We exist in the infinite embrace of God’s mercy. In mercy, we all were created. In mercy, we all live. In mercy, we all have the hope of eternal life.
The lavish mercy of God pours over us in every sunrise and sunset, in every noon and midnight. With every breath, we draw on mercy. With every thought, we capture its spirit and turn it to our hope. The gift of such divine power in us calls us to lavish mercy with our own lives, to be agents of mercy in all things.
This journal is offered as an act of thanksgiving and celebration for that lavish mercy. It is a gathering of reflections and prayers which sift through our ordinary experience to seek the breath-giving grace of God awaiting us there.
My name is Renee Yann. I am a Sister of Mercy. I love to chase God through the bright blessing of words. I love to discover words in the dark blessing of silence. It is a joy to share with you the humble fruit of those mutual blessings.
Our entire theological tradition is expressed in terms of Mercy, which I define as the willingness to enter into the chaos of others. James F. Keenan, S.J.
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023 and 2020.
Our readings for those years were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
The virtue of diligence opposes the deadly sin of sloth, which is a deep spiritual sorrow or disinclination to embrace the divine good and God’s Will.
On a late April day several years ago, I sat in my office, gathering thoughts for a reflection on the value of work. A sense of early summer teased me from the other side of my window. In my imagination, it reawakened thoughts that I had often tried to stifle — things like, “Be a beachcomber. Retire early. Live in the woods like Thoreau.” (Remember him? He wrote Walden Pond.) In other words, is it just me, or does everybody have a hard time working as summer approaches?!
Which brings me to my more serious message, as you might have guessed. How do we stay in touch with the dignity of our work despite whatever distractions tempt us? Throughout our lives, how do we grow in diligence, and in the understanding that all work is an invitation to holiness?
Our work, in its essence, is a share in the creative act of God. It is our opportunity to add our unique touch to the masterpiece of Creation. How do we maintain that focus while navigating the often-frustrating demands of our daily responsibilities?
I was fortunate to learn a hard lesson early in my worklife. I loved the actual work that I did, but I had a boss who seemed neither to like me nor appreciate my efforts (maybe for good reason, who knows!)
She stifled my creativity, compromised my efforts, and underestimated my contributions. For many months, I left the office drained, angry, and dispirited.
Surprisingly, she turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me in my young professional life. Because of her, I had to ask myself some challenging questions, and discern answers so deep that they really had nothing to do with her.
Where does the dignity of my work reside? Like the work of the Creator, the dignity of work lies in the love and care with which it is performed. It rests in my own truth, and not how anyone else defines me — neither positive nor negative. It lies in my ability to produce results inspirited with care for the community I serve.
Productive and satisfying work is dependent on only one thing — the love with which it is performed.
I must always work for love — not for the love of work itself but for love of those whom my work affects.
I must work because of love — not because of a boss, pay, or recognition. When there is no love in my work, I simply have a job.
I must work with love — because what I create reflects the value I place on myself and on those affected by my work. You can tell when something is done with love, whether it is an apple pie or a telephone response. You can also clearly tell when a product is the end result of a bitter, resentful, or careless effort.
I must work toward love — to work in any other way is self-destructive. My work must create positive opportunities for myself and others to be our best selves. If my work is grudging, resentful, selfish, or irresponsible, it will surely harm others, but I will be the one most seriously diminished.
Now, in my “retirement”, I understand more fully that we always have “work” – something we wish to create, offer, build, or encourage so that we may contribute to the well-being of our various communities. To be able to work is a gift and a responsibility. It is the composition by which our lives will be defined and remembered.
Just as we pursue meaningful work for ourselves, we are called to help others have access to purposeful work and just wages. Work alienated from the common good is self-destructive conceit.
Work, of course, is not always physical. Nor does it always produce visible results. Sometimes in the quiet of the chapel, as I watch a well-worn rosary slip along our sisters’ fingers, I am confident that there is no greater work than that of selfless prayer for the sake of others.
Hopefully, by God’s grace, we can discern “what is ours to do” at each phase of our lives. Today, we pray for that grace for ourselves and all our human family.
Music: The Prayer – Celine Dion and Andrea Bocelli
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023.
Our readings for that year were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
Today, we celebrate the feast of the great St. Catherine of Siena, Doctor of the Church. Her title means that, by her life and writings, her spiritual wisdom has substantially influenced Catholic theology and doctrine.
Billions of people have been baptized as Catholics, but only thirty-eight of them have been given this title. Of those thirty-eight, only four are women. Catherine’s sisters with this status are Teresa of Ávila, Thérèse of Lisieux, and Hildegard of Bingen. Many of us know their stories and have read some of their writing. Of them, the one least familiar to me is Catherine. So, I set out to learn more about her.
Like her three companions, Catherine was a woman of extremes – extreme intelligence, behaviors, choices, and declarations. She had twenty-five siblings, which should have made her mother a saint, in my opinion! When she was just twelve years old, Catherine dedicated her virginity to God, and at sixteen, became a Dominican lay sister. She spent three teenage years in seclusion in her own home, followed stringent dietary customs, and experienced spiritual ecstasy.
These extremes, and historical distance, might make her seem quite different from us, maybe even a little eccentric. But to learn from her, we must meet her on her own terms and in her own time, not within the frame of our modern perspectives.
Like any young person, as Catherine grew into the faith, she absorbed the customs of her culture. The Church was the dominant force in medieval daily life, serving as the spiritual, political, and communal master. Early in Catherine’s development, she was influenced by 14th century Church practices such as protracted solitude, strict fasting, and intense meditation.
Catherine of Siena by Francesco Vanni – 1566
But as Catherine matured, she emerged from these extremes with a profound relationship with God and God’s Creation. She had developed an exquisite sensitivity to the needs of her society’s poor and outcast, in whom she saw Christ. Her confident relationship with God and deep love of the Church allowed her to speak truth to power, shaping both the theological enlightenment of her times and the historical evolution of the papacy.
Catherine of Siena, negotiating with Pope Gregory XI on behalf of the Florentines by Eleanor Fortescue Brickdale
So, I ask myself what Catherine can say to me from the distance of six hundred years and some outdated spiritual practices! Here’s what I came up with: • To grow close to God, we must give sincere attention to our spiritual life, using the best guides available to us, and prioritizing it beyond all other considerations. • Deep spiritual growth aligns us with Truth, and calls us to action on behalf of God’s People, especially the poor and marginalized. • Prayer is a divine gift and should be the constant conversation of our lives. For that to happen, we must deepen our understanding of prayer and commit ourselves to its practice.
After my reflections, I feel I know Catherine a little bit better. I hope I have encouraged you to get to know her too.
Music: Set the World on Fire – Britt Nicole
This song gives a modern interpretation of Catherine of Siena’s famous quote: “Be who God meant you to be and you will set the world on fire“.
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023 and 2020.
Our readings for those years were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023.
Our readings for that year were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023.
Our readings for that year were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023.
Our readings for that year were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
These reflections during Eastertide 2026 are reblogs from 2023. Our readings for that year were the same as this year’s, and some of the thoughts might be worth rethinking. I hope my long-timers enjoy them a second time, and that my new-timers appreciate a trip back in time. I thank all of you for journeying with me on Lavish Mercy.
Lavish Mercy 