Jean

Holy Thursday~Keeping Watch

It’s the first day of Passover – the feast of unleavened bread. Jesus sends two of his disciples ahead to make preparation for their meal. In the Luke account, Jesus tells his disciples exactly what will happen as they go on their way. A place is found for them, and they take their places for this holy meal. Jesus says, “I have earnestly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer” (Luke 21:15). As we know, especially from the Luke texts (Luke 22:1-46) the disciples don’t understand at all what is coming. But let’s join them at this meal.

It was a night like so many others. They had come to Jerusalem so many times through the years (perhaps even with Jesus) to gather with their people to celebrate their freedom from slavery. Every part of this meal was chosen with care to remind them of their flight from Egypt. Imagine the talk around the table that night. Between the prayers, and the songs, they eat the bitter herbs, the matza, the charoset, and drink the wine. As they are eating, Jesus moves to kneel before his friends and begins to wash their feet (John 13:2-17). It is a vivid picture –

“He laid aside his outer garments, and taking a towel, tied it around his waist. ⁵ Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was wrapped around him.” (John 13:3-4)

It’s easy to understand that this was hard for the disciples to take. The master should not be the servant. It is they who should be washing the feet of Jesus. I think if I had been there, I would have felt embarrassed, almost ashamed in this incredibly intimate moment. To be honest, my thoughts would probably go to how dirty my feet are, how evident is this scar or how hard this callous is? I would be sympathetic to Peter’s objection – “you shall never wash my feet!” Jesus’ response? “If I do not wash you, you have no share in me” (John 13:8).

John’s account does not include Christ’s taking of the bread and the wine. But Luke’s does. ¹⁷ And he took a cup, and when he had given thanks he said, “Take this, and divide it among yourselves. ¹⁸ For I tell you that from now on I will not drink of the fruit of the vine until the kingdom of God comes.” ¹⁹ And he took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” ²⁰ And likewise the cup after they had eaten, saying, “This cup that is poured out for you is the new covenant in my blood. (Luk 22:17-20 ESV)

He has already spoken of Judas’ betrayal. There has been talk again which of them will be the greatest in His kingdom. Jesus rebukes them, saying: “let the greatest among you become as the youngest, and the leader as one who serves. ²⁷ For who is the greater, one who reclines at table or one who serves? Is it not the one who reclines at table? But I am among you as the one who serves” (Luk 22:26-27 ESV). Whether they say it or not, they must have been thinking “this is crazy talk! This is so not what we expected!” And Jesus continues, by telling Peter, “before the night is out you will deny me three times.” What a night this has been! From the intimacy of their taking the Passover meal in that quiet upper room, to Jesus washing their feet, and then talk of betrayal and denial. Such contradiction! So many intense emotions! One author speaks of this contradiction like this:

“In Holy Thursday liturgy, we sense the beginning of a Eucharistic world and hear the clank of soldiers’ boots along a garden path at the same time.”¹

I can almost hear the scraping of their chairs on the floor as Jesus leads them out of the room to go to the garden (well, I know they’re not sitting in chairs – but that sound is such a reminder of the noise of leaving.) Before they go, they sing a hymn and follow Jesus.

We don’t often think of that walk. I have no idea how long a walk it is. But the minds of the disciples must have been racing with all this talk of betrayal and death. Did they pass others on the path? Did they speak to anyone? Did they speak to each other, of their confusion and worry? The garden they were seeking was on the western slopes of the Mount of Olives. Jesus led them to a place there, called Gethsemane, and he left them to go to pray. In the Matthew account, he tells Peter and James and John (the two sons of Zebedee) that he is troubled and very sad. “Remain here and watch with me.” He leaves them and then we see his anguish, his cry to His Father, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” (Mat 26:39 ESV) He returns to his disciples and finds them asleep. And he says to Peter, “So, could you not watch with me one hour?” (Mat 26:40).

“Could you not watch with me for even one hour?” In those words, I recognized my own weakness, my own unwillingness to do hard things, my inability to, no, even my objections to stay in my anxieties or fears or even pain. In Mark’s account this is repeated two more times. As Peter later denies him three times here they have failed three times to stay and watch with Christ as he wrestles with his struggle to be obedient to His father. Luke’s account says on his return to his friends, “he found them sleeping for sorrow” (Luke 22:45). Did Jesus need them to stay awake? In some ways, I believe he did. He had spent years with these disciples, these friends and to share his struggle, his wrestling with the will of God had to be so important to him. But it was so much more than that. I believe at the heart of those words, “Could you not watch with me even one hour” was his desire that his friends would learn how to withstand their own suffering, their own fears and pain.

Falling asleep in the threat of pain is not an uncommon response to trauma. I’ve experienced it, I have seen this in others. When I know I need to be present to whatever the Lord is wanting me to face, it is so easy to yawn, or go take a nap. In Matthew’s account Jesus says this, ⁴¹ Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Mat 26:41 ESV)

“We fall asleep out of sorrow whenever we become so confused and overwhelmed by some kind of disappointment that we begin to act out of hostility rather than love, paranoia rather than trust, despair rather than hope. We fall asleep out of sorrow whenever we sell short what’s highest in us because of the bitterness of the moment.” ²

To keep watch means to stay present in the midst of the temptations to self-soothe, to disassociate, to check out. Jesus knows our hearts, he knows our capacity for fickleness, He calls us to wakefulness. He wants us to be aware of any part of us that shrinks back from His work in us in fear. Today, He calls us to name those things, to lay them at His feet and receive the help we so desperately need. There is a call in Jesus’ movements and prayers in the Garden for us who follow him to keep a spirit of wakefulness. He died to make us whole, and He lives to give us courage!

There is a virtue that can help us here. Paul called it long-suffering; Aquinas calls it longanimity, a virtue which “directs the soul towards a good for which we yearn, specifically a good that’s been a long time coming. So longanimity is a virtue for those who wait, it entails steadfastness in hopefully awaiting a long-delayed good.”³

These were the last words of Jesus to his friends before his arrest. This night has been such a cacophony of feelings! (feelings have sound right? Like the harsh sound of broken dishes?) From the intimacy of the shared meal, to having Jesus wash their feet, to these strange words about communion, to his warnings about betrayal and denial, and now to these finals words – “Could you not watch for even one hour?” Jesus has shown us He is and will always be with us – “washing our feet,” serving us, loving us even to the point of death.

In our watch and waiting this day – we can look toward the glorious vigil that is kept on Holy Saturday. I am not of a tradition which observes the Easter Vigil, (insert sad face) but I love the way our sorrow and grief from the last three days becomes the joy of a new dawn – a new day – a day of resurrection!

And in keeping with the observance of Passover, pray with me, this prayer from Easter Vigil…

O God, whose ancient wonders remain undimmed in splendor even in our day,
for what you once bestowed on a single people,
freeing them from Pharaoh’s persecution
by the power of your right hand,
now you bring about as the salvation of the nations
through the waters of rebirth,
grant, we pray, that the whole world
may become children of Abraham
and inherit the dignity of Israel’s birthright.
Through Christ our Lord.⁴

¹ Chittister, Joan. The Liturgical Year. Thomas Nelson, 2009. p. 135.
² Ron Rolheiser, https://ronrolheiser.com/the-agony-in-the-garden-the-place-to-stay-awake/
³ Teresa Smart, https://mcgrathblog.nd.edu/longanimity-the-virtue-of-waiting-for-god
⁴ From <http://pastoralliturgy.org/resources/1301OurStoryOfSalvation.php>

“Even the Stones”

Luke 9:51 – When the days drew near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.

It is Luke’s account of the Triumphal Entry that I go back to more and more each year. It’s amazing how different (yet similar) the other accounts are. Matthew’s Jewishness is evident in his gospel and you can sense that in this account of Jesus entering Jerusalem. I love Mark because he’s just so minimal! Just the facts! Luke is such a grand storyteller and in his account of the Triumphal Entry this comes through so well! He writes of stones, and determination and weeping. I always think of John as the mystical poet who sees the big picture and who is highly relational.

What do we see in Luke’s account that doesn’t show up in the others?

He set his face toward Jerusalem

In the gospel of Luke there are five mentions of Christ’s intention to go to Jerusalem, beginning in chapter 9. He actually doesn’t enter Jerusalem until chapter 19:45. But here in chapter 9 we are told that “when the days draw near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” The language here for “set his face” describes Christ’s determination, “his steely resolve” to do His Father’s bidding. I believe it’s our call as well in this season of Lent to set our faces toward Holy Week.

Even the Stones – Luke 19:37-40

³⁷ As he was drawing near–already on the way down the Mount of Olives–the whole multitude of his disciples began to rejoice and praise God with a loud voice for all the mighty works that they had seen, ³⁸ saying, “Blessed is the King who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!” ³⁹ And some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, rebuke your disciples.” ⁴⁰ He answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.”

Jesus is saying – if true worship and a testimony to the truth of who I am do not come from my people the very stones will cry out. Worship is the highest and best response to the revelation of Christ as King, as Lord. It is the response not only of God’s people, but of all creation!

Shout for joy to God, all the earth; ² sing the glory of his name; give to him glorious praise! ³ Say to God, “How awesome are your deeds! So great is your power that your enemies come cringing to you. ⁴ All the earth worships you and sings praises to you; they sing praises to your name.” Selah ⁵ Come and see what God has done: he is awesome in his deeds toward the children of man. (Psa 66:1-5 ESV)

Do you reckon the psalmist means stones as well?

Jesus weeps over Jerusalem –

Luke 19:41-44 ⁴¹ And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, ⁴² saying, “Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. ⁴³ For the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up a barricade around you and surround you and hem you in on every side ⁴⁴ and tear you down to the ground, you and your children within you. And they will not leave one stone upon another in you, because you did not know the time of your visitation.”

This is a side of Jesus rarely seen. In John’s account Jesus wept when he saw the anguish of Mary and the other Jews with her, mourning Lazarus’ death. “He was deeply moved in his spirit and greatly troubled.” (John 11:33). I think Jesus stands on the hill overlooking Jerusalem and sees the week ahead. He will see the abandonment of his friends, he will see the mockery of the soldiers, he will listen to the cry – “Crucify Him!” and he will look for and find so little faith. But this is why He came.

Palm Sunday comes every year – and I often wonder if we enter into it with as much attention as it deserves. It’s the introduction – not the finale. It is joyous but ominous as well. And so I’ve wondered – how do we keep faith with it?

How do we keep faith with Palm Sunday?

We worship the King. The title “King” highlights Jesus’ divine authority, his role in redemption, and his eventual return to rule over all creation. Christ was hailed as King on his journey into Jerusalem, but on Friday the title becomes a mockery when the Roman soldiers strip his clothes from him, put a scarlet robe on him and a crown of thorns on his head. They taunted him calling him, “king of the Jews.” (Mat. 27:27-30)

At the end of time, when He returns we see his title worn across his body as John describes him in Revelation – “On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords” (Rev 19:16 ESV). Our worship of Him will for all of eternity proclaim him as King, the conquering victorious King. We will, alongside Paul cry out: Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen. (1Ti 1:17 NIV)

We keep faith with Palm Sunday when we worship the true King. The one who went fearlessly to the cross, who died for all men, who rose from the dead, and who ascended into heaven, taking us with him. Worthy is the King!

We keep faith with Palm Sunday when we receive Him as the meek serving Lamb of God. The King on Sunday came in on a donkey – a work animal, who came not with earthly power, to re-assert an earthly kingdom but who (in great authority none the less) came to claim back His people for His Father’s glory…He was a king like no other. Every devoted Jew expected the Messiah to come and rebuild Jerusalem and the temple. He was supposed to be an earthly king – with soldiers and armies at his bidding…yet Jesus came into Jerusalem not with rings, robes or crown. He came riding in on the back of a lowly donkey – a work horse, a symbol of humility and peace. We hear the voice of the prophet Zechariah chapter 9 – “Rejoice! Daughter of Zion. Shout! Daughter of Jerusalem! A righteous king, who brings salvation, is coming. He is humble and rides a donkey or even a young donkey.“

Most Jews believed that their Messiah would be a man who with political power would take over Roman rule and restore Israel to its rightful place in the world. But Jesus had another kingdom in mind.

Heaven is the kingdom of eternal life, the kingdom of truth, goodness and beauty. Heaven is the total spiritual transformation of human life; heaven is the kingdom of God, victory over death, the triumph of love and care; heaven is the fulfillment of that ultimate desire, about which it was said: “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man, what God has prepared for those who love him” (1 Corinthians 2:9). ¹

The way he rode that day, the way he welcomed the crowd’s worship, the way he came in humility and meekness tells us so much about the kingdom of God. It tells us that we worship both the lion and the lamb. There is such irony here -for He is the Lion-King, coming into Jerusalem with such authority – an authority we see at work when he enters the temple overturning tables.. (Luke 19:45-46). This is the King who will reign for all eternity. Like Aslan from Narnia – he is terrifying yet also good. “Aslan is a lion- the Lion, the great Lion.” “Ooh” said Susan. “I’d thought he was a man. Is he quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion”…”Safe?” said Mr. Beaver …”Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”²

And yet, on Friday He is the Lamb. “²⁹ The next day he saw Jesus coming toward him, and said, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world! (Joh 1:29 ESV) It is the Lamb we see in Revelation 5:12-13 ¹² saying with a loud voice, “Worthy is the Lamb who was slain, to receive power and wealth and wisdom and might and honor and glory and blessing!” ¹³ And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, ‘To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!’” (ESV)

Healing vanquishes illness and creates health. Yet it does not vanquish the power of death. But salvation in its full and completed form is the annihilation of the power of death and the raising of man and woman to eternal life. In this wider sense of salvation…people are healed not through Jesus’ miracles, but through Jesus’ wounds; that is, they are gathered into the indestructible love of God.³

We keep faith with Palm Sunday when we worship Christ as the Lamb of God who was sacrificed for us and who will be there at the end of time – “then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb” (Rev. 2:1).

Finally, we keep faith with Palm Sunday when we begin to truly love His people.

Jesus wept over Jerusalem because there was no faith there, once a city of beautiful faith, now a city that is barren and unbelieving. So many “righteous” people, so many “teachers” of the Holy Scriptures… So many hypocrites. And so little faith.

What does it mean to have our hearts broken over what breaks the heart of God? What does it take to unsettle us? I’m not talking about feeling guilty – I’m talking about having the strength of resolve it takes to shake up my life so that I will see that the harvest is ripe? How do we cultivate a love like His? I was challenged today with this very thing. We have a young man in our lives who has come and gone a lot. He has lived on his own for many years and has kept a simple and good spirit about him. He believes in God. But he is needy. And the last thing I want right now is a needy person. He’s presently homeless and is sleeping in his car. Nate has offered to let him stay with us for a few days. Of course, he asked my permission – and I simply said, I don’t know if I can do it. But then my own words came back to haunt me – Am I willing to have my heart broken over what breaks the heart of Jesus? And so, I was called. I’m not naïve about the challenges and it wasn’t guilt that motivated me in the end. It was simply – can I weep for those for whom Christ weeps? Can I keep faith with Palm Sunday by opening my home to a stranger?

We worship the King; we welcome the Lamb, and we love as He loved. This is the worship of a people who keep faith with Palm Sunday.

1 Alexander Schmemann, source not known.

2 Lewis, C. S.. The Chronicles of Narnia : The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. New York: Harper Collins Publisher, 1978. Text.

3. Thomas Long, What Shall We Say: Evil, Suffering and the Crisis of Faith. Grand Rapids: Wm B. Eerdmans, 2011. loc. 1743

Holy Week Reflections: The Journey of Repentance

Return to the Lord Your God with All Your Heart – With Jesus, we set our face toward Jerusalem. We make our pilgrimage with Him by the way of repentance, and thus, return to the dying and rising of Holy Baptism.¹

In the gospel of Luke there are five mentions of Christ’s intention to go to Jerusalem. In Luke 9:51 we are told that “when the days draw near for him to be taken up, he set his face to go to Jerusalem.” The language here for “set his face” describes Christ’s determination, “his steely resolve” to do His Father’s bidding. I believe it’s our call as well in this season of Lent to set our faces toward Holy Week.

I’m mindful of the significance of entering fully into all that this week holds. As I read the different gospel accounts of Holy Week I confess a preference for Luke’s gospel account. He is such a grand storyteller and how he leads us into this time is particularly profound. As I have been studying this week I’ve also been struck by the range of emotions we see in Jesus.– His sorrow over Jerusalem (Luke 19:41), His wrath in the temple (Luke 19:45), His grief in the garden (Luke 22:45-46), and His joy in the cross (Heb. 12:2).

I think it’s fitting for us, on the eve of Palm Sunday, to do the work of the prayer of examen. (If you want the specifics of the prayer of examen or confessional prayer, I did include the link in my last post, but you can also click here: https://hamewith.org/2023/12/confessional-prayer/)

Let’s find a quiet place and begin to ask the Holy Spirit to reveal to us those sins, habits or attitudes that need to be forgiven. I think we cannot (or should not) do this work on our own. That would probably put us in jeopardy of either minimizing our sin or keeping us bound in unhealthy guilt or shame. The apostle Paul can help us here -in Col. 3:5-10 he is thorough in describing those sins we were called to put to death in our baptisms. (But I would also recommend finding a trusted friend or pastor to be with you in your confession).

It is the work of the Holy Spirit that we need as we come to confession of sin. We need Him to reveal Christ to us; we need Him to show us our hearts; we need Him to awaken in us a holy contrition, and sorrow over our sins and our forgetfulness.

So, as we come to this prayer, we cry out – Show us Christ, Lord, show us the Father’s love. Let gratitude rise in our hearts in this holy time for all that You, and the Father and the Son have done in our hearts and lives… We remember Your goodness, Your provision for us, Your great faithfulness. We come to this confession as the psalmist did in Psalm 139:23 -24, “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Test me and know my thoughts! See if there is any wicked way in me and lead me in the way everlasting!”

We don’t need to make a ruthless inventory of sins – but we do need to be as specific as we can. Use your prayer journal to do this, or even better do what I suggested earlier: find someone who can be a witness to your confession. As we name them, and confess them we can pray – “Lord, I repent. I turn from this sin.” Alexander Schmemann in writing about repentance says that “repentance as regret, as a desire to return, and a surrender to God’s love and mercy… “is a gift to every Christian. He goes on, “repentance is the shock of man, seeing in himself the ‘image of the ineffable glory,’ [and] realizes that he has defiled, betrayed and rejected it [as bearers of the image of God] in his life.” ² This sort of contrition and compunction is a gift of the Holy Spirit as we yield our sins up to Christ.

We then go on to ask the Spirit to search our hearts to reveal to us the roots of those sins. If I confess the sin of gossiping about someone I need to see what is at the heart of that sin. Is it envy? Bitterness? Scorn? These too Paul addresses in Colossians 3.

After our confession of sin, we must go on to receive God’s forgiveness in Christ. This is a critical part of our confession. We leave our sins at the cross and take deep into our hearts the grace and mercy of God. “Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death?” (Rom 6:3)

“The power of sin to rule [our] lives has been destroyed in the cross of Christ: we have died with Christ and have been raised up together with him in newness of life.” (Richard Lovelace)

“Therefore, we are not to set the estimates of our power to conquer sin according to past experiences of our will power but are to fix our attention on Christ and the power of his risen life in which we participate: for we have died, and our life is now hidden with Christ in God.”³

This is the work of every believer. This is the work of love. Confession of sin deepens not only our love for God but for ourselves and others too. Truly confessing and repenting has a way of uniting us with the Body of Christ. Today is the Day of the Lord. Today he calls us to set our eyes on Jerusalem. Begin this journey by bringing your sins, regrets and forgetfulness to Christ. Let this week be a new day for you – a call to once again live out your baptismal identity. We were dead in our sins, and Christ brought us back from death into life. Thanks be to God!

¹ http://www.stpaullutheranchurchhamel.org/ashwednesday.html>

² Alexander Schmemann, Great Lent: Journey to Pascha (St Valdimir’s Seminary Press, 1969), 65.

³ Richard Lovelace, Dynamics of Spiritual Life: An Evangelical Theology of Renewal (Inter-Varsity Press), 115.

Turning Our Hearts to Calvary

Friends, as we turn our hearts toward Calvary, it would serve us well to begin (or to continue if this is already a part of your devotional life) to pray the prayer of examen, a practice initiated by St Ignatius. (For a description of this go to https://hamewith.org/2023/12/confessional-prayer/)

This prayer gives us time and space to ask the Holy Spirit to search our hearts and to bring present to us any way that we have not honored God or others and have sinned as a result of that dishonor. But before we go there, we need to quiet our hearts to enter more deeply into the most perfect and extravagant love of our Triune God, Father, Son and Spirit. (To give words to their incredible uniqueness and unity, I’ve included a link to the creed here – https://hamewith.org/2025/03/the-athanasian-creed/

John 3:16 For this is the way God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life. (NET)

I’m afraid that this verse has become so familiar to us that we rarely take time to enter into the profound truth spoken here. This can be, as we allow it, an opportunity to let beauty and truth enter deeply into our souls. Take some time now to read this slowly, as integrated persons (head and heart) allowing the Holy Spirit to bring forth its eternal truth. This is lectio divina, the act of entering deeply into the meaning of Scripture.

“When we do lectio divina, we read Scripture in line with its divine character – as we always should.” Hans Boersma.

Boersma goes on to say, “the search for meaning (that is to say, exegesis) is a search for God, not an attempt at historical reconstruction. And if exegesis is a knocking and searching for God himself, then lectio divina is simply what we do when we rightly handle the word of truth (2 Tim 2:15).” (Pierced by Love: Divine Reading with the Christian Tradition, p 14-15).

While it’s natural for us to read this passage for ourselves, I would encourage you to read it as well, as a member of the Church, the Body of Christ. Pay close attention to John’s reference “God loved the world.”

Let’s turn our hearts to Philippians 2: 5-11, where Paul tells us that Christ emptied himself (v. 7) in order to become like us. This is not the place to think about the theological connotations of kenosis, although a rigorous study of that is highly recommended! Paul tells us that Christ emptied himself, took on the form of a slave, becoming like us. His calling from there was to be obedient (to the Father), even to death on a cross.

What kind of love is this? Though it may seem rhetorical, we should let the truth of this profound love deeply impact us. Take the time to reflect, to meditate (chew on) and pray through this passage. Consider its beauty and truth. Boersma calls us to “true contemplation, the contemplation that has as its heart’s desire – “I sought Him whom my soul loveth” (Song of Solomon 3:1) (Pierced by Love, p. 167).

⁵ You should have the same attitude toward one another that Christ Jesus had, ⁶ who though he existed in the form of God did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, ⁷ but emptied himself by taking on the form of a slave, by looking like other men, and by sharing in human nature. ⁸ He humbled himself, by becoming obedient to the point of death – even death on a cross! ⁹ As a result God exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name, ¹⁰ so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow – in heaven and on earth and under the earth – ¹¹ and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord to the glory of God the Father. (Phi 2:5-11 NET)

Boersma continues the idea of contemplation by saying – “the soul feels the delight of the Word’s caresses” (Song of Songs, 3:1) (Boersma, p. 167). Allow the Word (John 1:1) and the Scriptures to profoundly minister to you and embrace all that they offer. It is the unique task of the Holy Spirit to open our eyes to the glory (and love) of the Father and the Son.

As we begin to allow the Holy Spirit to reveal to us any sin, any way that we have dishonored God or others, remember this: “…participation in Christ means abandoning our pretenses, openly acknowledging our identities as sinner in bondage, and in the same moment realizing with a stab of piercing joy that the victory is already ours in Christ, won by him who died to save us. (Rutledge)

The action of God precedes our consciousness of sin, so that we perceive the depth of our own participation in sin’s bondage, simultaneously with the recognition of the unconditional love of Christ…” (Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion, p. 171).

This is enough for the day. The Crucifixion does indeed call forth our needs to confess sin, but before we get there, let’s allow the Love of the Trinity to pierce our hearts and souls. Let me leave you with this thought: “At the risk of oversimplifying, for Paul the sequence is not sin-repentance-forgiveness, but grace-sin-deliverance-repentance-grace” (Rutledge, p. 192).

Let this version of the hymn,” O the deep deep love of Jesus” bring rest to your soul.

Hans Boersma, Pierced by Joy: Divine Reading with the Christian Tradition (Lexham Press, 2023), 14-15.
ibid. p. 167.
Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion: Understanding the Death of Jesus Christ (Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2015), p. 171.
ibid. p. 192.

The Athanasian Creed

Now this is the catholic (Christian) faith:

    That we worship one God in trinity and the trinity in unity,
    neither blending their persons
    nor dividing their essence.
        For the person of the Father is a distinct person,
        the person of the Son is another,
        and that of the Holy Spirit still another.
        But the divinity of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit is one,
        their glory equal, their majesty coeternal.

    What quality the Father has, the Son has, and the Holy Spirit has.
        The Father is uncreated,
        the Son is uncreated,
        the Holy Spirit is uncreated.

        The Father is immeasurable,
        the Son is immeasurable,
        the Holy Spirit is immeasurable.

        The Father is eternal,
        the Son is eternal,
        the Holy Spirit is eternal.

            And yet there are not three eternal beings;
            there is but one eternal being.
            So too there are not three uncreated or immeasurable beings;
            there is but one uncreated and immeasurable being.

    Similarly, the Father is almighty,
        the Son is almighty,
        the Holy Spirit is almighty.
            Yet there are not three almighty beings;
            there is but one almighty being.

        Thus the Father is God,
        the Son is God,
        the Holy Spirit is God.
            Yet there are not three gods;
            there is but one God.

        Thus the Father is Lord,
        the Son is Lord,
        the Holy Spirit is Lord.
            Yet there are not three lords;
            there is but one Lord.

    Just as Christian truth compels us
    to confess each person individually
    as both God and Lord,
    so catholic religion forbids us
    to say that there are three gods or lords.

    The Father was neither made nor created nor begotten from anyone.
    The Son was neither made nor created;
    he was begotten from the Father alone.
    The Holy Spirit was neither made nor created nor begotten;
    he proceeds from the Father and the Son.

    Accordingly there is one Father, not three fathers;
    there is one Son, not three sons;
    there is one Holy Spirit, not three holy spirits.

    Nothing in this trinity is before or after,
    nothing is greater or smaller;
    in their entirety the three persons
    are coeternal and coequal with each other.

    So in everything, as was said earlier,
    we must worship their trinity in their unity
    and their unity in their trinity.

Anyone then who desires to be saved
should think thus about the trinity.

But it is necessary for eternal salvation
that one also believe in the incarnation
of our Lord Jesus Christ faithfully.

Now this is the true faith:

    That we believe and confess
    that our Lord Jesus Christ, God’s Son,
    is both God and human, equally.

     He is God from the essence of the Father,
    begotten before time;
    and he is human from the essence of his mother,
    born in time;
    completely God, completely human,
    with a rational soul and human flesh;
    equal to the Father as regards divinity,
    less than the Father as regards humanity.

    Although he is God and human,
    yet Christ is not two, but one.
    He is one, however,
    not by his divinity being turned into flesh,
    but by God’s taking humanity to himself.
    He is one,
    certainly not by the blending of his essence,
    but by the unity of his person.
    For just as one human is both rational soul and flesh,
    so too the one Christ is both God and human.

    He suffered for our salvation;
    he descended to hell;
    he arose from the dead;
    he ascended to heaven;
    he is seated at the Father’s right hand;
    from there he will come to judge the living and the dead.
    At his coming all people will arise bodily
    and give an accounting of their own deeds.
    Those who have done good will enter eternal life,
    and those who have done evil will enter eternal fire.

This is the catholic faith:
one cannot be saved without believing it firmly and faithfully.

The Power of the Cross: Reflections for Lent

Friends, it is the middle of Lent 2025 and we begin to turn our faces to Holy Week. I find myself in need of lifting my eyes to what Christ crucified truly means to us, His Bride. In the worries of the day, I have not slowed my heart down, I have not stopped to contemplate both the cost and the wealth of what was purchased for me (and for us) at Calvary. Will you join me in turning our eyes, our attention, our prayers toward the Cross on the hill?

This is a beautiful hymn by Sovereign Grace and I was moved not only by the refrain, but by the opening line of each stanza. “Oh to see my name written in the wounds” was a line that I found myself singing, but I had forgotten the context and the actual name of the song. How happy I am for search engines! I found balm for my restless soul, as I let each stanza and every refrain envelop me with the truth of what Christ has done on the Cross. I pray it is inspiring to you as well. Listen to this version as you read and pray through the hymn.

Oh to see the dawn of the darkest day
Christ on the road to Calvary
Tried by sinful men, torn and beaten then
Nailed to the cross of wood

This the power of the cross
Christ became sin for us, took the blame, bore the wrath
We stand forgiven at the cross

Oh to see the pain written on your face
Bearing the awesome weight of sin
Every bitter thought every evil deed
Crowning your blood stained brow

This the power of the cross
Christ became sin for us, took the blame, bore the wrath
We stand forgiven at the cross

Now the day light flees, now the ground beneath
Quakes as its maker bows his head
Curtain torn in two, dead are raised to life
Finished, the victory cry

This the power of the cross
Christ became sin for us, took the blame, bore the wrath
We stand forgiven at the cross

Oh to see my name written in the wounds
For through your suffering I am free
Death is crushed to death, life is mine to live
Won through your selfless love

This the power of the cross
Son of God slain for us, one above, one across
We stand forgiven at the cross.

photo by Photo by Wim van ‘t Einde on Unsplash

The Suffering of Exile

As we follow the story of our Lord’s life we shall see that there is nothing at all that men can suffer that he did not suffer too. One of the greatest miseries which men endure is that of banishment from their own country. Thousands of men and women and children were driven from their homes in the last war, and may have never been able to return to them, and the people of Israel have endured the wretchedness of exile over and over again all through their history. And the sorrow of exile was the first of the sorrows that came to Our Lord.

Elizabeth Goudge, God So Loved the World, p. 36-37.

Christ Revealed

If we are to participate into the very heart of Epiphany, to the very soul of its meaning for us, we need to do more than hear the Scripture account of the Magi. We also need to participate in a meditative way in the entire service of worship into which this story has been placed because this piece of the unfolding mystery of salvation is the key to the shape of our spiritual experience between now and Lent. Even as our Christmas spirituality was shaped by the dominant theme of the incarnation, so now our Epiphany spirituality will be shaped by the overriding theme of Christ’s manifestation as Savior of the world. Even as the incarnation finds its continuation in us through our union with Christ, so the Epiphany of Christ is extended in us through the practice of Epiphany spirituality. Our Epiphany journey can start at no better place than the Epiphany service of worship. (Ancient-Future Time, p. 76)

Webber, Robert, Ancient-Future Time: Forming Spirituality through the Christian Year. Baker Books, 2004.

His Life is the Light of Us All

“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.” 1

These are the first lines of a beloved (by me anyway!) poem by T.S. Eliot written after his conversion to Christianity. Simply titled The Journey of the Magi, Eliot describes the events surrounding their journey to greet the newborn king of Israel. I love these lines because they picture the hardness and courage needed for such a journey. Eliot’s poem is rich in metaphor and as the wise men come close to the end of this journey he writes of them coming into a temperate valley with flowing streams, and three trees on a hill.

Take a moment and put yourself into this place, even on those camels – where the journey is hard and cold, but the sweet smells of summer call – and you find yourself wanting to move faster and faster toward deliverance and salvation. They almost blew it – going straight to Herod to get directions because of course Herod would know where the new king would be. Surely, he too would want to meet the “consolation of Israel.” Almost frantic now, they left in a hurry and saw the star that would lead them to their end. Eliot says “and so we continued, and arrived at evening, not a moment too soon. Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.” From Matthew’s account (2:1-12) we see “they fell down and worshiped him. Then, opening their treasures, they offered him gifts, gold and frankincense and myrrh.”

This was the first encounter (as far as we know) of Gentiles encountering the Christ. And for them it was such an epiphany, such a manifestation and a revelation of the salvation that would be for all the world it took them to their knees in worship. This is Epiphany and for the church it’s a time where we acknowledge all the ways that Christ has been revealed as Savior and Lord to us. For the wise men, it was a revelation of glory – and glory is so often linked with light in the Scriptures.

Consider these verses from John – and by consider I mean read them in a sacred slow meditative way. Light a candle, listen to a beloved song. (I highly recommend O Magnum Mysterium.) Even better, have someone else read them to you! Or you read them to someone else! I love, love it when I hear stories read aloud. I have had a crush on Garrison Keillor’s voice for a very long time. I loved it when Leanne Payne in the context of a teaching would tell a story from her own life that not only brought the teaching to life – it became an incredible way God revealed Himself to us who were there listening.

Sorry, I got off course – here are the verses from the gospel of John. Think glory, think revelation, think light.

John 1:4-5 – In Him was life, and the life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness and the darkness has not overcome it.

John 1:9-10 – The true light, which gives light to everyone was coming into the world. He was in the world and the world was made through him., yet the world did not know him.

John 1:14 – And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.

John 1:18 – No one has ever seen God. It is God the only son, who is close to the Father’s heart, who has made Him known.

John 8:12 – Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” ( ESV)

What stirred in you in this reading? How did God reveal Himself to you? What phrases or words touched your soul? Scripture is alive! And God reveals Himself to us through His Word.

There are other miracles associated with Epiphany but I think I’ll stop here. In fact, let’s all stop and listen and look for and receive what God chooses to reveal to us. We too, along with the shepherds or the wise men, and Simeon, and Anna, can see Jesus – and bend our knees in worship. Corporately or in our own devotional times can pray as we come into God’s presence – “Lord, reveal yourself to us… in our struggles, in our suffering, in our joys, in our worship.” May the cry of our hearts perpetually be: “Make yourself known, Lord, this day and every day.”

1 Eliot, T. S. The Journey of the Magi. Faber & Gwyer, 1927.
Featured Image – courtesy of Mike Labrum – Unsplash.
Eliot’s poem can be found in this link:
https://hamewith.org/2025/01/the-journey-of-the-magi-2/(opens in a new tab)

The Journey of The Magi

“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.”
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires gong out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty, and charging high prices.:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at dawn we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water-mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wine-skins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we lead all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I have seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

T.S. Eliot