Looking back and Looking Around

 

Artwork by Brenda Robinson

As we wrap up and wind down the month of April, rewind and remember with me.  What was one moment this month when joy leapt in your heart?  What is one thanksgiving you can name right now from the last four weeks?  What is one moment you wish you had a mulligan or do over?  When did the ordinary seem holy?  This month, we leaned in, listened, and learned from the wisdom of Rev. Dr. Howard Thurman who had an epiphany of God’s presence under a tree in Florida.  We waved green palm branches and sang, “Hosanna”! ~ a heartfelt prayer for God to save us from brokenness.  We laid that brokenness and pain down at the foot of the cross.  We came to a tomb, from which God’s emphatic, “Yes” evoked our “Alleluias”.  Last Sunday, we celebrated our Creation Justice covenant on Earth Day Sunday.  The theologian, Joy Moore says that the God who donated dignity and divine DNA to dirt at creation does the same for death in the resurrection.  Re-read that great quote.  Dr. Moore is pointing toward the truth that Creation has been, is, and always will be God’s first testament and deepest truth.  On Easter we focused on the transformation of a butterfly as an image that can speak, sing, settle into our souls during the season of Easter.  We do this because butterflies teach and tell us that there is a struggle emerging from the chrysalis; transformation isn’t easy; and yet change can color our lives in beautiful ways. 

Where is your soul longing to emerge, unfurl, and shine forth in these days as we turn the calendar to May?  How is God, who blesses dirt with dignity and divinity blessing your life in new ways?  How can we continue to be an Easter-ing people, individually and collectively, in the coming weeks?

May the season of Easter continue to guide you and ground you as we seek to live the truth of this holy time of year.  Alleluia.  Alleluia.  Amen.   

Thursday Pause

 

You are invited this morning to push pause.  To hold your life lightly for the preciousness, fragility, and faithfulness that is contained therein.  I invite you to take a deep breath.

Breathe in Easter-ing ways of God surprising Earth with Heaven in the most peculiar ways…breathe out the internal demand that we have to comprehend, even control, everything.

Breathe in God’s light shining from an empty tomb…breathe out an understanding that there is nothing new under the sun.

Breathe in the word, “Alleluia”….breathe out the words that someone said that caused hurt or harm, a wound that won’t heal.

Breathe in slowly and deeply…breathe out letting your exhale be even longer.

Breathe in trusting in God…breathe out all the voices that want to fix or save or solve your problems.

Breathe in….breathe out.

Be still in this moment and feel God’s love.  Amen. 

Easter-ing way of life

 

God, let Your Easter light soak and saturate the ordinariness of my day.

Let Your love, grace, and wisdom guide me each step along the way.

I pause this morning to settle into Your Sacredness and start to pray.

Thank you for moments when I laugh, connect with friends, and play.

Thank you for Your voice that leads me back when I go astray.

Help me when the pain, prejudice, and power lure me to sway.

When I am tempted to walk through harmful or hateful doorways.

When I feel closed off, isolated or alone and life goes sideways.

I need You, O God, to help me not just on Sundays.

Enter my life to dispel the actions that delay or dismay.

God, You are the Source of life where my soul longs to stay.

So, we pause together, trusting that today will be okay.

What stirs within you this morning?

Where is there the struggle or stress of emerging from the chrysalis?  

Where do you need more time before a transition?

How is embracing and embodying Easter going in your life so far?

Prayer: God of every moment of each day, help me to stay close to You this day, I pray.  It can be easy to get lost amid the countless things calling me to obey.  I get lost, lonely, and resistant to Your way.  Yet, You persist in ways that warm my heart and soul.  May this morning meditation continue to guide me each hour this day.  Alleluia and Amen.  

Easter-ing as a way of Life

This week we are continuing to let the light of Easter show us the way and shine forth in our lives.  On Easter Sunday, I offered you the butterfly as an image of how Creation teaches and tells us a truth about life.  It is the struggle of a butterfly trying to emerge that gives strength.  If a butterfly emerges too easily or early, this part of God’s creation won’t be able to soar or fly.  Look back on your life, have you had a moment where the struggle to go a new way was helpful?

Are there ways you find yourself wanting to stay in the cocoon?

What is changing in your life since Easter?

What still needs time to be formed or is not ready to emerge quite yet?

 

The Spirit of being an Easter people means we continue to ask these questions.  Often the directions for where we long to go and who we long to be take time to be formed by the One who isn’t finished with us.

 

Some places I am longing to let God’s presence inform, influence, and impact my life:

In how I show up to be God’s love to my family;

In how I show up to be your pastor;

In ways I seek to participate prayerfully in our covenants of Creation Justice, Open and Affirming, and Racial Justice;

Practicing laughter’s healing art;

Slowing down to God’s savory pace;

To realize that God is not finished with me yet.

 

In what ways do you find the images and invitation of Easter lingering in your life?

 

Prayer: God, thank you for the ways You continue to weave Your presence into my life.  Let Your threads of promise and possibility color the fabric of my life in new ways.  Help me pay attention knowing and trusting that where my attention goes, there my energy flows.  Weaving God, enfold and embrace me this day and this week.  In the name of the One who knits us together to be the community of Christ here and now, Jesus our Savior.  Amen.

 

Easter-ing as a way of life

On Easter Sunday, you were invited to name and notice the chrysalis experiences in your life.  Building on the image of transformation and transitions; deepening our exploration of ways we are changing, not all cocoons are healthy or healing.  

Wait...re-read that last sentence.  Not all cocoons are healthy or healing ~ some cocoons transform us in unhelpful ways.

Sometimes we wrap ourselves in stories that are not helpful.  We can tell ourselves a story dripping and drenched with anger or anguish; we can tell stories where life is a constant battle and only the strong survive; we can tell ourselves stories where life is a zero-sum game ~ and you are either winning or losing.  Or, we can tell ourselves a story of abundance rather than scarcity.  We can tell ourselves a story of generosity that is generative.  The story God longs to author in our lives is that when we share love with another, we cannot control the outcome.  At the same time, we do have agency over how we show up and open up.  I can be like a bull in a china shop or a hammer that only sees everything or everyone as a nail.  I can force my way through life acting and speaking as if it is my way or a highway.

 

God shows us another script to live by during Holy Week.  God’s story of realizing and recognizing our, “Hosanna” prayers for saving from brokenness toward healing.  God’s narrative of a table where all are welcome.  God’s narrative that embraces the vulnerability of a cross and an emphatic, “Yes” to life on Easter Sunday.

 

What is still resonating or reverberating from two weeks ago about transitions in your life?

Are you still praying, Hosanna, save me from bitterness/brokenness and save me toward a way that trusts and lives the good news?

Are you still coming to the table seeking to live how God delights in diversity?

Are you still laying down the fears, frustrations, hurts, wounds, and pain at the cross of Jesus letting the vulnerability of God meet you?

Are the helpful ways you are cocooning yourself in transformation?  Are there unhelpful or unhealthy ways you are wrapping yourself in negativity or frustration or fear?

Are you open to how the struggle lets loose vivid colors for your wings to unfurl and fly?

Are there moments of resurrection and renewal?

 

Easter is more than a day, it is a way of life.  Easter is a way of moving with holy anticipation that God still surprises Earth with Heaven every day; even when we go to a tomb expecting that there is nothing to see there, God shows up in ways that can baffle and bewilder us.

 

Where has that been truth last week, since Easter, for you?

 

May you and I continue to ponder prayerfully God who is transforming and meeting us here and now.

 

Prayer: God of moments when we cocoon ourselves with that which does not offer life, help release us and renew us.  From practices that hurt and harm, help us.  From words that wound, heal us.  From ways of being that cling to Your love as a finite resource only for us and people like us, challenge us.  Save us toward a way of generosity, trusting that as we live Your Easter-ing way, so Easter becomes our story every day.  In the name of the One who shows us how the tomb becomes a womb, Jesus the Christ.  Amen.   

 

Earth Day Meditation

 

On Tuesday, we named and noticed how Creation has a starring role on Easter Sunday.  From the darkness, light, stone rolled away, and the reference to Jesus as, “the gardener,” all remind us that Resurrection and renewal is part of the world around us and within us.  You are made up of the same substance as soil beneath your toes and stars above your heads.  More than that, there are the same number of atoms in the world today as when dinosaurs roamed the earth.  Inside you could be atoms recycled, renewed, and re-created from DaVinci and Toni Morrison.  Creation teaches and tells us about resurrection.  Growing up I would watch trees in Iowa let loose leaves in the fall and bare tree limbs in the winter and then in the spring sprout green leaves of new life.  In this one example is an image of resurrection. The Psalmist knew this when s/he wrote, “The heavens are telling the glory of God; and the firmament proclaims God’s handiwork. Day to day pours forth speech, and night to night declares knowledge.  There is no speech, nor are there words; their voice is not heard; yet their voice goes out through all the earth, and their words to the end of the world.”  When we listen to creation, we listen to the Voice of God.  Out in Creation we witness the marvels and mysteries of the Divine.  There are moments out in the wilderness we are reminded that we are connected to the Creator of all that is.  On this Earth Day, I pray you will take time to be out in Creation.  I pray you will walk in the beauty of God’s good earth, you will listen to birds singing, feel the wind, and realize that Creation is your brother and sister…you are intertwined and intertangled with what is below, beside, and beyond you.  Our church encourages you to find new ways to live your relationship with Creation.  You are encouraged in get involved in causes that help restore and replenish Creation.  You are invited to participate in efforts that lessen your carbon footprint and work toward changes that respond to the ways Earth is groaning under our demands.  You are always welcome to participate in our Green Team efforts and on Sunday, April 24, Rev. Dr. Sarah Melcher will preach and lead our Earth Day services at 9 (outside at the Oasis Center) and 11 am in the sanctuary and livestreamed.  May this Earth Day remind us that Easter calls us to care for all the world that God so loves.  Amen.

Morning Meditation

 

Another insightful author of living in right and holy relationship with Creation is John O’Donohue.  His book Walking in Wonder is a wonderful resource for nourishment, replenishment, and remembering our connection to Creation.  Here is one of his poem/prayers:

 

Nearer to the earth's heart,

Deeper within its silence:

Animals know this world

In a way we never will.

Stranded between time

Gone and time emerging,

We manage seldom

To be where we are:

Whereas they are always

Looking out from

The here and now.

May we learn to return

And rest in the beauty

Of animal being,

Learn to lean low,

Leave our locked minds,

And with freed senses

Feel the earth

Breathing with us.

May we learn to walk

Upon the earth

With all their confidence

And clear-eyed stillness

So that our minds

Might be baptized

In the name of the wind

And the light and the rain. 

Morning Meditation

 

Jesus lived his life outside.  He preached from the boat and taught on a mountain.  As he walked around, he saw lilies of the field as a sermon illustration.  He saw the sacred within all he encountered. Saint Francis picked up on this and continued to show us how Creation testifies to God’s holy ways.  Today, as we prepare for Earth Day on Friday, here is St. Francis’ Canticle of Creation.  Please read slowly, prayerfully, and aloud, letting these words awake your sacred imagination of how we are caught in a web of life with Brother Sun and Sister Moon, with all of life:

 

The Canticle of Creation (by Saint Francis of Assisi)

O Most High, all-powerful, good Lord God,
to you belong praise, glory,
honor and all blessing.
Be praised, my Lord, for all your creation
and especially for our Brother Sun,
who brings us the day and the light;
he is strong and shines magnificently.
O Lord, we think of you when we look at him.
Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Moon,
and for the stars
which you have set shining and lovely
in the heavens.
Be praised, my Lord,
for our Brothers Wind and Air
and every kind of weather
by which you, Lord,
uphold life in all your creatures.
Be praised, my Lord, for Sister Water,
who is very useful to us,
and humble and precious and pure.
Be praised, my Lord, for Brother Fire,
through whom you give us light in the darkness:
he is bright and lively and strong.
Be praised, my Lord,
for Sister Earth, our Mother,
who nourishes us and sustains us,
bringing forth
fruits and vegetables of many kinds
and flowers of many colors.
Be praised, my Lord,
for those who forgive for love of you;
and for those
who bear sickness and weakness
in peace and patience
- you will grant them a crown.
Be praised, my Lord, for our Sister Death,
whom we must all face.
I praise and bless you, Lord,
and I give thanks to you,
and I will serve you in all humility.

Easter Monday

 

On Easter Sunday, God’s first testament of Creation joined in witnessing to the power, promise, and possibility of Resurrection.  We heard this both through the metaphor of a butterfly and how Mary encounters the risen Christ in the garden.  The gospel of John’s Easter narrative echoes Genesis.  John did this in the beginning too.  In John’s poem/prayer of chapter 1.  John starts his gospel with a riff on the Genesis Creation narrative with the same three words of the first book of the bible, “In the beginning…”.  Then, John sets out in another direction by saying, “Was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.”  Throughout John’s gospel, Creation has a starring role.  Night and light are important metaphors.  Nicodemus comes at night and doesn’t get what Jesus is saying.  The Beloved Woman at the Well comes at noon and is the first disciple turned apostle to share the Good News.  Judas tips over his chair, leaves the room after Jesus washed his feet with his mind chattering chaotically away at night.  Jesus is arrested at night.  Peter denies knowing Jesus at night.  Mary, initially, goes to the tomb before the first light when it was still dark out.  She goes outside where the cool night wind can be felt on her face and perhaps causes her to tremble or shutter and wrap her cloak tighter around her.  She goes to the tomb, a cave catacomb with a stone sealed in front.  Creation plays a staring role here.  She sees the tomb empty, goes, and tells the disciples, as they all race and run back, Mary lingers.  Mary tarries.  Mary stays trying to process all that is happening just as the sun is rising.  Creation is playing a starring role here.  In the garden where the morning dew glistens with the first, sometimes blinding rays of sun, Mary weeps.  She supposes Jesus to be the gardener, just as Adam and Eve were the first gardeners.  Still today, Jesus wants to tend the garden of our souls and our whole lives in this season of Easter.  “Don’t hold onto me,” Jesus says.  Just as I cannot capture the wind; just as I cannot control the weather; just as I cannot cling to many things but am called to be caught up in the rhythm of creation, Easter and Creation are in cahoots to show us the way to life. 

This Easter week pay attention prayerfully to creation.  Let us be honest about how the world continues to groan under the demands we have for more.  Let us grief a culture that “throws away” and where we are unsure how we can live differently – and because of that too often don’t try new ways of living in harmony with Creation.  Let us recommit to the fullness of John 3:16, “For God so loved the world.”  Not just humanity.  Not just First Congregational UCC.  Not just me or you as isolated individuals.  The world!  From ants and atoms to stars twinkling to every living being in-between, all reflect God’s image.  May this truth of Easter guide us as we prepare to celebrate Earth Day and our church’s Covenant to be the stewards of creation.  I pray every day this week you and I will see our connection to the earth part of the Easter mystery we are called to live. 

Prayer: Help me, O God, live in harmony with the world around me.  Help me see that all the earth, every being, is caught in a web of inter-connectivity.  Help me love all that is seen and unseen in new Easter-ing ways every day.  Amen.  

Easter Monday

 

Artwork by Brenda Robinson, click here to view more of her beautiful art

Let the Easter light of promise and possibility shine bright on our lives and world today.

Let God’s emphatic, “Yes” to life find a home in your heart to stay.

Let today be different, distinctive, and overflowing with holy play.

While brokenness and hurt remain, those truths don’t have the final say.

New life is planted in the soil of your soul on this holy Monday.

What is growing with silent hopefulness, where is the first sunlight ray?

What awakens within you curiosity and courage to go down a new pathway?

A way where point scoring, winning, and bank account balances don’t hold the same sway.

One where we seek to let God’s presence pick up the pen to author our life’s essay.

Yesterday our “Alleluias” filled our hearts, homes, and set us down a grace-filled highway.

Today, we are asked to live our lives as Easter people with God’s love as our headway.

So join me as we continue to let Easter resonate and reside and resound and relay,

Life can be found in the most unlikely places of a tomb we expected grief’s gray gloom.

Yet, there, like at the manger, God surprises Earth with Heaven in brand new ways.

We are asked today, standing in the wilderness of life, two paths diverge, we are at a crossway.

One says, “Go back to normal, nothing to see here, take the known, familiar walkways.”

But the other path joyfully beckons that you to live each day as Easter, the Lord’s Day.

I pray on this Easter Monday we might leave behind the ruts and break away.

To see grace, light, hope, peace, joy, and love for the promise and possibility they convey.

May these words stir your soul to find a way of being, living that isn’t cliché.

And fill you with wisdom, enthusiasm, and alleluias that continue to lead the Easter way.

 

May you and I continue to practice resurrection and live the truth that God’s story is at work in our lives this week.  Alleluia and Amen.

God's Friday

 

“Were you there?” the Spiritual asks on this day.

Was I there when Jesus died?  Not literally.

Was I there when his friends all left skid marks in the sand running away?

Was I there when the powers of the day flexed their muscles to keep everyone in line?

Was I there when people criticized and mock, “He saved others, let him safe himself?”

Was I there when only a few friends kept vigil at the cross?

Was I there when he breathed his last?

Was I there when the tears wouldn’t stop?

Was I there when life no longer seemed the same and the hole in their hearts might never heal?

Not literally.

But I was there when people pull down others to make themselves look better.

I was there when friends no longer call or stop by.

I was there as leaders today still let cash and privilege guide their decisions.

I was there when social media trolls anonymously comment, and we seem caught up in counting how many “likes” we can amass.

I was there when people I love lay in a hospice bed.

I was there when grief hangs heavy in the air.

I was there in a world that keeps on spinning dizzily and disjointedly and disorient-ly around.

I was there and I will be there today before the cross to sing. 

To pray. 

To be honest about my own pain that I pass along, my silence to injustice, my own wondering about financial stability and questioning how others judge my ability and whether I truly live faithfully.

I bring all that am I to cross, because only a suffering God, a vulnerable God, a loving God can meet me in the vulnerability and suffering and struggle this moment. 

As we sing prayerfully, “Were you there?” may you and I draw near with open hearts to respond, “Here I am God.”  Amen.

Holy Thursday

 

Today we push pause and prepare our hearts to come to Christ’s table tonight for Maundy Thursday.  

We breathe in God’s grace found in broken bread…and breathe out the hurts and harms that too often define and confine us.

We breathe in God’s sweet love tasted in juice…and breathe out all the “earning” and “deserving” and “proving” we often think we must do.

We breathe in a peace as we linger at the table…and breathe out our desire to control the guest list of who is invited or welcomed.

We breathe in Jesus’ prayer in the garden…and breathe out the bitter cups we sip from in life.

We breathe in Jesus’ non-violence as guards seize him…and breathe out the weapons of words and invisible scoreboards we carry around.

We breathe in the loneliness of Jesus in a prison cell, waiting…and breathe out the loneliness, fear, and frustration we carry in the cells of our hearts.

We breathe in Peter sidestepping knowing Jesus…and breathe out our own moments of standing silently on the sidelines.

We breathe in a sacred story that begins to crescendo that is big and bold enough to include a cross…and breathe out a script of life that define us narrowly.

Dear God, let this Holy Week enter our hearts with an unceasing grace and unconditional love that meets us in the bruises and brokenness of our lives.  Help us taste Your presence, sense Your healing, and be vulnerably honest that like the first disciples we still desert, deny, and betray.  Strengthen our faith, shore up our souls, and set our imaginations to hearing Your truth for us today.  Amen.

What "Maundy" Means

 

Maundy means commandment.

Not a finger waging or pointing or pontificating or preaching kinda commandment.

Not a heavy, drenched with guilt or dripping with shame commandment.

Rather, Jesus’s commandment is an invitation of inspiration to be love.

“No greater love have you than this, than to lay down, (or we could say put aside your agenda and needs, release and let go of your five-year life plan) for the sake of a friend.”

To lay down so that you are no longer white knuckling, tightly clinging to control.

Set down so that you might receive.

As you unclench your fist, you are offered a piece of bread and cup of juice.

As we receive, these are the words that fall from our lips, “What wonderous is this?”  We pause to realize that Christ didn’t just come to re-arrange the mental furniture in our minds or found a church or even just hang out on earth to see what it was like.  Christ came, Christ still comes, Christ returns to show us life.

Full and abundant life.

Overflowing and open life.

Life with broken bread that leave crumbs on the table.

Life with juice that spills and stains the cloth.

Life with twist and turns causing heartbreak and soul ache.

Life is holy, because the Sacred is found in a commandment of love given freely.

Life is holy because the Sacred sets aside power for a cross.

Life is holy because the Sacred stares openly at death.

There are countless invitations to follow another narrative that is not based on might or winning or controlling or cynicism and criticism or the balance in your bank account.

Christ commandment to love edits the story we tell ourselves in ways that offer us life.  So we prepare for tomorrow to let God author and edit our lives by meeting us in such a time as this.  Amen.

A Pondering for Tuesday

 

Tuesday comes, as often it does, with demands, decrees, things to do, and places to go.

As we nibble on a small corner of the chocolate Easter bunny’s ear, unable to wait until Sunday,

We wonder, what is this week really about?

What does a bite of bread and a grape really teach us about grace on Thursday?

When ordinary, everyday, just like the loaf in our cupboard and the juice in our fridge, becomes sacred.

On Tuesday, we question whether we really need to go to church two more times before Sunday.

After all, we hypothesize and rationalize, we know the story.

A Last Supper is celebrated.

Jesus’s “friends” desert…deny…and betray.

Arrested in a garden, led away to his death.

Alone.  Afraid.  Misunderstood. 

Hung on a cross as his mother, Mary, bravely watches.

It seems too much in this weary, worn-out world.

If we want pain, we can turn on the news or talk to that family member who hides knifes in words.

We snap off the other ear of the chocolate Easter bunny, lost in thought.

Why this rollercoaster of a week?  Can’t we just fast-forward?  Why not jump from “Hosannas” to “Alleluias”?

The clock chimes reminding us of the to do list.  The questions unanswered recede into the recesses of our minds.  The questions slowly take their place on the shelves of our souls.

Perhaps we never fully “get” Holy Week, but we know that in the midst of hopeful “Hosannas”, broken bread and juice given gracefully and lovingly in the face of pain, death, silence, and life there is a truth our lives need to hear especially here and now. 

So we go to the closet to find something to wear to church on Thursday.

A Poem/Prayer for Hosanna Monday

 

Yesterday, we welcomed Christ with the prayerful plea of, "Hosanna" ~ which means save us, because we cannot always save ourselves. Hosanna is both liberation from oppression and liberation toward God's grace embodied in us. I long to be saved from anxiety, anger, brokenness...save toward God authoring my life in new ways. Here is a poem/prayer to keep singing and praying our Hosannas on this Monday of Holy Week:

When the loud cries & prayers of “Hosannas” start to fade,

We put down the palm branches, they no longer sway,

We notice the creeping return of cynicism and jade,

Our minds shift from grace to whether others make the grade.

I long to stay with Hosannas, stand on the road where palms lay.

I linger amid the clutter of leaf blades and hasty Hosannas prayed.

What was yesterday, I wonder, was it just some rehearsed play?

Do the Hosannas still linger in people’s hearts or offer any aid?

Was this just some thing we did like a concocted charade?

Or was there something more intimate in your Hosanna that has stayed?

Is there place or person or moment where God’s grace might wade?

Or do we just start looking toward Easter, avoiding where we’re afraid?

This week unfolds with Jesus being deserted, alone, and even betrayed.

This week whispers grace as Christ is arrested, dismayed, and degraded.

This week asks you to fling open your heart for God’s love to persuade.

On Monday, the Hosannas may start to evaporate or even sound cliché.

But to pause and hold the holy prayer for God to enter in and stay.

May your soul feel it’s full worth and ride on with Jesus into the Way.

Preparing for Holy Week

 

On Sunday we begin our holiest week of the year.  We enter a narrative that is a story as old as time and a song as old as rhyme.  From moments of joyful prayers of “Hosanna”, to intimate breaking of bread and sharing a cup, to kneeling beneath the cross, to the silence of Saturday, and to an Easter morning where hope and love leap forth from a tomb.  This story is our story.  Moments of welcoming God into my life joyfully like on Palm Sunday.  Moments when I gather with those I love the most at a meal and feel connected like on Maundy Thursday.  Moments of heartbreak and soul ache, especially when I realize my own brokenness and mistakes and missteps at the cross ~ nor does violence save us either.  To moments of stillness when hope is not even on the horizon.  To the serendipitous ways of the Sacred that beautifully baffles me like on Easter Sunday.  This is your story too.

Where has your heart been filled with joy recently?

When has a meal connected you to someone in a new way?

When have you felt the grief of loss and the weariness of the world?

When have you been speechless?

When have you felt your Spirit leap with Easter love?

 

Your experiences and encounters of living Holy Week are a prayer to God.  Bring your prayers and whole life to worship this Sunday as we welcome the One who rides on, rides on in majesty in our hearts and shows us the way of life in such a time as this.  Hosanna.  Amen. 

Thursday Pause

 

Today we push pause together.  We sit holding our lives lightly with each other.  I invite you to take a deep breath.

Breathe in God’s surprising ways of Palm Sunday parades, broken bread and juice, vulnerability on the cross and new life on Easter…breathe out scripts in our life that want us to demand and defend and double down concerned only with our own individual happiness.

Breathe in the good news of the slow ripening of our souls…breathe out the microwaving and McDonaldization of our world.

Breathe in the word, “Hosanna”…breathe out the narrative that it is all up to you.

Breathe in slowly and deeply…breathe out letting your exhale be even longer.

Breathe in trusting in God…breathe out all the voices that want to fix or save or solve your problems.

Breathe in….breathe out.

Be still in this moment and feel God’s love.  Amen. 

Preparing for Palm Sunday ~ Part three

 

“...new life starts in the dark. Whether it is a seed in the ground, a baby in the womb, or Jesus in the tomb, it starts in the dark.” ― Barbara Brown Taylor, Learning to Walk in the Dark

 

New life in a tomb, that is where we are heading on Easter Sunday.  Just like at Christmas where God enters the world in the form of a vulnerable infant, born in a barn and laid in a manger; God still surprises Earth with Heaven on Easter Sunday by rolling away a stone and springing forth from the very place thought to have no life at all.

 

God of mystery and marvel.

God who cannot be contained or controlled or ever fully comprehended.

God who is still creating amid the midnight moments in our lives.

God who hears our, “Hosannas”.

 

Often, we turn God into a vending machine or a combination of a Superhero with Black Panther’s power and Storm’s ability to control the weather. (Apologies to any non-comic book fans out there).  We want God to swoop in and save the day.  Yet, God’s time has never been according to human time.  In story after story in Scripture, suffering was never eliminated instantaneously or immediately. 

Abraham and Sarah waited 25 years before Isaac is born.

God sent Moses with liberating love who must return to Pharoah time and time again.

The people wandered for 40 years in the wilderness before tasting the sweet honey and thirst-quenching milk.

The people were exile for 70 years before Isaiah’s vision of mountains brought low and rough places smoothed out to return to Jerusalem.

 

We are so caught up in fast-food, always on the go, keep up with us God mentality, that the slow ripening of the Spirit, we don’t have time for.  Hurry up, Holy One, we shout with our “Hosannas”. 

 

New life starts in the dark where a seed can take several weeks or months before a fragile green offering springs forth from the ground.  A baby spends nine months before entering this world…then another 18 years before moving out of the house ~ talk about time.  Jesus spent three years breaking open his life with liberating love before he entered Jerusalem for that last week.

 

Two years after COVID upended the church as we knew it, I still don’t claim to know what the future will be or bring.  I don’t know what new growth, new life, resurrection moments will happen from the midnight moments of the last few years. 

As we continue to prepare for Palm Sunday, what from the past is growing inside you?  Know that not all growth brings good fruit.  There are things growing in me, like frustration and fear, that still want to feed and fuel my life.  There are things growing in the soil of my soul that don’t nourish me, which is why a few weeks ago we handed the clippers of control to God to tend our garden within us and around us.

 

I invite you to continue to pray your, “Hosannas” today, letting that word sink and settle into the soil of your life meeting you in the holy darkness with a promise of new life.  Amen.

Preparing for Palm Sunday Part Two

 

When we last left Jesus, he was drenched and dripping with perfume.  This always makes me think of walking through a cosmetic department where the air is thick with competing smells.  Perfume can linger and leave a lasting aroma.

 

The very next day, when Jesus rides into Jerusalem on a donkey to the shouts of “Hosanna”, I wonder if he still smelled like Chanel No. 5?  I wonder if he could still smell the perfume in his hair or on his clothes?  When he rode past did the chants and cries of the crowd turn to a few coughs like I do when I walk through Dillard’s or Macy’s?  Jesus is anointed, just as a king would be anointed before ascending to the throne.  Jesus rides a humble donkey, just as David did in the Old Testament and Zechariah predicted would be a sign of God’s hope to the people. 

 

Remember, Jesus is arriving at the holiest city in his faith, Jerusalem, at one of the holiest times of year, the Passover.  The people are retelling the narrative of how God’s liberating love set free their ancestors who were oppressed in Egypt.  The people retell the story about how Moses came persisting and insisting that Pharoah, “Let God’s people go!”  This wasn’t just a trip down memory lane.  For our Jewish brothers and sisters God’s love is still liberating us today.  It didn’t take calling in Sherlock Holmes to see how the story of Moses’s day was still the story of Jesus’ day.  People in Jesus day knew well how Caesar oppressed people, just as Pharoah did.  This is why Rome would send extra soldiers, authorities would be on high alert, and why the religious leaders disapproved of Jesus’ political theater bringing more unwanted attention from Rome.  In the book, “The Last Week,” Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan say that as Jesus was coming in the back gate from Bethany, Roman authorities were coming in the front gate to Jerusalem with their own parade of power.  Roman officials on their stallions saying essentially to the people, “Remember who is in charge here.  Have your nice festival, but don’t get any ideas about rising up wanting liberation or freedom, because we know what to do with people who don’t stay in their lane.”

 

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

 

On Sunday, we will pray, sing, and cry, “Hosanna” (which means, “Save us.”), because we still long for God’s liberating love to unbind us and set us free.  See the connection to Lazarus?  Hosanna, save us from that which hurts and harms us.  Save us from ways we hurt and harm others – family or friends or strangers.  Save us from the ways we hurt and harm ourselves.  Save us from a world that clings to might makes right and redemptive violence and revenge.  Save us leaders who “other” people to score points with their base.  Save us from believing too much in our own biases and points of view (rather than accepting we all have a view from a point).

 

Hosanna, Save us, is not just a prayer for Palm Sunday, but every day.  Where does that word we will shout and sing on Sunday connect with you today?  I invite you to take a piece of paper, crayons, and write the word, “Hosanna” in large letters right in the middle of the page.  Use all the colors of the crayon box!  Then around the word, write what you need saving from.  Perhaps something that is causing you stress and strain ~ physically or emotionally or relationally or spiritually.  The troubles in the world that sits heavy on your heart ~ Ukraine, homelessness, prejudice, and polarization.  Perhaps there is an abiding anger that simmers to a slow boil in your heart that causes you to have outburst of yelling or anxiety or fear caught in your throat. 

Whisper the word with me, “Hosanna.”

Say the word to your soul, “Hosanna”

Say the word to your family and friends, “Hosanna”

Say the word to Sarasota and Bradenton and our community, “Hosanna”!

Say the word to a world that still needs a Savior, “Hosanna”.

May you and I continue to prepare our hearts for Sunday when we begin our holiest week.  Amen.