“Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers that they must leave for Galilee; they will see me there.” (Matthew 28, 10)
The Risen Jesus tells the disciples to go back to Galilee: “They will see me there.” Galilee is where it all began for the disciples, it was the place where they met Jesus, and he entered into their lives.
Today, the Risen Lord tells each of us: “Go back to Galilee – go back to that time when you realized that I was present in your life.”
During this time of isolation, the Risen Jesus is inviting us to enter into the Galilee of our hearts and lives.
Saint Eugene frequently did this, and he called it recollection. He wanted all those who followed his way of discipleship to do the same, as he wrote in his Rule of 1818:
The whole life of the members of our Society ought to be a life of continual recollection (Art. 1).
To attain this, they will first of all make every effort to walk always in the presence of God, and frequently try to utter short but fervent spontaneous prayers. (Art.2,)
Eugene and Jesus shared a deep bond of friendship – and a friend always wants to be in the presence of a loved one. His days are filled with moments of recollection – of short bursts of prayer and expressions of love.
During this Easter spent isolation and this is what Eugene invites us to do in a special way during these difficult days.

During these days of isolation and lockdown (a term until 2020 I had only ever attributed to prison systems) this may well be the only way move past survival and into life.
But to go back to Galilee means that I must also let go of the present in a way. Perhaps I need to let go of ‘what I used to be able to do’.
In working through my PTSD I “must” go back to my beginning; the years of darkness and violence that I have spent all of my adult life trying to protect myself from. Hidden in the darkness of pain and violence I am beginning to recollect Jesus being there with me. Light is entering in to that dark emptiness and there is a magnificent freedom with that. As I sit here and write I realise that the chains of darkness and being locked-down are breaking; light is coming in. That freedom allows me to move more freely in the present time and to accompany others.
I think back to my pilgrimage to the Czech Republic some years ago. I was invited to attend Morning Prayers in the chapel with the Oblates I was visiting. I could not understand the words and yet I still attended and was somehow able to be a part of it in way that was new to me.
I think of our past practices at Easter, the lighting of the fire and from that the Easter candle and then the candles that we hold. This year we had to watch that on a computer or TV screen. It was removed and it felt different.
Today there is a new light and it is a new day; and recollections and expressions of love are a reminder of who accompanies me.