Note: On Tuesdays, you can find me at Your Daily Tripod, owned by my friend TonyD. A longer version of the post below appears there.
As I write this, I’m watching Passion Sunday Mass thanks to the Dominican Sisters of Mary, Mother of the Eucharist in Ann Arbor, Michigan. I had to turn away from a different livestream that started with a half-dozen priests singing “All Glory, Laud, and Honor” in Latin and English because it was just too painful not to sing along softly with people in my parish I know by name or by sight or whom I’ve never seen before.
Like everyone else, I’m hurting. Since March 16, I haven’t left the house other than for daily walks and coffee or grocery stores. One week the quest was eggs; this week, it’s paper towels. Two friends have had treasured people die, and there’s no opportunity for them to gather and grieve.
Yes, there are blessings for us all in this time. We’re cooking and reading more. We’re learning technologies that allow us to have virtual birthday parties and other gatherings. Still, there is nothing like a real hug, a real kiss, or the Real Presence received in community.
I’ve been writing, even though I don’t feel much like doing it, about male saints. I am doing this only out of obedience—and a contract that obligates me to turn in a manuscript on May 10. And in doing so, I ran across this quote from the great Thomas Aquinas: “For just as it is better to illuminate than to shine, so it is greater to pass on the fruits of 
contemplation to others than just to contemplate.”
And maybe that’s what this time is also about—shining light on Him rather than emitting it, sharing our victories and struggles rather than quietly obsessing over them. When we are weak, He is strong. When we are dark, He is light. When we falter, He picks us up. And sometimes, He uses our frailties to light the way for others.
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