The darkest night and the brightest dawn.

When my eldest was quite young, his boundless energy for asking me "Why?" had one day tried my patience. In my frustration I exclaimed "Lord love a duck",  it was not however met with a "Why?". It was met with "Does HE?". I can not now remember my answer but the phrase stuck. Now when ever, my three children know they are annoying me they ask "Is he loving ducks yet?". Usually followed by "How many?". Where in it then becomes a competition to see how many ducks they can get the Lord to love. But some things are sent to try us, and try us they do.

Many things along our lives are sent to try us, things that as a child we would never have thought we could or would be able to shoulder. At this point when the Crosses, Icons and religious imagery are veiled we focus on the burdens of life more. On the surface we have masked these images, hidden them. However, we  know that when one hides things or attempts to think about other things, we think about them more. We are acutely drawn to the sufferings of Christ at this time. He bore his cross, through abuse, blood, sweat and tears. He stumbled and fell, he sought help, and he finally in agony and despair, expired. He did all these very visibly and many at the point of his Crucifixion must have joined him in that call of  despair. "Eli, Eli, Lama sabachthani?" An exclamation that the end of their tolerable emotions had been reached. Yet still in this moment of despair, when Jesus is overwhelmed, the use of "My God" is notable. He knows his Father is still there.

There are ups and downs in all our lives, times when we have all felt like screaming "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" For some it is an emotional point, some it is at the point of watching a loved one die and for others it is the extreme desolation and poverty in which they live. Some of these grievances may seem superficial and unimportant compared to the extremes of others. However to the person experiencing them, they are feeling as abandoned and despairing as those in the most desperate of situations. Each of us have our limits and our problems are very much the problems of the cultures in which we individually live. When we reach that point, it is very often the point at which we turn to God. Some come and talk to God with more vigour than they have in years, many more turn to God for the first time. When we feel abandoned, it is out of a desperate belief for some hope that we will turn to God in our most open and unabashed way.

In the depths of night, I used to sneak from my dormitory, down to the Chapel at school. There I would cry the tears behind the smiles. I would converse in silence the thoughts behind the laughter in class. Towering above me was the shadowy depiction of the crucifixion. Half veiled in darkness and half revealed. So we must remember as our focus on Christ's and our suffering is enhanced by the veiling of our Church adornments. That all veils can be removed in the revelation of the Resurrection. No veil is permanent, be it a physical one or an emotional one. In these last two weeks of Lent, we maybe half in the blackest part of night, but we are also turning towards the light of a new dawn. We will find in the light of the resurrection. That though through the valleys of death we have walked, we have not been abandoned we have been brought to eternal life.