Monday of the Fourth Week of Lent
“Here comes the sun! It's been a long cold lonely winter. Here comes the sun. It seems like years since it's been here. Here comes the sun. I feel that ice is slowly melting. Here comes the sun. It seems like years since it's been here. Here comes the sun. Here comes the sun. It's alright.”
—The Beatles.
The above lyrics from George Harrison are echoed in today’s sun burst of a message from Isaiah: “There shall be joy and happiness…I will exalt in people. No more weeping or the sound of crying…I create joy and my people to be a delight…” (Isaiah 65:17-21).
As March hopefully “goes out like a lamb” we are “rounding third and heading towards home” (as the Cincinnati Reds would say). Here comes the sun— “no more crying or weeping.” “I will create what is new, I will rejoice in Jerusalem.” Darkness dominates no more as the dawn gives renewal and hope. “It’s been a long cold lonely winter.” The world around us awakens from frozen sleep. The expiration date for frost and chill has arrived.
Today is a hopeful passage so needed in the last ⅓ of Lent — foreshadowing an indescribable coming glory. Can Easter be too far away?
Jesus performs his last sign in John’s Book of Signs (there are seven total) in today’s liturgy.
The promised fullness of the messianic age, pointed to in our reading from the prophet, is near. After his first sign at Cana, where Jesus kept the party going, he now shatters once insurmountable barriers by healing the Roman official's son, also in Cana. Even the heathen can know God’s mercy!
Yes, here comes the sun!
Here comes the sun when we, like Christ, refuse the limitations of ethnicity and religion.
Here comes the sun when, like the Roman official, the words of Christ are enough for us.
Here comes the sun when the chill of despair gives way to the healing rays of Christ.
Here comes the sun when we tame our lion and embrace our lamb.
Here comes the sun when loneliness gives way to hope for the isolated.
Here comes the sun when strains of Covid and flu cannot strain impending Easter joy. Here comes the sun made garish before the light of Christ.
Here comes the sun! It’s all right.
—Timothy J. Cronin