Kindness That Has Always Gone Before Us: Thurdsay of the Fifth Week of Lent

Padrão dos Descobrimentos (The Monument to the Discoveries, Lisbon, Portugal) is a tribute to those who dared to trust in what lay beyond the horizon—led by faith, not certainty.

It’s a stunning, massive stone monument on the Tagus River, shaped like the prow of a ship and dedicated to the Portuguese explorers of the Age of Discovery. Figures like Prince Henry the Navigator, Vasco da Gama, and Ferdinand Magellan are carved along its side, all looking forward, symbolizing courage, vision, and the call to journey beyond the known.

In Genesis, (17:3-9) God makes a covenant with Abraham. It is a lasting promise of presence, blessing, and belonging. It is the beginning of a journey shaped not by maps or guarantees, but by faith in the One who calls and goes ahead.

Centuries later, in the Gospel from St. John (John 8:51-59) Jesus says, “Before Abraham was, I am.” He does not only remember the covenant, he is the covenant. His presence is the kindness of God made visible: a love that existed before us, walks with us now, and carries us into all that is to come.

This monument reminds us of those who, like Abraham, set out into mystery, led by trust. Our own Lenten journey is no different. We may not always feel certain, but we are never alone. The kindness of God has already walked the path before us.

As Holy Week Approaches

Let this final stretch of Lent be marked not by striving, but by surrender—to a love that was here before us and will never leave us. Go forward with courage, knowing that Christ is not only beside you, but ahead of you.

St. Bede was an English monk, scholar, and historian who lived during the early medieval period in Northumbria (present-day northeast England). He entered the monastery at Monkwearmouth–Jarrow Abbey as a young boy and spent his entire life there in study, prayer, and writing.

“Christ is the morning star who never sets. He will light your way.” St. Bede the Venerable

Lord, Morning Star, light my way.
When the horizon feels distant
and the path is not yet clear,
remind me that you have already gone before me.
Let me walk, not by sight,
but in the quiet trust
that your kindness is leading me forward.
Like those who once set sail into the unknown,
may I place me hope
not in what I see,
but in who you are.

Amen.

Photo: Karen Curjel, Lisbon, Portugal