The day will be a full one; we are celebrating fifty years of the presence of Madonna House in Winslow, Arizona.

Seven o’clock on a July morning: I head out on a bike to the vegetable gardens at St. Mary’s. It is time to cultivate the corn and hoe around the carrots.

The patch here is an extension of our larger gardens up at St. Benedict’s Acres, our farm, which is also celebrating fifty years of existence this year. What a blessed picnic we had together there on July 8th! Combermere Diary will tell you all about it.

Six o’clock on a July evening: I head out in a car with other MH priests for an informal supper together at Regina Pacis, the staff priests’ dorm. We are feting Frs. Zoeller and Wild for their forty years of priesthood.

Most of the brothers have already arrived by the time Fr. Kilcommons and I arrive with the ice cream. We spend a relaxed and enjoyable evening together. How good and how pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity (Ps 133:1).

Two o’clock on an August afternoon: Families who have spent time at Cana Colony will gather for a Mass at St. Mary’s to celebrate fifty years of that family apostolate on its present location at Bennett Lake.

A big picnic with families and MH staff will follow. That perennial favorite, ice cream, will be served to all for dessert. We are expecting a virtual chaos of chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry combinations.

This summer Madonna House has been celebrating jubilees with great gusto and gratitude. From the desert of the American Southwest to the lush greenery of Ontario in summer, we have given thanks to God for the wonders of his grace at work in such diverse ways.

How can we not be grateful to Catherine Doherty, who allowed her soul to be opened by the Holy Spirit to attend to so many different apostolates at the same time. We have been right to celebrate. We give thanks for the many graces of God at work, graces which have touched so many staff and friends for all these years.

Yet there was one "jubilee" that was not so heralded this summer. No messages of congratulation were sent. No dignitaries traveled long distances to attend. No decorations made ordinary settings special and beautiful.

No ram’s horn announced its beginning, and no fireworks celebrated its completion. No crowd gathered. No music and dancing moved hearts and bodies in unison. No barbecue scented the air with its promise of the coming feast.

No speeches were given, no toasts made to honor noteworthy guests. And though it took place in secret, in some ways this jubilee surpassed all the others.

And what was that momentous event? It happened when you or I forgave an enemy the grievance we had against him.

The jubilee horn rang through the heavens when enemies were reconciled, and those who had not spoken for years embraced again as friends.

God’s jubilee was celebrated when you or I had compassion on a brother or sister whose weakness we usually saw only as a burden to be endured. Instead we listened to the old story with new ears and heard the cry of Christ from his cross calling on the Father’s mercy.

We poured the oil of tenderness on aching wounds and let the "blood" touch us as we carried him or her to a place of refuge in our hearts.

The heavens themselves rejoiced when you or I did our daily, thankless tasks for the sheer joy of being hidden with Christ, the servant. What secret love must he have brought each day to his carpentry tasks or to the neighborly camaraderie which was part and parcel of his Nazareth life!

He must have shared freely the fire burning in his heart with its tenderness for the least creature, even sparrows costing but two a penny.

This poor earth received with gratitude—like showers on parched land—our surrender to the sufferings this day brought us. We couldn’t avoid them; they were part of what life brings. But instead of complaining bitterly, instead of seeking escape in illusions of pleasure or power, we tried to offer our trials with Christ to the Father.

This may have come out as a sigh, as a groaning, or as a song bubbling up with joy, but we tried to make of it all an offering that this world of ours might know "a day of favor from the Lord".

For the people of Baghdad, Lord. For the family that lost a little one to cancer. For the lady on welfare struggling to find meaning in her life. For the daughter taking care of her elderly mother day after day after day. For the widow grieving the loss of her young husband.

For the family dealing with a suicide. For the priest caring for his suffering flock, riddled with poverty and disease but not without a sense of their Christian dignity. For the pope. For government leaders’ surrender to the Spirit of truth instead of to the Liar’s wiles!

The Lord has promised to honor the prayers of those who suffer with him. What greater jubilee gift is there than our sharing in his suffering that we and our anguishing brothers and sisters might rise with him renewed?

Thank you, Lord, for this summer’s jubilee celebrations. But what we need, Lord, is an endless jubilee, when you will finally be all in all. Hasten that day’s coming, Lord. Let its glory shine in our midst!