I became really conscious of the Lenten Season in my High School. My Dad had a Tagalog (National Language) version of the Senaculo Passion Play. When we transferred to the province of my Dad in the late 70’s, my Dad with his brother translated the whole play into the local dialect, Waraynon. I remember the many nights and weekends we went to my Dad’s hometown Tolosa, Leyte (18 miles away from our home) for the practices, and sometimes we would bring and serve snacks to the participants of the play. The Senaculo Passion Play eventually became one of the highlights of Holy Week. People from other towns came to watch the play on Good Friday from 11:00am-1:00pm at the town’s plaza, just before the Siete Palabras, The Seven Last Words. So that doing Lent in those years was so memorable and full of sacrifices. We were reminded always of fasting, abstinence, and the daily Stations of the Cross.

We all have our mountains to climb, mountains to find peace and moments with God in prayer. In the Old Testament the mountain was always a place of an encounter with God. Abraham offered Isaac at the mountain of Moriah. Moses encountered Yahweh at Mt. Sinai, and in the Gospel this Sunday, at Mt. Tabor.

In the Transfiguration, Jesus went up to the mountain to pray. After ministering to the people by healing, expelling demons and preaching, he stopped all his activities and escaped to a secluded mountain to pray, to commune with His Father. While Jesus was praying, He was Transfigured and His face changed in appearance. Then, oblivious of Peter, James and John, He entered into a deep conversation or total communion with the Father. He poured His heart out to the Father. Knowing the heavy cross (of Jerusalem) lay beyond the horizon, Jesus was terrified, “Father, if it is possible, let this chalice pass me by.”

Much has been said recently on the Pope’s declaring a Year of Mercy for the Church.

It’s been embraced enthusiastically by Catholics throughout the world who are making pilgrimages to Rome or their own Cathedrals to pass through the Door of Mercy as a sign of the spiritual exodus to which Pope Francis is calling us during this special year of grace.

But in some places it has also been receiving resistance, intentional neglect, or plain disregard because of a misunderstanding of what Pope Francis and the Church mean by mercy.

A sacrament is a visible sign of an invisible reality. Matrimony is a sacrament and as such it is a sign to the world of the invisible God living in our midst - the living God who bears fruit in the lives of two people. They are a continual sign of His Power in the world. There is special grace and power within every couple God has joined together. Everything they do singly or together is a living out of their sacrament. Simple things like washing dishes, running a sweeper, driving to work, struggling to make a living, budgeting a small salary to meet big expenses - yes, these and the other facets of life together, have power hidden within them to make them holy. Married life is the ground of holiness, love is the seed planted by God. Life together with its agonies and joys, pain and sacrifices, frustrations and tensions, moments of exultation and despair, all act as the rain and sun, thunder and lightning on a young sprout.