Dear Members of the Holy Cross Community,
There is a duality to the religious holidays of the springtime. Cold and cloudy days intersperse with celebrations of newness and opportunity. At Holy Cross, many in our community are preparing for Easter break—whether celebrated at home or on campus—the holiest days of the Christian year. Others in our community reflect upon the upcoming Passover holiday’s themes of freedom and hope and others observe the discipline and togetherness of Ramadan. We are surrounded by beautiful expressions of faith and community as we wait for warmer, longer days.
This duality also applies to the cold and harsh realities we see in our world, and how we understand them in light of faith-filled celebrations. Earlier this year, I was invited to reflect on the power and purpose of prayer in times of grief and loss. Some of our campus members heard these remarks at the Multifaith Community Prayer service. Sadly, they are as relevant today as when I wrote them in January, and I wanted to share them with all in our community:
The impact of war, loss and destruction is not contained to the bomb site, the encampment or the immediate survivor. The ripple effects reverberate across the world. A steady stream of violent images and news stories both polarize and numb. In both scenarios, we fracture and fragment. Our communities become weaker, less trusting and more vulnerable to demagogues and extremists.
What does it mean, then, to gather in prayer in our current context? Well, what does prayer do? That is a deeply personal question. Your answer may be different than mine. Prayer is an invitation from God to offer something good and intentional. Prayer calls me to focus and quiets my mind. It’s where I take stock, express gratitude and connect my faith to the reality of life. We strengthen our sense of self and demonstrate our respect for human dignity in communal prayer.
This is where momentum builds. This is how change happens. You don’t have to just take my word for it. When I think of faithful action, I think of my parents. They were both active in the Civil Rights movement throughout my childhood. They experienced Jim Crow segregation and the tremendous loss of its dehumanizing laws.
As activists, they were committed to nonviolent action. As parents, they were driven to create something better for their child and all others. Their activism was often preceded by community prayer, with people from all faith communities. In those moments, they spoke with one voice, finding courage before engaging in uncertain and unpredictable civil disobedience.
Together or in solitude, we honor ourselves and each other in this practice. We strengthen our spirit and resolve. We demonstrate what hope makes possible, both here in Worcester and around the world.
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Whether your plans for break involve time with others or time to rest, I hope you find space to reflect, recharge and appreciate this season of opportunity.
Happy Easter,
Vincent D. Rougeau
President