I also believe that in the midst of tragedy, in the midst of our trials, and throughout our joys that every act we do out of love makes a difference in this world, for the better.
Every prayer we say, every sacrifice and fast we make, and every act of kindness we perform, when done from the heart, parts those storm clouds in the life of someone else, and lets God’s light and grace shine through. And we never see it. God is at a higher level, he sees the bigger picture.
I truly believe that our prayers and fasting and charity makes a difference in the world in ways we cannot even imagine, and that is why Lent is so special, so powerful, because it is amplified.
And maybe that’s the endgame? More prayer, which leads to putting others before our selfish desires, which leads to more giving and kindness, which results in love. More love can definitely change the world. Love brings us through tragedy. Some days the clouds are parted in our own life, and other days, our 40 days in the desert parts the clouds in the life of others.
God doesn’t direct our path, but he continues to build a path in front of us as we go, responding to the situation, our prayers, our sacrifices, our kindness and that of others, laying the blocks we need before us to get through. We only see what’s right in front of us, he sees the terrain ahead and knows what we need.
And from time to time, He shows us a sign – a true sign that He is still there, that he will always be there, parting the clouds before us as we go.
GN 9:8-15; PS 25; 1 PT 3:18-22; MK 1:12-15
