My favorite way to pray is in the early morning when it is silent and dark. While my erratic sleep patterns also afford me quiet opportunities in the middle of the night, the first thing in the morning is vital.

For me, the Hallow app has been a game-changer, offering a variety of prayer experiences that have inspired me to new heights. I love listening to Scripture of the day, the variety of reflections, and liturgical challenges. The Palm Sunday homily given by Fr. Mike Schmitz was powerfully convicting.  He reminded me that it was my cross that Christ carried on Calvary, not His own.

Because we have heard the crucifixion story most of our lives, it’s easy to gloss over the sheer magnitude of the sacrifice given by Christ for you and me. Personally, I can get side-tracked by focusing instead on reaching the finish line, where that chocolate I gave up is waiting for me, arms open wide, beckoning, come home to mama!

However, on this final week of Lent, we must hunker down and walk with Christ rather than focus on Easter dinner. Stay determined, remaining present to Him this Holy Week by contemplating the part we played in the betrayal, denial, scourging, and crucifixion of the innocent Son of God.

Because each of us is guilty without exception in His Passion and death.

You may protest, I wasn’t even alive then, and I had nothing to do with Christ’s death. But you did! We all have sinned; only Christ and His Mother were sinless. The rest of us have added to the immense trash heap of sin with our own.

Sin is communal. Its effects ripple through all of humanity, impacting generations, countries, and peoples distant from the epicenter. Taking stock this Holy week by reflecting on our own guilt is powerful. Your confessed sins are forgiven, but the ripples remain.

“For all is like an ocean, all flows and connects; touch it in one place, and it echoes at the other end of the world.” ― Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov.

What about my ripples? How does sin begin in our mind and heart and ripple outward to slowly poison humanity? I spent time thinking about its origins. It occurred to me that what we say to ourselves may be ground zero.

• What am I saying to myself? How do I view myself, the world, my situation, and the people around me? An honest assessment is helpful because the words we say to ourselves are powerful; they can lift or tear down.

“Let your words be gentle, frank, sincere, straightforward, candid, and faithful.”                                 — St. Francis de Sales.

Reversing the effects of sin takes practice. Beginning with the person who sometimes needs it most-ourselves. Learning to be merciful to myself, helps me be merciful to others.

• How do I interact with those closest to me: my spouse, children, parents and friends? How many times do I mumble, accuse, or dismiss them? Do I seek ways to compliment, encourage, and show gratitude? Do I pray with and for them?

“And so, my prayer for you is that truth will bring prayer in our homes, and the fruit of prayer will be that we believe that in the poor, it is Christ. And if we really believe, we will begin to love. And if we love, naturally, we will try to do something. First in our own home, our next-door neighbor, in the country we live in, in the whole world.” St. Teresa of Kolkata

• How do I interact with others, known and unknown? Thoughts become words, words become attitudes, attitudes become actions. Treating others as we would want to be treated is the first step in mending the divide in humanity and in reducing the avalanche of sin.

“Whatever love you have for me, you owe me, so you love me not gratuitously but out of duty, while I love you not out of duty but gratuitously. So you cannot give me the kind of love I ask of you. This is why I have put you among your neighbors: so that you can do for them what you cannot do for me–that is, love them without any concern for thanks and without looking for any profit for yourself. And whatever you do for them, I will consider done for me.”                                      St. Catherine of Siena, The Dialogue

• Take responsibility for your words, action or inaction. Be the difference that makes a difference. I cannot change what is happening elsewhere in the world, but I can bring about change in my sphere of influence. How can I be more like the Prodigal’s Father, welcoming back the lost with joy and generosity?

All of my prodigal moments have made me who I am. They helped me recognize authentic truth and love, which drove me back to its source, the Father.  I am grateful for them because I learned from them.  Do I still mess up? Yes. But the merciful Father’s love always brings me home.

So this week, more than any other, recognize the role you have played in adding to the sins of humanity, which plague us all.

It was I who denied Him when I turned away, ashamed of the Cross.
I who betrayed Him when I chose things other than God.
With every sin, I wielded the whip and drove in the nails.
I did this to him.

The Father in His Wisdom knew what was necessary to obliterate the poison of sin that plagued us from the beginning. And he did it without fire from the sky or complete annihilation. Our obstinate hearts, sinfulness and ingratitude deserved nothing less. Instead, He responded in love by sending His own Beloved Son, the only possible solution. He took upon Himself all of our sins and nailed them to the Cross. The Innocent One paid the price I owed and could never pay. It is Him with whom we walk this Holy Week, one step at a time, to an excruciating death.

Because that is the radical cost of love.

What wondrous love is this, O my soul, O my soul,
what wondrous love is this, O my soul!
What wondrous love is this that caused the Lord of bliss
to bear the dreadful curse for my soul, for my soul,
to bear the dreadful curse for my soul.
Paul J. Christiansen, 1955