Laetare Means Rejoice

We are past the midway point in Lent. Let us rejoice? We are officially on the second half of our desert journey. Let us rejoice? We are only three weeks from the end of our Lenten penances. Let us rejoice and be glad?

We are encouraged to take a respite from penitential purple for joyful rose today. It is “Laetare Sunday,” and “laetare” means “rejoice.” We are supposed to look ahead in anticipation of the Resurrection. However, it is difficult to be an American in March of 2026 and rejoice. We are surrounded by pain, despair, fear, and anger. Righteous anger, fearful anger, the anger of bigotry, the anger of the oppressed. It clashes and swirls in a storm of chaos that feels unending. It is fueled by fear and bookended with death. 

So… what if we rejoiced anyway? What if we stared down the storm, tears in our eyes, holding our meager flashlights like tiny lighthouses? Can we even do that?

Brothers and sisters: You were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light, for light produces every kind of goodness and righteousness and truth. Try to learn what is pleasing to the Lord. Take no part in the fruitless works of darkness; rather expose them, for it is shameful even to mention the things done by them in secret; but everything exposed by the light becomes visible, for everything that becomes visible is light. (Ephesians 5:8-14a)

Jesus in today’s gospel did not start a revolution or convert the masses. He healed one person. From the reaction, you would think he attacked the Temple. But no, he made life better and more manageable for one person. The light Jesus shone only helped one. (If it also highlighted the bigotry and hypocrisy of others while empowering the one to speak for themselves and the truth, that’s beside the point. Maybe.) 

As the parent of a toddler I am bathed everyday in wonder and joy. It is often the only thing that keeps the chaos storm away, or at least from overtaking. Her very existence is rejoicing anyway. “Veggie straws? Oranges? Clouds? The same toy I play with everyday? WOW!!” I even get the occasional “Thank you, Mom!” This even occurs after an episode of tears and screams because so much of the world is a storm of chaos to a toddler. And, so much of the world is completely amazing. 

Without ignoring the storm or pain or very real work of justice that needs doing, what would it take to rejoice anyway? What would a day, hour, or breath of laetare look like? 

Today's Readings