As we turn our focus from the bright sadness of Lent and the wonder of the Cross, I pray that in this season to come we will move more deeply into what it means to live a resurrection life. We know it is not the life the prosperity gospel preaches, but if you are still with me, lets take the next 40 days (until the Ascension) and explore what Resurrection life looks like!
One element I would like to add to the regular practice of confessions is to consider any way, large or small, where we experienced Christ’s resurrection in our lives. In our time from Advent until now we have taken one day in the week to confess our sins. But I think now, it would be so good to include this added practice, even more often than that. Perhaps, before going to sleep each night , in whatever prayers you do, take the time to let the Holy Spirit to show you those moments of resurrection life you experienced or witnessed. I typically pray compline before I go to bed and I have found many resources that help me do that. I can give you resources if you’d like, or if you have ideas, share them here as well!
We might consider taking one of the passages in Scripture that emphasizes the Resurrection and memorize it. Certainly there are many we can both study and use lectio divina as ways to go deeper into Scripture.
Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy, he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. Though you have not seen him, you love him, and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls. 1 Peter 1:3-4a, 8-9.
“The proof that God raised Jesus from the dead is not the empty tomb, but the full hearts of his transformed disciples. The crowning evidence that he lives is not a vacant grave, but a spirit-filled fellowship. Not a rolled-away stone, but a carried-away church.” Clarence Jordan
In many traditions of the Church, today marks Holy Saturday – sometimes known as Easter Vigil. In all four gospel accounts this day is mentioned as the Sabbath between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection. After Christ’s body is removed from the Cross Joseph of Arimathea is given permission by Pilate to bury him. In a few of the gospel accounts the women (Mary Magdalene and the “other” Mary) start preparing the spices and oils which will be used along with linen cloths to wrap his body. In the John account (John 19) it is actually Nicodemus who does this. But before the preparations are completed the Sabbath begins. And so the ritual is not completed.
I think it’s significant that there is this moment between two of the most profound aspects of our Christian faith. We know from the Apostle’s Creed that this is the day Jesus descended into Sheol. Remember all of the disciples thought Christ’s death was the end of it. Most of them had abandoned Jesus in his greatest hour of need. There was no vigil for them that Sabbath night. They gathered to grieve, to weep, to mourn the death of their dream. Not one of them seemed to remember what Jesus had said to them about his death. In the Mark account he predicts his death in three passages (Mark 8:31-33, 9:30-32, and 10:32-34). In those same passages he predicts his resurrection.
In many ways, Holy Saturday is a time of suspension. Hanging between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection it is neither fraught with grief or fraught with hope. It’s an in-between day. But I think we’ve all had our holy Saturdays – those seasons in our lives where we feel in limbo – perhaps even between death and life. A loss, a death, a marriage, a miscarriage, a job, a parent… Have you ever thought about those days between the Cross and the Resurrection? Why. Did God need that? Did we need that? For the disciples how ashamed most of them must have been. To abandon Christ after all they had experienced with him. And how confusing it would have been – to walk with the King into Jerusalem less than a week ago to being stunned by what happened at Golgotha.
Our own holy Saturdays can be a time when we cry out to God. I think we are given permission to bring to Him the tension of those struggles we have. It could be a time to sit in the many psalms of lament in the Scriptures (Psalms 4, 35, 79, 94, and so many more). The cry of our heart might simply be “How Long, O Lord”. I recently did a study of that phrase and was very surprised at how often it came up. Psalm 13:1 – “How long, O LORD? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me? God invites us to bring to him all that is in our heart – even our doubts or fears or pain or struggles.
It is also a day of Sabbath rest – even more than a time – it’s a place of rest, where we might suspend our own struggles to simply find rest in God. Where we might remind our hearts that God is faithful. “But I trust in you, O Lord; I say you are my God” (Psalm 31:14). Most of the laments in the Psalms begin with sheer honesty – and yet end with trust.
As the preacher said – It’s Friday but Sunday’s coming! Our Christian Hope is established on Friday and fulfilled on Sunday! And in the meantime – there’s grace to rest, to be in God’s presence, to abide in faith. We all need Holy Saturdays – because in the testing of our faith we are told by Peter – “after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen!” (1 Peter 5:10-11).
What can one say? How do we even begin to grasp the import of this day for us? It can compare to no other day in the life of the Christian. I spoke tonight at our Good Friday service and used Mark 15:33-47 as the text. I went through the text but ended the talk with what I’m including below. This is such an intimate day, a life-changing day, I had to describe it as if I were there. I know that all of us cry out to see the Crucified Christ in life-changing ways. We know, though, that only the Holy Spirit can reveal Him to us. May it be so this night.
As I prayed about the message tonight, I thought about what it would be like to actually be there. At Calvary. So I did just that. I found myself at the foot of the cross. And this is what I saw, and this is what I heard. Maybe this is what He wants for all of us.
I am standing at the foot of the Cross on the hill of Calvary. I can only cry out to God, let this be done quickly, please… I am terrified of this darkness and of the quaking of the earth beneath me. It has lasted so long – but I am afraid to leave. I cannot leave. And then his voice. I heard these words that I didn’t even really understand – Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachtani. I know it though – from the words of the Psalm. What does it mean? I cannot grasp it all, but I hear it as the cry of my own heart – “Why oh why have you forsaken me?” I have been left in my sin, and my shame, and even in my suffering. I have been spat on, hit, cursed, and oh the pain… Your Word, Lord comes to mind again – you too were despised and rejected by others; you too suffered. Could all this around me be the fulfillment of your word? Even though you were struck down by God – was that for me? Did you take on my pain, my sin? Can it be that by your wounds, I am healed?
“oh to see my name… written in the wounds…”
– O that you would rend the heavens and come down, that the mountains might quake at your presence – as when fire kindles brushwood and the fire causes water to boil – to make your name known to your adversaries, and that the nations might tremble at your presence.
Later I find out – that in that time of darkness, that while the earth shook and the hot winds blew, the veil had been torn. From top to bottom it has been ripped! What does that mean? – Only the holy ones can enter it – surely not I or even my Lord. – But – oh yes! It is torn! The holy of holies is now open – wide open to receive me! To receive the world! If the world would only accept it.
I look around me and see the crowds… those who mocked but there were some who wept. I see a group of women standing apart from the crowds. They are the ones who weep. But where are the others? Those who followed him, those who were his friends.
I cannot leave, but I cannot watch – to see that sour wine pressed to his lips. And then… He died. He breathed his last breath – oh how I wish it were my last breath. It is finished.
They come for his body – but even then, I don’t want to leave. I am tethered to this place- this place of the Cross – for that is what it has become. I see now what I know I could never see on my own. I see that heaven is not only Christ centered, it is Cross centered. I see that my only hope in life comes in being tethered to this Cross. How could it be? That this horrific death could set me free? “oh to see my name written in the wounds… For in your suffering, I am indeed free.
It’s growing brighter—on the darkest of days – the sun returns, the clouds lighten, the wind dies down and the earth is quiet. I do not know what lies ahead, but in this place – I stand. I feel my heart settling down. – My grief is so great, but there is yet a peace. You, O Lord, bore wrath meant for me, you took the blame, you became sin for us, sin for me. And can it be that I stand forgiven? Oh – the heavens cry out that even with all else lost, there is yet, even on this dark good Friday, the enduring, even eternal power of the Cross.
I’ve chosen to do something different with this Lord’s Prayer. Since Jesus taught us this prayer, I can imagine his teaching rose out of his personal relationship with the Father. I see this prayer unfolding in the way I think he might have prayed in the garden on the eve of his crucifixion.
Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed by thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done. On earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day, our daily bread, And forgive us our sins, As we forgive those who have sinned against us. And lead us not into temptation. But deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, and the power, And the glory, forever. Amen.
My heavenly Father, to whom I yield my greatest praise, you indeed are holy. More than all, I desire to see your kingdom to come in full – and you know I want your will to be done – as hard and painful as it is for me in this place, on this night. If you could spare me this… yet my being craves one thing only – Your will. In this garden Lord, I confess my great need for the strength to face what is to come tomorrow. Forgive my enemies, Father – for they don’t even know what they are doing. I have pleaded that you spare me this trial, this testing, but again, I choose You. Deliver not only me, but the whole of creation from the evil one – whose being is set only on annihilation. I will do this which You have asked of me and so bring fully into your kingdom those you have given me. “I glorified you on earth, and now I pray that you would glorify me in your own presence with the glory I had with you before the world existed. (John 17:4) May all that you have given to me receive the gift of eternal life. Amen.
‘Take, eat; this is my Body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.’
They must have looked up, startled. What did he mean?
They must have looked at his body, and remembered how ceaselessly it had been spent and given in the toil of love ever since they had known him. How his body would be given for them on the cross, broken for his children at every Eucharist until the world’s end, they could not know yet, but as they took the bread that he gave them, and ate it in wonder and reverence, there must have been a confused prayer in their hearts that their bodies too might become bodies of love to live and die for him.”
Friends, as we approach Good Friday it’s appropriate that we take time to ask God to search our hearts, “to see if there is any offensive way in us, and to lead us in the way everlasting (Psa 139). May God grant us discernment, compunction, and contrition as we make our way to Calvary. What a tragic yet glorious phenomenon. We do not have to beat ourselves up, we don’t have to dissect our lives so that we might feel bad enough to think about Christ’s crucifixion. How can it be, that He became sin for us that we might become the righteousness of God? Today, tonight, as we sit quietly in His presence, may the Holy Spirit bring to our hearts those sins we long to lay down. I have been cranky, and judgmental, and angry when things did not go my way today. Those sins and so much more I long to be cleansed of. I long to see the “power of the Cross” work its way into my heart. As long as He is nailed to that cross – may our sins be thrown onto Him. Can we release to Him our shame? Our wounds? Our suffering? Of course, we know that He died once, once and for all – but may we, this day, take into our hearts the reality of His suffering and His death.
Begin by centering your heart in God’s presence… Give thanks to Him that you do not need to hide anything from him. Affirm that He is faithful and good, and his mercy and grace are “new every morning.” The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is thy faithfulness” (Lam. 3:22-23).
Now let him begin the process of searching your heart. What is the Holy Spirit revealing to you? Is there anger in your heart? Bitterness? Unforgiveness? Pride? Take time to let the Spirit help you be specific about your sin. How have you not honored God this week? Know that “the grace of God prepares the way for the confession of sin” (Rutledge).
Then, simply confess in as specific a way you can the sins that trouble you. Don’t rush through this process. Simply rest in God’s presence as He does this. Keep before you the Cross and what Christ has done for you. You may want to hold a cross, or a crucifix in your hand as you confess.
Now choose to let this go and receive Christ’s forgiveness for you. Remember – “He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness” (1 John 1:9).
And finally commit this confession to the Lord. As you rest in his forgiveness ask him how to walk this out. Ask for the supernatural power of His Spirit to give you what you need to move forward. Thank him that you “have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer [you] who live, but Christ lives in [you]” (Gal. 2:20).
Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in me a new and contrite heart that I, worthily lamenting my sins and acknowledging my wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Book of Common Prayer.
Friends, there is so much to consider in Holy Week. It’s a dramatic week and the events pass by so quickly! I feel inclined to take our time this week to consider Good Friday (and then Resurrection Sunday) so I might not write about Maundy Thursday – the Passover meal Christ shared with the disciples and his vigil in Gethsemane. I’m very torn about this and might change my mind!
I’ve written about this before, but I want to put it before you again. Paul took all of what happened in the life of Christ and then of course in the disciples’ lives and made it theology. As I said before, he went even further than that. The Cross, the Resurrection, baptism, death and life became a language of sanctification – it became for us who follow Christ – a way of life. And it wasn’t just Paul. You see this in Peter and other writers of the epistles.
My sense is that it would be worth our time reading reflectively these passages I’m including that use that language, especially as we approach Good Friday. How was our old self crucified? How is it that in Christ we are now the righteousness of Christ? What is it about His crucifixion that made that a reality? What does it mean that our sins were nailed to the cross?
I think as well, it would be good to read all four Gospel accounts of the crucifixion. If you read them side by side, you’ll see the way each writer brought his own personal perspective to it. Spoiler – Luke’s account made me think of Christmas!
Lord, may Your Word go down deep in us. I’ve included a song called “Show Us Christ” which might be good to listen to before reading the Scriptures.
Rom 6:3-7 – 3 Do you not know that all of us who have been baptized into Christ Jesus were baptized into his death? 4 Therefore we have been buried with him by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life. 5 For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his. 6 We know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body of sin might be destroyed, and we might no longer be enslaved to sin. 7 For whoever has died is freed from sin. (NRS)
2Co 5:21- 21 For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. (NRS)
Col 2: 13-14 – 13 And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, 14 by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross.
Step One – Read the passage slowly, attentively. Allow yourself to be taken in by the words – pay attention to any word or phrase that strikes you in the passage. (If you haven’t studied this passage, you may find this first reading will stir observation questions in you – such as who, what when, where, how).
Step Two – Read it again. Meditate and reflect on the passage. What is it in your life that needs to hear that word or phrase? Sit in silence for a time, attending to the thoughts, images and impressions that begin to come to you. Turn that into prayer.
Step Three – What is God saying to you? What do you begin to feel called to?
Step Four – How does God want you to live this passage out? What are you resolved to do?
Lectio Quote
Friends, please forgive the length of the second quote! But what a quote. If you can, take some time this week and read this out loud. Have someone else read it to you. And let its truth sink deep into your soul as you prepare for Good Friday. (The first quote is also so very good!)
The Cross is the abyss of wonders, the center of desires, the school of virtues, the house of wisdom, the throne of love, the theatre of joys, and the place of sorrows; It is the root of happiness, and the gate of Heaven.
Thomas Traherne
Of all the things in Heaven and Earth it [the Cross] is the most peculiar. It is the most exalted of all objects. It is a sign lifted up for all nations, to it shall the Gentiles seek, His rest shall be glorious: the dispersed of Judah shall be gathered together to it, from the four corners of the earth. If Love be the weight of the Soul, and its object the center, all eyes and hearts may convert and turn unto this Object: cleave unto this center, and by it enter into rest. There we might see all nations assembled with their eyes and hearts upon it. There we may see God’s goodness, wisdom, and power: yea His mercy and anger displayed. There we may see man’s sin and infinite value. His hope and fear, his misery and happiness. There we might see the Rock of Ages, and the Joys of Heaven. There we may see a Man loving all the world, and a God dying for mankind. There we may see all types and ceremonies, figures, and prophecies. And all kingdoms adoring a criminal: An innocent criminal, yet the greatest in the world. There we may see the most distant things in Eternity united: all mysteries at once couched together and explained. The only reason why this Glorious Object is so publicly admired by Churches and Kingdoms, and so little thought of by particular men, is because it is truly the most glorious: It is the Rock of Comforts and the Fountain of Joys. It is the only supreme and sovereign spectacle in all Worlds. It is a Well of Life beneath in which we may see the face of Heaven above: and the only mirror, wherein all things appear in their proper colors: that is, sprinkled in the blood of our Lord and Savior. (Traherne)
I started this post thinking I was going to continue a conversation about suffering I started a week ago. It seemed especially right because yesterday was the 10th anniversary of Zekey’s (my grandson) passing. Also, as someone who suffers with chronic migraines and other ailments, I thought I would share my thoughts about what suffering says about our God and how our suffering can be redemptive. But…
Today we turned our faces toward Jerusalem. Today, we are a part of the crowd who sang as Jesus rode by on a donkey. Today, we add our cloaks, and lay our branches down – to pay homage to a king.
This has been a difficult post to write – I am unsettled about this celebration. It seems naïve and thoughtless. It feels like cheering on the Detroit Lions – this is not going to end well.
In the jubilant cries of Hosanna – there is a plea – Hosanna is not just another hallelujah; it is the cry – Save us! As the crowds were laying down their cloaks and their branches – they were saying to the King of Kings- Be the king we need! Be the One who saves us! I think of those who were in the crowd – the ones who witnessed the raising of Lazarus, the ones who had heard and swarmed toward Bethany. The disciples were in that crowd. And of course, the Pharisees and the enemies of Jesus. A party unlike most parties. The Pharisees rebuked Jesus for the great noise that was being made by the crowd. They were singing and rejoicing over all the mighty works they had seen. But Jesus tells the religious leaders – “if these were silent, the very stones would cry out.” (Lk 19:37). They even rebuked Jesus for the songs sung by children! (Mat. 21:16) Such joy! Joy that should not be silenced. In Luke’s account we hear the Christmas angels’ cry – “Peace in heaven and glory in the highest!”
But… there’s a very real “but” here – because there is great irony, isn’t there? These joyful followers are not there at the end. At least as far as we know. Even his closest friends would be strangers by Friday. Is it any wonder that he wept as he drew near and saw the city?
In some traditions Palm Sunday moves quickly in the liturgy from the crowd’s celebration to the events that will happen over the next seven days. Palm Sunday becomes Passion Sunday – where Scriptures like Psalm 31 and Philippians 2 are read. It seems that our souls would do well to temper that joy with the realities to come. We of course have an advantage over the crowd in our Gospel narratives. We know what happens – our knowledge extends from the Incarnation all the way through to the Resurrection (and beyond of course). And we know just how fickle we will be and how fear will turn our hearts away from the beauty of our Lord – even the beauty of Good Friday.
The entry into the city is charged with irony, and it is about us as fully as it is about the people of ancient Jerusalem… Our faith, too, is fickle; we are the crucifiers of the One whose coming we have called ‘blessed.
Laurence Hull Stookey
These are the texts that are read as the liturgy moves toward the Passion narrative:
5 Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, 6 who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, 7 but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. 8 And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
Philippians 2:5-8 (ESV)
And from Psalm 31:9-12
Be gracious to me, O Lord, for I am in distress; my eye wastes away from grief, my soul and body also.
For my life is spent with sorrow, and my years with sighing; my strength fails because of my misery, and my bones waste away.
I am the scorn of all my adversaries, a horror to my neighbors, an object of dread to my acquaintances; those who see me in the street flee from me. I have passed out of mind like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel.
This liturgy… “reminds us that at the moment of what seems to be the height of Jesus’ public acceptance also begins the process of His public betrayal, His public failure, His public abandonment. Only in the mind of God is Jesus any longer a success, it seems.” (The Liturgical Year)
This is what lies ahead on the road to Jerusalem. It quickly becomes the road to Calvary. It seems right to me that we do not forget what lies ahead. We can live in the tension between jubilation and fear. Because next Sunday after all our betrayal of Holy Week, that joy will return to us – and we will see Him, not as the King of Palm Sunday alone – but as the King who triumphed over death; who ushered in a kingdom like no other; a kingdom of the heart -and a kingdom opened up to all the world! Hosanna!
If I could paint, I would paint a picture of the Lenten trail. I see in my mind’s eye – the lamb of God, holding high the flag of the cross, leading us on toward the summit of our Christian faith. Some of us are weary, some of us are innocent; some with eyes cast down, some with eyes lifted high; some acutely aware of what is to come, and some of us blissfully ignorant. We will falter on this trail, many of us like Peter, determined not to deny Christ, diligent to follow our Savior wherever he leads. But there comes that moment on the path – when for us the rooster crows, and we know we are undone. We reach the hill of Calvary looking for triumph but watch as the unspeakable speaks. – The cry of the crowd echoes in our broken hearts – “Come down! Save yourself!” “O Jesus, be the triumphant One, show your power!”
Yet didn’t we know it wasn’t going to be his strength that would save us? Didn’t we hear John say, “Behold the lamb of God?” Doesn’t Isaiah say – “He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; The chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, And by His scourging we are healed?” (Isa 53:5 NAS) Who is this Jesus? This is God? How can this be? A suffering God?
Yet, we look around at each other – recognizing pain when we see it, because we know pain. We know suffering, some more than others. This is the company we keep – whether that pain is on us, or to us, or in us, we walk this trail with suffering kindred spirits. And so, is this not the God we need, one who knows our weaknesses but also knows our sin, yet never having sinned? I read somewhere that people are not saved through Jesus’ miracles, but through his wounds. All of it, our suffering, our wounds, our sin is gathered up into the indestructible love of God. And so, our Christ is a servant who suffered to the very end.
It’s night now – in fact it’s been dark for so long – We heard that last cry of his. It will probably stay with us until the day we die – that cry that mirrored our own – our fears of being forsaken, spoken by the Lamb who was slain for us. We know now why this had to be. We weep. But I think we know this is not final. If all the things he said about dying were true, then the other things must be true too. Could it be so? I don’t think our Lenten trail ends here. An old preacher once said, (actually he yelled it…) “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s a comin!” I leave you with another image of our journey – we’ve followed the Lamb, we’re weary and frightened and a little beat up. But there’s just something about what that old preacher said. And didn’t Jesus tell us this as well? Sigh, c’mon friends. We’ll do it together.
