Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Wednesday – Our fourth step into Holy Week
You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.
“MY GOD, MY GOD, WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?"
From the sixth hour until the ninth hour darkness came over all the land. About the ninth hour Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani ?” which means, “My God, my God why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27:45-46)
At the foot of the cross we hear the prayer of the Son to the Father… “Eloi, Eloi, lama sabachthani? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” This is the moment that Jesus had so dreaded…not the physical pain that he would endure. He had never been apart from his Father. Never. He had never experienced sin. And now, in this ninth hour, he was experiencing silence and separation from his Father, and the sins of all of mankind slammed hard upon his shoulders. This faith-cry in the darkness was whispered, but the reality of it all has resounded throughout the centuries. We can see God because of the hours when Jesus saw only darkness and heard only silence. We can be assured of eternity in God’s presence because our sins were piled onto the shoulders of the One who had never known sin. The anguish that he bore for us is beyond measure.
Reflection: Be silent and still in this “ninth hour.”
Prayer: Holy Jesus, I am without words. I sit in silence. I can’t begin to understand what took place in this ninth hour, can I? God’s sacrifice. Your sacrifice … the sacrifice for us, the sinners. I am loved beyond words and, because of this ninth hour, I can be assured that when I cry out “My God, my God”, God’s back will surely not be turned away. There are truly no words. No words. Only silence. Only worship. Amen.
anna
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
"Here is your son ... Here is your mother"
Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Tuesday – Our third step into Holy Week
You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.
“DEAR WOMAN, HERE IS YOUR SON ... HERE IS YOUR MOTHER.”
Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:25-27)
The labored words came from Jesus’ lips. He looked into the eyes of his mother and said, “Dear woman, here is your son.” He looked into the disciple’s eyes and said, “Here is your mother.” It was a moment of transition for all three. An assignment from the cross was issued. Jesus was asking this disciple to be what we are all called to be … his hands … his feet … filled with his love. Jesus was asking this disciple to be his substitute on earth. What a privilege in this moment of sorrow. What a calling for us as well. We are asked to be reflective of the One who took his place on the cross for us. We are to be a substitute for the Substitute. It was a privilege for this disciple. It should also be a privilege for us. Jesus methodically took care of all that was important at that moment before accomplishing that which would affect our eternity. Having done all of this, he was able to focus only on what was to be accomplished … a Holy Substitution for the likes of us.
Reflection: What must change in my life so that I too might become the hands, feet, and love of Jesus in this world?
Prayer: Most Holy Substitute … I am looking into your heart and hearing the very same words that were said that day, aren’t I? “Here is your mother and your brother and your sister. Here are the homeless and hungry and the down-trodden.” I pray that I might have a heart that will love others as you have loved me and that I will say YES to the discipleship of being your hands, your feet and your heart in our world. Amen.
anna
This is Holy Tuesday – Our third step into Holy Week
You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.
“DEAR WOMAN, HERE IS YOUR SON ... HERE IS YOUR MOTHER.”
Near the cross of Jesus stood his mother, his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother there, and the disciple whom he loved standing nearby, he said to his mother, “Dear woman, here is your son,” and to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” From that time on, this disciple took her into his home. (John 19:25-27)
The labored words came from Jesus’ lips. He looked into the eyes of his mother and said, “Dear woman, here is your son.” He looked into the disciple’s eyes and said, “Here is your mother.” It was a moment of transition for all three. An assignment from the cross was issued. Jesus was asking this disciple to be what we are all called to be … his hands … his feet … filled with his love. Jesus was asking this disciple to be his substitute on earth. What a privilege in this moment of sorrow. What a calling for us as well. We are asked to be reflective of the One who took his place on the cross for us. We are to be a substitute for the Substitute. It was a privilege for this disciple. It should also be a privilege for us. Jesus methodically took care of all that was important at that moment before accomplishing that which would affect our eternity. Having done all of this, he was able to focus only on what was to be accomplished … a Holy Substitution for the likes of us.
Reflection: What must change in my life so that I too might become the hands, feet, and love of Jesus in this world?
Prayer: Most Holy Substitute … I am looking into your heart and hearing the very same words that were said that day, aren’t I? “Here is your mother and your brother and your sister. Here are the homeless and hungry and the down-trodden.” I pray that I might have a heart that will love others as you have loved me and that I will say YES to the discipleship of being your hands, your feet and your heart in our world. Amen.
anna
Monday, March 29, 2010
"Today, you will be with me in Paradise"
Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
This is Holy Monday – Our second step into Holy Week
You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.
"TODAY YOU WILL BE WITH ME IN PARADISE"
One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43)
On Golgotha’s hill stood three crosses. The two criminals on either side of Jesus heard his first words uttered from his own cross. “Father, forgive them…” Forgiveness was already in place and Paradise was within sight right at that very moment. Even after hearing his prayers for forgiveness, one criminal hurled insults at Jesus. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” This cross sadly becomes a cross of rebellion and rejection. On the other side of Jesus’ cross, hangs a criminal who truly did hear Jesus’ words and allowed this incredible prayer of forgiveness to become a holy promise for him in his last hours. This man’s last hope hinged on what he had heard from the central cross. The words rang in his ear and in his heart. “Father, forgive them….” And with a contrite and repentant heart, this criminal says, “I have done wrong, but you have not. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” His cross had, at that moment, become a cross of repentance and the words that bring us to our knees were said that day. “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” The central cross stands tall as the cross of redemption. Forgiveness is in place, nailed to that cross with unremovable nails. Assurance of eternal life comes with our words “Jesus, You are my Lord and Savior. Remember me today.” Grace freely given and mercy so undeserved. We have been redeemed.
Reflection: With the ringing of Jesus’ prayers for forgiveness still in our hearts, we come to the cross this day to say “Remember me, Jesus, today!” There are so many in this world who need to hear that forgiveness and salvation is available to them. Today. Now. Consider how you might share this freeing and eternal hope with others.
Prayer: Most Holy Redeemer … Unfathomable love kept you on the cross for both my sake and others’ sake. Open my eyes and heart so that I might live in this world as both forgiven and forgiving. Let me not keep your forgiveness and salvation to myself. Place before me opportunities to share this eternal promise with others. Today. Amen.
anna
This is Holy Monday – Our second step into Holy Week
You are now invited, each day of this week, to a time of personal reflection and prayer.
"TODAY YOU WILL BE WITH ME IN PARADISE"
One of the criminals who hung there hurled insults at him: “Aren’t you the Christ? Save yourself and us!” But the other criminal rebuked him. “Don’t you fear God,” he said, “since you are under the same sentence? We are punished justly, for we are getting what our deeds deserve. But this man has done nothing wrong.” Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” Jesus answered him, “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” (Luke 23:39-43)
On Golgotha’s hill stood three crosses. The two criminals on either side of Jesus heard his first words uttered from his own cross. “Father, forgive them…” Forgiveness was already in place and Paradise was within sight right at that very moment. Even after hearing his prayers for forgiveness, one criminal hurled insults at Jesus. “Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!” This cross sadly becomes a cross of rebellion and rejection. On the other side of Jesus’ cross, hangs a criminal who truly did hear Jesus’ words and allowed this incredible prayer of forgiveness to become a holy promise for him in his last hours. This man’s last hope hinged on what he had heard from the central cross. The words rang in his ear and in his heart. “Father, forgive them….” And with a contrite and repentant heart, this criminal says, “I have done wrong, but you have not. Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.” His cross had, at that moment, become a cross of repentance and the words that bring us to our knees were said that day. “I tell you the truth, today you will be with me in Paradise.” The central cross stands tall as the cross of redemption. Forgiveness is in place, nailed to that cross with unremovable nails. Assurance of eternal life comes with our words “Jesus, You are my Lord and Savior. Remember me today.” Grace freely given and mercy so undeserved. We have been redeemed.
Reflection: With the ringing of Jesus’ prayers for forgiveness still in our hearts, we come to the cross this day to say “Remember me, Jesus, today!” There are so many in this world who need to hear that forgiveness and salvation is available to them. Today. Now. Consider how you might share this freeing and eternal hope with others.
Prayer: Most Holy Redeemer … Unfathomable love kept you on the cross for both my sake and others’ sake. Open my eyes and heart so that I might live in this world as both forgiven and forgiving. Let me not keep your forgiveness and salvation to myself. Place before me opportunities to share this eternal promise with others. Today. Amen.
anna
"Father, Forgive Them ... "
Meditations and prayers on the last words of Christ
Our first steps into Holy Week/Sunday, March 28, 2010
As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven,Jesus
resolutely set out for Jerusalem. (Luke 9:51)
RESOLUTELY. This is a word filled with both focused intent and unimaginable love for it is the word used to describe Jesus’ journey to the cross. He resolutely set his sights on Jerusalem and on the
cross with each of us in mind. We are disciples among the
Twelve…disciples asking the same questions, hearing Jesus’ prayers for
us, looking at the same Lord and hearing the same nails being pounded
into the same cross. Holy Week is a difficult week for sure. We find
ourselves standing in the shadow of the cross and looking into the
face of our crucified Lord. We will cry out “what wondrous love is
this?” … and in the same breath whisper, “I so need you to do this for
me.” We cannot live in the power of the resurrection if we haven’t
walked with Jesus to the cross and paused to look and listen.
You are now invited, each day of this week, to personal meditations
based on Jesus’ words from the cross.
"FATHER, FORGIVE THEM, FOR THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING."
Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be
executed. When they came to the place called The Skull, there they
crucified him, along with the criminals – one on his right, the other
on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know
what they are doing.” (Luke 23:32-34)
What Wondrous Love is this…offering such a prayer in his first words
as he hung on the cross? What Wondrous Love is this, that the Son of
God should plea for mercy and forgiveness for those who accuse and
crucify him, those who deny him and hide from him, and those who turn
their backs on him by omission? What Wondrous Love is this that Jesus
should exert such painful and physical effort to pray to his Father
(and our God) for each one of us? Those who have received and felt
the healing of God’s forgiveness understand this Wondrous Love. It is
the love of Jesus Christ who spent his last efforts on the cross and
his last breaths to ask for forgiveness on our behalf. And to Jesus,
these words were important enough to say first … before all other
words.
Reflection:
1.)Where do these words need to be taken to heart in my own life?
2.)To whom do I need to offer such forgiveness as this?
Prayer: Wondrous Love…. Your first words disturb me. I so need to
hear your words of forgiveness for those things I have just placed at
your feet (and for those things left unsaid). And yet, in receiving
your forgiveness, you look into my heart and say “Go and do likewise”.
Heal my soul with your forgiving, wondrous love, O Lord. I pray that
I will show others mercy just as you have shown me mercy … that I will
be forgiving as you have forgiven me. Amen.
anna
Our first steps into Holy Week/Sunday, March 28, 2010
As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven,Jesus
resolutely set out for Jerusalem. (Luke 9:51)
RESOLUTELY. This is a word filled with both focused intent and unimaginable love for it is the word used to describe Jesus’ journey to the cross. He resolutely set his sights on Jerusalem and on the
cross with each of us in mind. We are disciples among the
Twelve…disciples asking the same questions, hearing Jesus’ prayers for
us, looking at the same Lord and hearing the same nails being pounded
into the same cross. Holy Week is a difficult week for sure. We find
ourselves standing in the shadow of the cross and looking into the
face of our crucified Lord. We will cry out “what wondrous love is
this?” … and in the same breath whisper, “I so need you to do this for
me.” We cannot live in the power of the resurrection if we haven’t
walked with Jesus to the cross and paused to look and listen.
You are now invited, each day of this week, to personal meditations
based on Jesus’ words from the cross.
"FATHER, FORGIVE THEM, FOR THEY DO NOT KNOW WHAT THEY ARE DOING."
Two other men, both criminals, were also led out with him to be
executed. When they came to the place called The Skull, there they
crucified him, along with the criminals – one on his right, the other
on his left. Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know
what they are doing.” (Luke 23:32-34)
What Wondrous Love is this…offering such a prayer in his first words
as he hung on the cross? What Wondrous Love is this, that the Son of
God should plea for mercy and forgiveness for those who accuse and
crucify him, those who deny him and hide from him, and those who turn
their backs on him by omission? What Wondrous Love is this that Jesus
should exert such painful and physical effort to pray to his Father
(and our God) for each one of us? Those who have received and felt
the healing of God’s forgiveness understand this Wondrous Love. It is
the love of Jesus Christ who spent his last efforts on the cross and
his last breaths to ask for forgiveness on our behalf. And to Jesus,
these words were important enough to say first … before all other
words.
Reflection:
1.)Where do these words need to be taken to heart in my own life?
2.)To whom do I need to offer such forgiveness as this?
Prayer: Wondrous Love…. Your first words disturb me. I so need to
hear your words of forgiveness for those things I have just placed at
your feet (and for those things left unsaid). And yet, in receiving
your forgiveness, you look into my heart and say “Go and do likewise”.
Heal my soul with your forgiving, wondrous love, O Lord. I pray that
I will show others mercy just as you have shown me mercy … that I will
be forgiving as you have forgiven me. Amen.
anna
Monday, March 22, 2010
"No Wonder"
(Please read Luke 19:35-38,41-42 and Matthew 21:1-11) Palm Sunday
No wonder. No wonder there was joy among the Jews as Jesus rode toward Jerusalem on a colt. No wonder the crowds were shouting “Hosanna” and waving palm branches. No wonder cloaks were placed on the ground as the long-awaited messiah-king passed by. They were the oppressed, both politically and spiritually. They were searching and hoping for the return of the one who had been promised to them, the one who would free them from their oppression. They were the people of Israel who remembered the words of Zechariah. ”See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey.” No wonder there was rejoicing as the colt and “king” passed by. Jesus was this messiah-king who would rescue them and give them freedom. No wonder there was rejoicing.
But some of those who stood along the side of the road to Jerusalem that day were also the very ones who forgot the words of Isaiah. ”But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” No wonder songs of praise and shouts of “Hosanna” soon would turn to shouts of “CRUCIFY HIM. CRUCIFY HIM.” There is no wonder in it all. The “Palm Sunday crowd” wanted a messiah-king of their own making. They had witnessed healings and miracles. Just a few miles from Jerusalem, Lazarus was raised from the dead by the very one who was now passing by. Yet, the conquering messiah of their dreams and the objections voiced by the priests blinded them to the true Messiah who was riding the colt toward their city.
No wonder. No wonder there were tears flowing from the eyes of Jesus. No wonder there were sobs from deep within. In the midst of the celebration, those who had sacrificed their cloaks for the one passing by had missed the Messiah of God's making. They do not see his tears. They do not hear his sobs. No wonder his heart was breaking. Jesus knew that they had not heard what he had been saying to them. He knew that they would soon turn their backs on him. He knew all of this even as he climbed onto the back of the colt. He knew that they wanted a conquering hero without battle scars. And he also knew that to conquer their sins, he must be wounded, even to death. His tears were not for the path that was placed before him. His sobs were for those who would reject him, those who would turn their backs on the Son of God as he passed by, those who would all too soon toss their palm branches by the wayside and murmur, “this is not the messiah whom I am looking for.”
Now our Lenten journey takes us to Jerusalem. As we stand, with palm branches in hand, practicing our “Hosannas”, know that we will soon be asked by the Messiah of God’s making, “Who do you say that I am?” What will our answer be?
God of grace and mercy … You have now handed us a palm branch and placed us on the side of a dusty road leading into Jerusalem. On this last portion of our Lenten journey, you are asking even more of us than in previous days. You are truly asking us to declare who the One is who is riding toward the cross on this lumbering donkey, aren’t you? O God, we pray that we will wave our palm branches not because everyone else is, but because we must. We pray that our shouts of “Hosannas” don’t echo with a hollowness of meaning. Turn our hearts so that we might look fully into Jesus’ face and know, without a doubt, that he is the Messiah of your making. Give us the courage and strength to tell others. Amen.
anna
No wonder. No wonder there was joy among the Jews as Jesus rode toward Jerusalem on a colt. No wonder the crowds were shouting “Hosanna” and waving palm branches. No wonder cloaks were placed on the ground as the long-awaited messiah-king passed by. They were the oppressed, both politically and spiritually. They were searching and hoping for the return of the one who had been promised to them, the one who would free them from their oppression. They were the people of Israel who remembered the words of Zechariah. ”See, your king comes to you, righteous and having salvation, gentle and riding on a donkey.” No wonder there was rejoicing as the colt and “king” passed by. Jesus was this messiah-king who would rescue them and give them freedom. No wonder there was rejoicing.
But some of those who stood along the side of the road to Jerusalem that day were also the very ones who forgot the words of Isaiah. ”But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” No wonder songs of praise and shouts of “Hosanna” soon would turn to shouts of “CRUCIFY HIM. CRUCIFY HIM.” There is no wonder in it all. The “Palm Sunday crowd” wanted a messiah-king of their own making. They had witnessed healings and miracles. Just a few miles from Jerusalem, Lazarus was raised from the dead by the very one who was now passing by. Yet, the conquering messiah of their dreams and the objections voiced by the priests blinded them to the true Messiah who was riding the colt toward their city.
No wonder. No wonder there were tears flowing from the eyes of Jesus. No wonder there were sobs from deep within. In the midst of the celebration, those who had sacrificed their cloaks for the one passing by had missed the Messiah of God's making. They do not see his tears. They do not hear his sobs. No wonder his heart was breaking. Jesus knew that they had not heard what he had been saying to them. He knew that they would soon turn their backs on him. He knew all of this even as he climbed onto the back of the colt. He knew that they wanted a conquering hero without battle scars. And he also knew that to conquer their sins, he must be wounded, even to death. His tears were not for the path that was placed before him. His sobs were for those who would reject him, those who would turn their backs on the Son of God as he passed by, those who would all too soon toss their palm branches by the wayside and murmur, “this is not the messiah whom I am looking for.”
Now our Lenten journey takes us to Jerusalem. As we stand, with palm branches in hand, practicing our “Hosannas”, know that we will soon be asked by the Messiah of God’s making, “Who do you say that I am?” What will our answer be?
God of grace and mercy … You have now handed us a palm branch and placed us on the side of a dusty road leading into Jerusalem. On this last portion of our Lenten journey, you are asking even more of us than in previous days. You are truly asking us to declare who the One is who is riding toward the cross on this lumbering donkey, aren’t you? O God, we pray that we will wave our palm branches not because everyone else is, but because we must. We pray that our shouts of “Hosannas” don’t echo with a hollowness of meaning. Turn our hearts so that we might look fully into Jesus’ face and know, without a doubt, that he is the Messiah of your making. Give us the courage and strength to tell others. Amen.
anna
Monday, March 15, 2010
"A Change of Time"
(Please read John 12:1-8)
Lectionary Lent 5-C
Yesterday, I opened the door to a new time. I stepped out into a new day. The air was crisp and felt clean. The birds were singing in chorus, as joyfully as birds know how to sing as if they knew that "something" was different about the morning; as if they knew that there had been a change of time. They could hardly wait for dawn to break so that they could be the first to burst into song. Yesterday, I opened the door to a new time. There was worship in the air that was different. Was it because of the change of time?
As we read today’s Scriptures, there is this realization within us that there is indeed a change of time. Our Lenten journey toward Jerusalem has stopped for a while. For so many days, we have been in prayer and come before God with repentant hearts. There has been reflection and healing. But now Jesus wants to spend more time with each of us, apart from the growing crowds in Jerusalem. It is in this "change of time", this time of fellowship with him, when our hearts are exposed. Will we pour out extravagant love and worship our Lord’s way? Are we filled with a love for Jesus to the point of overflowing? This is what this change of time is all about. It is a time to think about these things. Where are our hearts?
There is something quite breathtaking in Mary’s act of extravagant worship. Did Martha stop serving others and gasp at the sight of her sister loosening her hair, or was she too busy to notice? Did anyone hear the sounds of the perfume’s container being broken open or did all heads turn at the first scents that floated into the air? Were mumbles first uttered from the men around the table or were there shouts of "STOP!" Surely, spontaneous and extravagant acts of worship silence a room for a moment before any objections can be voiced.
Outside of the walls of Lazarus’ house, rumblings of fear, power and hatred could be heard as if thunder in the distance. Inside the home, disciples and friends gathered with Jesus to enjoy each other’s company. Suddenly "the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume." There she was. Mary in worship, pouring her most costly possession on the feet of her Lord. Anointing his feet with nard. Wiping them with her loosened hair. This was an extravagant outpouring of love and spontaneous worship that could wait no longer. Judas objected, but it didn’t seem to matter. Mary, above all others, knew that Jesus was her Lord and Savior. While the others had failed to listen closely as they walked with Jesus, while the others argued among themselves, while the others slept, Mary had pondered Jesus’ miracles and listened carefully to his words. She had witnessed the power of God. She had experienced God’s love. She knew that the One who sat at her table was truly the Messiah. Down came her hair. Out came her most priceless possession. The perfume of adoration, love, worship, praise and offering filled the room and ultimately the world. That is what extravagant worship is like … spontaneous, overflowing, priceless and permeating.
Yes, yesterday there was a change of time. What will today bring in this new light? Extravagant worship? Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and smell worship’s fragrance.
O God … Suddenly we see that this change of time calls for each of us to stop and claim who Jesus is in our life. May our worship be akin to Mary’s worship … spontaneous and extravagant with a love for Jesus that breaks open our hearts and cannot help but flow, scenting our world with love and compassion for others and calling us to costly discipleship. Change our time, O God. Change our time. Amen.
anna
Lectionary Lent 5-C
Yesterday, I opened the door to a new time. I stepped out into a new day. The air was crisp and felt clean. The birds were singing in chorus, as joyfully as birds know how to sing as if they knew that "something" was different about the morning; as if they knew that there had been a change of time. They could hardly wait for dawn to break so that they could be the first to burst into song. Yesterday, I opened the door to a new time. There was worship in the air that was different. Was it because of the change of time?
As we read today’s Scriptures, there is this realization within us that there is indeed a change of time. Our Lenten journey toward Jerusalem has stopped for a while. For so many days, we have been in prayer and come before God with repentant hearts. There has been reflection and healing. But now Jesus wants to spend more time with each of us, apart from the growing crowds in Jerusalem. It is in this "change of time", this time of fellowship with him, when our hearts are exposed. Will we pour out extravagant love and worship our Lord’s way? Are we filled with a love for Jesus to the point of overflowing? This is what this change of time is all about. It is a time to think about these things. Where are our hearts?
There is something quite breathtaking in Mary’s act of extravagant worship. Did Martha stop serving others and gasp at the sight of her sister loosening her hair, or was she too busy to notice? Did anyone hear the sounds of the perfume’s container being broken open or did all heads turn at the first scents that floated into the air? Were mumbles first uttered from the men around the table or were there shouts of "STOP!" Surely, spontaneous and extravagant acts of worship silence a room for a moment before any objections can be voiced.
Outside of the walls of Lazarus’ house, rumblings of fear, power and hatred could be heard as if thunder in the distance. Inside the home, disciples and friends gathered with Jesus to enjoy each other’s company. Suddenly "the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume." There she was. Mary in worship, pouring her most costly possession on the feet of her Lord. Anointing his feet with nard. Wiping them with her loosened hair. This was an extravagant outpouring of love and spontaneous worship that could wait no longer. Judas objected, but it didn’t seem to matter. Mary, above all others, knew that Jesus was her Lord and Savior. While the others had failed to listen closely as they walked with Jesus, while the others argued among themselves, while the others slept, Mary had pondered Jesus’ miracles and listened carefully to his words. She had witnessed the power of God. She had experienced God’s love. She knew that the One who sat at her table was truly the Messiah. Down came her hair. Out came her most priceless possession. The perfume of adoration, love, worship, praise and offering filled the room and ultimately the world. That is what extravagant worship is like … spontaneous, overflowing, priceless and permeating.
Yes, yesterday there was a change of time. What will today bring in this new light? Extravagant worship? Close your eyes. Take a deep breath and smell worship’s fragrance.
O God … Suddenly we see that this change of time calls for each of us to stop and claim who Jesus is in our life. May our worship be akin to Mary’s worship … spontaneous and extravagant with a love for Jesus that breaks open our hearts and cannot help but flow, scenting our world with love and compassion for others and calling us to costly discipleship. Change our time, O God. Change our time. Amen.
anna
Monday, March 8, 2010
"Returning to the Arms of LOVE"
(Please read Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32 The Parable of the Lost Son)
Lectionary Lent 4-C
Oh. the Parable of the Lost (prodigal) Son. How we do love this parable. Perhaps we first heard of this in the Sunday school classes of our childhood. Throughout our lives, sermons have been preached on this teaching. Many of us have read books based on these very words of Jesus and we've gazed at paintings depicting the story. It seems like the spotlight always falls on a dirty, weary, philandering and squandering son collapsing into the arms of a loving father who has dreamed about and waited for this very moment. Always, it seems that the older brother is pictured off in the darkness, in the shadows, staring at his unclean, sinner-of-a-brother returning to the arms of LOVE.
There was a moment, as I first opened the doors to the Chapel of the Prodigal in the beautiful, small mountain town of Montreat, North Carolina, when I heard whispers of this parable that changed my thoughts of it all. There is no where to look in this chapel other than toward the altar wall for it is covered with a fresco depicting the return of the prodigal son to his father. The permanency of the art of fresco itself whispers "Look this way. This is a forever thing." The pigments have become absorbed into the plaster. The fresco has become the wall. For as long as the wall of this chapel stands, the message of the Scriptures embedded in the plaster will forever be seen.
There is a "forever and always" longing and love by a parent for the return of the wayward child. Or at least that is what I saw in the fresco. The father had watched for his child with the eyes of love. He watched for him with such intensity that he saw his beloved son while he was still a long way off. As the artist depicted by painting a robe thrown over the railing of the rooftop, this father was so filled with compassion and joy at the first glimpse of his child returning to him that he ran toward him, leaving his robe behind. Running, baring his ankles, welcoming one who had brought shame to his family. Certainly this was not to be done by any man of respect and honor. But it isn't about the wayward son is it? It's about a forever kind of love. In the silence of the chapel, one might hear God whisper, "I have seen who you were before you turned to me and I have loved you in my waiting. I have seen you look my way and my heart leaps for joy. From far away, I will see you take your first steps back to me and I will run to you. Before you take a breath to utter your well-rehearsed confessions, I will grab you in tight hugs and call for a celebration. You see, I have a love for you that is a forever love."
Oh, have I forgotten the older brother, standing off to the side in the shadows? I wish I could be the middle child in this parable. I've had a life-time of practice at that! I want to say to this older brother of the parable, "You are forgetting, aren't you? You are forgetting what it was like when you too collapsed into the waiting and loving arms of God. You are forgetting. You are forgetting what it was like when you were fitted with God's holy ring of inheritance. You are forgetting. You are forgetting when your weary and once-cold heart was first warmed by the robe of God's love. You are forgetting that God called for a celebration like none other when you came back home. Don't you see, dear brother? You are equally loved.
Yes, Jesus was speaking to the Pharisees and the teachers of the law when sharing this parable. And yes, some of these very same people would stir up the crowds and whisper the words "crucify him" into the ears of the soon-to-be gathered masses. But Jesus is also speaking to us as we continue on our Lenten journey. To both the younger and older brothers (or sisters), and yes, to the middle children as well, Jesus says, "You are loved equally, completely, fully. Return to the arms of LOVE."
O God . We rehearse our words too well, walking back to you, thinking that the words we have put together will make you love us more. But you wait for us, look on the horizon for us, hope for us and love us in spite of who we are. Soon, we will be reminded once more that you have lifted us up from our own dirt and dust and cleansed us. You have left this parable with an open ending, haven't you? Forgive us when we step back into the shadows and fail to welcome others home as you have welcomed them (and us). Forgive us for hearts that would rather attempt to weigh your love than celebrate your love. This day, as your children, remind us that we are indeed your beloved children welcomed into the arms of your great LOVE. Amen.
anna
Lectionary Lent 4-C
Oh. the Parable of the Lost (prodigal) Son. How we do love this parable. Perhaps we first heard of this in the Sunday school classes of our childhood. Throughout our lives, sermons have been preached on this teaching. Many of us have read books based on these very words of Jesus and we've gazed at paintings depicting the story. It seems like the spotlight always falls on a dirty, weary, philandering and squandering son collapsing into the arms of a loving father who has dreamed about and waited for this very moment. Always, it seems that the older brother is pictured off in the darkness, in the shadows, staring at his unclean, sinner-of-a-brother returning to the arms of LOVE.
There was a moment, as I first opened the doors to the Chapel of the Prodigal in the beautiful, small mountain town of Montreat, North Carolina, when I heard whispers of this parable that changed my thoughts of it all. There is no where to look in this chapel other than toward the altar wall for it is covered with a fresco depicting the return of the prodigal son to his father. The permanency of the art of fresco itself whispers "Look this way. This is a forever thing." The pigments have become absorbed into the plaster. The fresco has become the wall. For as long as the wall of this chapel stands, the message of the Scriptures embedded in the plaster will forever be seen.
There is a "forever and always" longing and love by a parent for the return of the wayward child. Or at least that is what I saw in the fresco. The father had watched for his child with the eyes of love. He watched for him with such intensity that he saw his beloved son while he was still a long way off. As the artist depicted by painting a robe thrown over the railing of the rooftop, this father was so filled with compassion and joy at the first glimpse of his child returning to him that he ran toward him, leaving his robe behind. Running, baring his ankles, welcoming one who had brought shame to his family. Certainly this was not to be done by any man of respect and honor. But it isn't about the wayward son is it? It's about a forever kind of love. In the silence of the chapel, one might hear God whisper, "I have seen who you were before you turned to me and I have loved you in my waiting. I have seen you look my way and my heart leaps for joy. From far away, I will see you take your first steps back to me and I will run to you. Before you take a breath to utter your well-rehearsed confessions, I will grab you in tight hugs and call for a celebration. You see, I have a love for you that is a forever love."
Oh, have I forgotten the older brother, standing off to the side in the shadows? I wish I could be the middle child in this parable. I've had a life-time of practice at that! I want to say to this older brother of the parable, "You are forgetting, aren't you? You are forgetting what it was like when you too collapsed into the waiting and loving arms of God. You are forgetting. You are forgetting what it was like when you were fitted with God's holy ring of inheritance. You are forgetting. You are forgetting when your weary and once-cold heart was first warmed by the robe of God's love. You are forgetting that God called for a celebration like none other when you came back home. Don't you see, dear brother? You are equally loved.
Yes, Jesus was speaking to the Pharisees and the teachers of the law when sharing this parable. And yes, some of these very same people would stir up the crowds and whisper the words "crucify him" into the ears of the soon-to-be gathered masses. But Jesus is also speaking to us as we continue on our Lenten journey. To both the younger and older brothers (or sisters), and yes, to the middle children as well, Jesus says, "You are loved equally, completely, fully. Return to the arms of LOVE."
O God . We rehearse our words too well, walking back to you, thinking that the words we have put together will make you love us more. But you wait for us, look on the horizon for us, hope for us and love us in spite of who we are. Soon, we will be reminded once more that you have lifted us up from our own dirt and dust and cleansed us. You have left this parable with an open ending, haven't you? Forgive us when we step back into the shadows and fail to welcome others home as you have welcomed them (and us). Forgive us for hearts that would rather attempt to weigh your love than celebrate your love. This day, as your children, remind us that we are indeed your beloved children welcomed into the arms of your great LOVE. Amen.
anna
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
"Wake Up! Wake Up!"
(Please read Isaiah 55:1-9)
Lectionary Lent 3-C
It wasn’t because I was struggling for thoughts yesterday that I didn’t write. There were thoughts and words but they were for others. There was a certainty in what was to be shared even in the uncertainty of who would receive and welcome the words. By the end of the evening, I knew some of the why’s. How do I explain that yesterday was an unexplainable Monday morning when the words "Wake up and pray" woke me up? Usually, God speaks to us through our quiet prayer and devotional times, in our worship, in our times of praise or in our moments of sorrow. But in our sleeping? At 1:30 a.m.? "Wake Up! Wake Up!" The request almost shook me awake. I was to wake up and pray. Why? I had no clue! Wake up and pray for what? And, if I didn’t know the "why’s", then WHY wake me up? What is the purpose in it all anyway?
What are we to do when God says, "Wake up and pray"? We are to pray. It’s as simple as that. My response wasn’t without questions, I’m afraid. "Gracious and loving God, why? Why would you have me up so early? So wide awake? For an hour, I have said words of ‘Sleep’ but your single word ‘Pray’ has kept me awake. And so I will pray, if that is the reason why. Why you woke me so abruptly. Why you placed names before me and yet left some unnamed. And so (yawn) I will pray, not knowing the why’s."
Too often, we find ourselves thrown into the same mix with the sleeping disciples. The time of Lent always calls this to our attention as we reread the accounts of the night of Jesus’ betrayal. Jesus says, "Stay here and keep watch", and we fall asleep. He says, "Are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour?" He comes back and finds us sleeping on the job again! And just as with Peter, James and John, we don’t really know what to say to Jesus. "Wake up and pray!" Just maybe the words that awakened me have already been said to the sleeping disciples. "Enough! Rise! Let us go!"
There is something mysteriously beautiful when God wakes us to pray for another. I’m not sure that the importance and sweetness of that moment is to be found in the words of the prayer itself. "Wake up. Wake up and pray", in essence, is God moving us from self-centered prayers to loving others as Jesus loves. God is asking us to place our hearts on the line for another. God nudges us, even shakes us and says, "Wake up and be an encourager today. Wake up and undergird your pastors in prayer. Wake up and pray fervently for your church. Wake up and pray for one who is broken and angry and struggling. There is no need to know the why’s. Just be faithful. Wake Up! Wake up and be faithful!" And maybe, just maybe you will hear something else. "You have done as I have asked. Now rest assured that I have always known the names and needs of my children."
Holy God … You have reminded us over and over again that your thoughts are not ours; neither are your ways our ways. Early morning wake-up calls to pray are certainly not our ways! But you have your purpose, don't you? There are those known only to you who are in need of such early morning prayers. As we yawn and wipe our eyes, awaken our hearts to faithfulness. Awaken our hearts to response. Awaken our hearts to hear your wake-up calls. Thank you, O God, for loving us so much as to wake up others to pray for us when we ourselves struggle for words. Amen.
Lectionary Lent 3-C
It wasn’t because I was struggling for thoughts yesterday that I didn’t write. There were thoughts and words but they were for others. There was a certainty in what was to be shared even in the uncertainty of who would receive and welcome the words. By the end of the evening, I knew some of the why’s. How do I explain that yesterday was an unexplainable Monday morning when the words "Wake up and pray" woke me up? Usually, God speaks to us through our quiet prayer and devotional times, in our worship, in our times of praise or in our moments of sorrow. But in our sleeping? At 1:30 a.m.? "Wake Up! Wake Up!" The request almost shook me awake. I was to wake up and pray. Why? I had no clue! Wake up and pray for what? And, if I didn’t know the "why’s", then WHY wake me up? What is the purpose in it all anyway?
What are we to do when God says, "Wake up and pray"? We are to pray. It’s as simple as that. My response wasn’t without questions, I’m afraid. "Gracious and loving God, why? Why would you have me up so early? So wide awake? For an hour, I have said words of ‘Sleep’ but your single word ‘Pray’ has kept me awake. And so I will pray, if that is the reason why. Why you woke me so abruptly. Why you placed names before me and yet left some unnamed. And so (yawn) I will pray, not knowing the why’s."
Too often, we find ourselves thrown into the same mix with the sleeping disciples. The time of Lent always calls this to our attention as we reread the accounts of the night of Jesus’ betrayal. Jesus says, "Stay here and keep watch", and we fall asleep. He says, "Are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour?" He comes back and finds us sleeping on the job again! And just as with Peter, James and John, we don’t really know what to say to Jesus. "Wake up and pray!" Just maybe the words that awakened me have already been said to the sleeping disciples. "Enough! Rise! Let us go!"
There is something mysteriously beautiful when God wakes us to pray for another. I’m not sure that the importance and sweetness of that moment is to be found in the words of the prayer itself. "Wake up. Wake up and pray", in essence, is God moving us from self-centered prayers to loving others as Jesus loves. God is asking us to place our hearts on the line for another. God nudges us, even shakes us and says, "Wake up and be an encourager today. Wake up and undergird your pastors in prayer. Wake up and pray fervently for your church. Wake up and pray for one who is broken and angry and struggling. There is no need to know the why’s. Just be faithful. Wake Up! Wake up and be faithful!" And maybe, just maybe you will hear something else. "You have done as I have asked. Now rest assured that I have always known the names and needs of my children."
Holy God … You have reminded us over and over again that your thoughts are not ours; neither are your ways our ways. Early morning wake-up calls to pray are certainly not our ways! But you have your purpose, don't you? There are those known only to you who are in need of such early morning prayers. As we yawn and wipe our eyes, awaken our hearts to faithfulness. Awaken our hearts to response. Awaken our hearts to hear your wake-up calls. Thank you, O God, for loving us so much as to wake up others to pray for us when we ourselves struggle for words. Amen.
anna
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