Psalm 56
Mark 14: 12-72
"Miserere"
Today is what many Christians refer to as Maundy Thursday. The day we remember the last Passover meal that Jesus shared with his disciples before he was arrested. The day began with the disciples following Jesus' instructions to find a place in which to share the meal and it ends with the tears of Peter after he denies Jesus three times. This day draws our attention to the invitation that Jesus made through the sacred Passover meal, how he broke bread and shared the cup and extended it to his closest friends; even those who would turn their backs on him in very painful ways. We also remember the prayer that Jesus prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane - how grief-stricken and scared he was (as it is recorded in Mark's Gospel), and how the disciples just couldn't stay awake to sit with him in this moment. Today is also where the story becomes violent and fast-paced.
"Maundy" comes from the Latin word mandatum, meaning "command" or "commandment" - and depicts the new commandment Jesus makes with his disciples at the last meal (as recorded in the Gospel of John) to love one another.
The Psalmist's words in Psalm 56 guide my prayer today.
_____________________
Be gracious to me, O God, I don't know what to say. My eyes are heavy. I would rather sleep.
Ignore.
Skip over this part of your story.
Be gracious to me, O God. The week is moving too fast. The drama is unfolding. I am panting to catch up. But perhaps I could just stay behind, where I normally like to be, in the comfort of safety and status quo.
Tonight, all over the world, people will gather around a table. We will all ask you to be gracious to us. For we think we would have been different. We are certain we would have stayed through the confusion until the bitter end. Surely we would have understood.
Be gracious to us, God, when we glance over the hard stuff assuming we are more faithful than another.
When the table is set - the wine poured and the bread broken - when people of all walks of life are gathered round….be gracious to us.
For still, we wish to have the final say. We just can't handle your mercy, your grace, your humility, given for all.
O God, be gracious to me. When the sun sets and the night brings a chill. When I don't know what to say. You tell me to "keep awake" and my eyes are heavy.
O God, be gracious to me. If I weep because I just cannot handle the pressure of knowing you. When the moment comes. When the question is asked. Will I know what to say?
Watch. Wait. Listen. Pray.
Be gracious to us, O God.
Amen.
Showing posts with label holy week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label holy week. Show all posts
Thursday, April 2, 2015
Wednesday, April 1, 2015
Writing to God: Wednesday of Holy Week
John 11: 1-44
"John 11:35"
A quick note about today: My prayer prompt comes from the story in John of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. A range of emotion fills this story.
Though today is Wednesday of Holy Week, and according to the Gospel of Mark, on this day Jesus is at Bethany with his friends; at the home of Simon the leper. Interesting this unintentional common point between the two readings for today - different homes, different stories - same place (Bethany) and common thread of the anointing of oil in preparation for Jesus' burial. John 11: 1-44 mentions it and says that it is Mary, sister of Lazarus who anointed Jesus. Mark's account credits this act of extravagant love to a woman whose name we do not know. And he tells his disciples that, because of this, she will be remembered forever.
___________
God, how many times did Jesus weep for Jerusalem? For his beloved city and beloved people? For the ways that power and wealth was abusing and ruling the poor and the common? For the way so many were desperately trying to remain faithful while others were giving up and giving in. How strikingly similar his world is to ours. How many times does he weep?
God, what did the laughter of our Savior sound like? Was it high-pitched and sharp or a deep chuckle that rolled up and out from his belly? Did he laugh and make snide remarks about the absurdity of all he saw? Of all that was taking place?
When his closest friends denied, or betrayed, or died, how many times did Jesus laugh at the memories and weep in sorrow for his loss?
He showed us how to love. And we forget or refuse to laugh out loud at the joy of life; the gifts that cost nothing but our time, our energy, our care.
He showed us how to love. And we seldom weep for the state of the world we love. For our Jerusalem - whatever it might be.
Because, (we've been told, or we tell ourselves) to cry is to show weakness. To cry is to be vulnerable and we should never be vulnerable. To cry is to lose control of the situation.
And Jesus wept for his dear friend.
Lord, forgive us. Father, have mercy. Lord forgive us all.
Amen.
"John 11:35"
A quick note about today: My prayer prompt comes from the story in John of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. A range of emotion fills this story.
Though today is Wednesday of Holy Week, and according to the Gospel of Mark, on this day Jesus is at Bethany with his friends; at the home of Simon the leper. Interesting this unintentional common point between the two readings for today - different homes, different stories - same place (Bethany) and common thread of the anointing of oil in preparation for Jesus' burial. John 11: 1-44 mentions it and says that it is Mary, sister of Lazarus who anointed Jesus. Mark's account credits this act of extravagant love to a woman whose name we do not know. And he tells his disciples that, because of this, she will be remembered forever.
___________
God, how many times did Jesus weep for Jerusalem? For his beloved city and beloved people? For the ways that power and wealth was abusing and ruling the poor and the common? For the way so many were desperately trying to remain faithful while others were giving up and giving in. How strikingly similar his world is to ours. How many times does he weep?
God, what did the laughter of our Savior sound like? Was it high-pitched and sharp or a deep chuckle that rolled up and out from his belly? Did he laugh and make snide remarks about the absurdity of all he saw? Of all that was taking place?
When his closest friends denied, or betrayed, or died, how many times did Jesus laugh at the memories and weep in sorrow for his loss?
He showed us how to love. And we forget or refuse to laugh out loud at the joy of life; the gifts that cost nothing but our time, our energy, our care.
He showed us how to love. And we seldom weep for the state of the world we love. For our Jerusalem - whatever it might be.
Because, (we've been told, or we tell ourselves) to cry is to show weakness. To cry is to be vulnerable and we should never be vulnerable. To cry is to lose control of the situation.
And Jesus wept for his dear friend.
Lord, forgive us. Father, have mercy. Lord forgive us all.
Amen.
Tuesday, March 31, 2015
Writing to God: Tuesday of Holy Week
Jeremiah 31: 2-13
Enlightenment
Jeremiah is a poem of the joyful future return from exile for the people of Israel. It is a celebration of the hoped-for journey home - a journey that remembers its brokenness but literally dances in God's delivering presence and love through it all. The people, it says, "found grace in the wilderness."
In the Gospel of Mark, Tuesday of the last week of Jesus' life begins at chapter 11 verse 20. It continues until 14:1. Tuesday is full of action, sayings, and teachings of Jesus - including the Greatest Commandment, predictions of the temple destruction, the lesson from the withered fig tree of Monday, and the widow's offering.
______________
What kinds of lessons do you have to teach us, God?
About love, and mercy, and kindness?
Are they lessons that lend us joy in our grief and a lightness in our daily step?
What kinds of lessons, God, do you have to teach us?
About humility, and patience, and trust?
Will they be lessons to help us in the waiting seasons, the times of change, our losses and failures?
God, what kinds of lessons do you have to teach us?
What about lessons of faith, of hardship, of perserverance?
For you knew what season it was, yesterday, when you went looking for fruit on that fig tree.
And, in the same kind of way, you know the skips and gallops, trips and falls that we take through this life. You know each and every one. (That could cause a person to be still before you.)
So we cannot help but ask: on this long and eventful Tuesday - what lessons do you have to teach us?
But wait. First we need to understand what it means to be watchful and how to listen - for only then will we be able to hear you.
Amen.
Enlightenment
Jeremiah is a poem of the joyful future return from exile for the people of Israel. It is a celebration of the hoped-for journey home - a journey that remembers its brokenness but literally dances in God's delivering presence and love through it all. The people, it says, "found grace in the wilderness."
In the Gospel of Mark, Tuesday of the last week of Jesus' life begins at chapter 11 verse 20. It continues until 14:1. Tuesday is full of action, sayings, and teachings of Jesus - including the Greatest Commandment, predictions of the temple destruction, the lesson from the withered fig tree of Monday, and the widow's offering.
______________
What kinds of lessons do you have to teach us, God?
About love, and mercy, and kindness?
Are they lessons that lend us joy in our grief and a lightness in our daily step?
What kinds of lessons, God, do you have to teach us?
About humility, and patience, and trust?
Will they be lessons to help us in the waiting seasons, the times of change, our losses and failures?
God, what kinds of lessons do you have to teach us?
What about lessons of faith, of hardship, of perserverance?
For you knew what season it was, yesterday, when you went looking for fruit on that fig tree.
And, in the same kind of way, you know the skips and gallops, trips and falls that we take through this life. You know each and every one. (That could cause a person to be still before you.)
So we cannot help but ask: on this long and eventful Tuesday - what lessons do you have to teach us?
But wait. First we need to understand what it means to be watchful and how to listen - for only then will we be able to hear you.
Amen.
Sunday, March 29, 2015
Writing to God: Palm Sunday
Mark 11
"Palms and Passion"
My Lenten discipline of Forty Days of Writing to God ends with special prompts for Holy Week. Today is Palm Sunday, the day we happily wave the palm branches in church and sing Hosanna. The day that Jesus "triumphantly" rode into Jerusalem on the back of a young donkey. Today we celebrate the victory Jesus is coming to bring - victory over worldly powers; victory over abusive rulers; victory over death. Today he is the crowd's Messiah. Too often we forget the power and the importance of the rest of the week. Some of us skip from here to Maundy Thursday; some to the cross; and if you're like me, after today I'd like to fast forward to next Sunday. But we will be missing out on a whole lot of what God is doing if we pick and choose the parts of our faith story to pay attention to. I hope you will journey and struggle with me this week as we carefully move through each day.
____________________________
Saving God, give me the courage to be wholly attentive to the movement of this week. Every intricate piece, each grimacing detail.
As the palms wave today, make my song light and free; hopeful and trusting. Surely something big is going to happen.
As the palms wave today, remind me of the coming of your kingdom. How the first shall be last. The lowly, the sick, the suffering.
As the palms wave today, I pray I wave them high for the injustices of the world that Jesus came to abolish. I pray I wave them for the forgiveness he showed us to accept and to extend. I pray I wave them for the respect and love he required of each follower to show to each and every living being.
Give me the courage God, to be wholly attentive as I sing Hosanna today, knowing that there is more to your story of salvation and grace than most of us like to acknowledge. It is more than a simple one-liner.
Give me the courage to watch closely as Jesus sets his gaze toward Jerusalem today, on the back of a humble colt, awkwardly carrying with him the weight of the world. And too often we think it is only about us.
Give me the courage to be wholly attentive to the significance of this day for us all.
Amen.
"Palms and Passion"
My Lenten discipline of Forty Days of Writing to God ends with special prompts for Holy Week. Today is Palm Sunday, the day we happily wave the palm branches in church and sing Hosanna. The day that Jesus "triumphantly" rode into Jerusalem on the back of a young donkey. Today we celebrate the victory Jesus is coming to bring - victory over worldly powers; victory over abusive rulers; victory over death. Today he is the crowd's Messiah. Too often we forget the power and the importance of the rest of the week. Some of us skip from here to Maundy Thursday; some to the cross; and if you're like me, after today I'd like to fast forward to next Sunday. But we will be missing out on a whole lot of what God is doing if we pick and choose the parts of our faith story to pay attention to. I hope you will journey and struggle with me this week as we carefully move through each day.
____________________________
Saving God, give me the courage to be wholly attentive to the movement of this week. Every intricate piece, each grimacing detail.
As the palms wave today, make my song light and free; hopeful and trusting. Surely something big is going to happen.
As the palms wave today, remind me of the coming of your kingdom. How the first shall be last. The lowly, the sick, the suffering.
As the palms wave today, I pray I wave them high for the injustices of the world that Jesus came to abolish. I pray I wave them for the forgiveness he showed us to accept and to extend. I pray I wave them for the respect and love he required of each follower to show to each and every living being.
Give me the courage God, to be wholly attentive as I sing Hosanna today, knowing that there is more to your story of salvation and grace than most of us like to acknowledge. It is more than a simple one-liner.
Give me the courage to watch closely as Jesus sets his gaze toward Jerusalem today, on the back of a humble colt, awkwardly carrying with him the weight of the world. And too often we think it is only about us.
Give me the courage to be wholly attentive to the significance of this day for us all.
Amen.
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