From Our Pastor
Dear Folks,
Today is Laetare Sunday, the midpoint of Lent. The name comes from the first word of the entrance antiphon: Laetare Jerusalem — “Rejoice, O Jerusalem.”
This Sunday is one of the favorites of children and adults who like to tease the priest. If I had a dime for every time someone said, “You look pretty in pink,” we would never have to do a capital campaign! Some priests respond with, “It is rose, not pink!” My usual line is, “I’d wear polka dots if Jesus told me to!” Some would argue that my detachment from concern over my appearance goes too far! Haha!
But all silliness aside, the priests wear rose vestments today — the color of spring blossoms and the sunrise. In the middle of a penitential season, the Church gives us a moment to breathe and remember why we are doing all this.
Lent is not meant to be forty days of misery. It is forty days of preparation for joy.
Here are two ways to visualize this:
- If you are driving across the country, sometimes you crest a hill and suddenly see the distant skyline of the city you are heading toward. You’re not there yet—but seeing it reminds you why you started the journey in the first place.
- If you are up before the crack of dawn, in the darkest portion of the night, when the first rays of the sun begin to appear on the horizon, they are rose-colored. I don’t remember much from reading the Iliad, except that Homer frequently spoke of the “rosy-fingered dawn.”
That’s Laetare Sunday. When our penances feel heavy and we cannot see through the darkness, the rosy-fingered dawn of the Resurrection peeks over the horizon to remind us why we have taken up our crosses.
The penances, sacrifices, fasting, and prayer are not the goal themselves. They are meant to clear space in our hearts so that we can receive the victory of Christ more deeply. The Cross is real—but so is the Resurrection—and the Church never lets us forget where the road is leading.
So if Lent has been going well for you, keep going.
If Lent has not been going well for you… this is a perfect day to start again.
Pax,
Father John Mosimann


