Centre for Applied Carmelite Spirituality (CACS)'s Podcast
The Centre for Applied Carmelite Spirituality (CACS) is a centre for research and formation that promotes spiritual formation and renewal, drawing on the rich resources of the venerable Carmelite tradition.
It is an apostolate of the Anglo-Irish Province of the Discalced Carmelites, based at the Carmelite Priory at Boars Hill, Oxford, England.
OUR MISSION
CACS strives to achieve its mission through structured study and formation programmes in spirituality from the Carmelite perspective, especially Prayer and Spiritual Direction. At the Centre for Applied Carmelite Spirituality, you are welcome to enter into the silence where God’s voice is heard in prayer, word and sacrament, inviting you to journey ever more deeply into a place of growth and wholeness. Our goal is to bring people to experience a life-transforming friendship with God through a lived experience of Carmelite spirituality that is authentic to its biblical roots.
Centre for Applied Carmelite Spirituality (CACS)'s Podcast
Laetare Sunday
LAETARE SUNDAY
Word & Wisdom is a weekly reflection on the Sunday’s scriptures and the wisdom of the Carmelite tradition. It promises to offer you real spiritual food to sustain you on the journey.
This Word and Wisdom Podcast is brought to you by the Centre for Applied Carmelite Spirituality, Oxford (carmelite.uk.net).
To receive audio and written copies subscribe by emailing podcasts@cacs.org.uk
To connect with our Living Prayer Podcast on Youtube, kindly click: https://www.youtube.com/@CACSOxford
The teachings of John of the Cross on the journey to union with God by the way of self-denial could appear less arduous, if we began with his sketch of the allegorical Mount Carmel. For it shows us the destination, described as entrance into the land of Carmel, where we may eat its fruit and good things. Laetare Sunday is just such a consolation along the way, where homecoming, arrival at our ultimate destination, is the overriding theme.
John's quotation from Jeremiah, on the fruitful land of Carmel, echoes the passage from Joshua. The exodus journey is over, so, is the manna, for the Israelites are now in Canaan and can eat the fruit of the land. We meet them on the plains of Jericho, celebrating the Passover.
The psalm surely captures their joyful emotions. Glorify the Lord with me, together let us praise his name. In the gospel today, the wonderful story of the prodigal son, we see what this homecoming to God is like in human terms.
It is far more than arrival at a land of plenty. It is a journey headlong into the embrace of the Father. This anticipates Saint Paul's words on the salvation won for us by Christ, which will bring us one day to our heavenly homeland.
The old has passed away, behold, the new has come. We can imagine the emotions of Jesus, as he tells this parable about his beloved Father. The two sons represent the public sinners, and the self-righteous group of Pharisees and scribes, the latter group complaining that Jesus is associating with the former.
For all these people and for us, Jesus shines a light onto the compassionate heart of the Father. But this parable also suggests precisely a distancing from the Father, where the younger son, having asked for his inheritance in advance, goes off to a country that is far away. After squandering everything in loose living, he is destitute.
He then decides to return to his father, admit having sinned, and ask to be treated as one of his father's hired servants, which, with perhaps a sense of justice, is all he may feel he would deserve. But justice is not mercy. As the returning son gradually reduces this distance, making his way back, it is the Father, catching sight of him, rushes to close the distance, and does so beyond the son's wildest dreams, for he is kissed and embraced, and welcomed back as son.
At this, the elder son now distances himself, refusing to go inside and rejoice. And protesting about his years of service, he shows that his heart has long been estranged from his loving father. He clearly sees himself in the role of a servant, and we are left with the father pleading with him to come in, and calling him his son, his child.
It is with this parable in mind that Saint Therese, a great teacher of God's mercy, brings her autobiography to its moving close, with these immensely consoling words. Yes, I feel it. Even though I had on my conscience all the sins that can be committed, I would go, my heart broken with sorrow, and throw myself into Jesus' arms, for I know how much he loves the prodigal child who returns to him.
This closing of the distance between ourselves and God is brought out for us theologically by Saint Paul, who repeatedly speaks of reconciliation. Christ reconciled us to himself, he says. At the same time, he urges us, be reconciled to God.
Like the sinners listening to Jesus, which is all of us, may we, in the spirit of Saint Therese, draw near to him, take hold of him with our heart, and remain with him forever.