The End Just Might Not Be the End!

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Pastel art “Resurrection Morning” by James R. C. Martin

“What do you know about Holy Week? You’re Baptist!”

It’s a common question for those who do not understand that Baptists are of many and varied sorts. And some of us Baptists do indeed walk through Holy Week with our soon-to-be crucified Savior. It is a holy walk that I would not want to miss. To miss it, to rush past it without reflection, is to miss the full glory of Christ’s resurrection and our own.

My dear friend, Guy Sayles, writes of the need to “lean in” to the passion of Holy Week.

I have leaned-in to the dramas, paradoxes, betrayals, denials, love, grace, losses and gains which characterize the wild, careening journey from Palm Sunday to Easter. The stories and events of these days reveal so much about the human condition and the divine character.

As for me, I will listen intently this week to the laments of Jesus. I will keep vigil as he prays in Gethsemane. I will try to understand the betrayal he endured. I will witness his arrest. I will cringe at the abuse inflicted upon him. I will hear his cries from the cross asking why God had forsaken him. I will watch him take his last breath. And I will understand all over again that his suffering was for me and for us all.

I will understand all over again that the Christian life is filled with little deaths and big ones, deaths that knock us to our knees, deaths that are a part of living. I will understand all over again that a Christian’s suffering and angst, that most assuredly comes to us, is the necessary preparation for our resurrection. All over again, as I have done for so many Easters, I will understand and celebrate the miracle of my own resurrection, giving thanks to our God of rebirth.

Again, I share Holy Week thoughts written by Guy Sayles.

I’ve particularly come to resonate with the silence of Holy Saturday, a silence in which the shocked grief of disillusionment and death mingle with the wonderment and anticipation that the end might not be the end. Many of our days are like this shadowy Saturday: we’re in-between the worst and the best, the bitterest last and the brightest first. Because of Easter, Saturday bends toward life and hope, and so do our lives.  We sense a shepherd in the shadows and glimmers of light in the darkness.

I hope that each of you will journey through these Holy Week days and experience both the bitterness and the brightness. Most assuredly, the message of Resurrection Sunday is about new life and hope, rebirth and resurrection, the glorious reality that the end just might not be the end. Thanks be to God.

How Do You Live When You Know What’s Coming?

ABD2C8E4-5AA9-49EC-B771-A85BCDFBBD90How do you live when you know what’s coming? Jesus might have asked himself that question when the crowds were shouting “Hosanna!” and making a big deal of the fact that he was riding into town on a donkey. The Gospel of Mark tells the story well.

Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields.

Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Blessed is the coming kingdom of our ancestor David! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

Then he entered Jerusalem and went into the temple; and when he had looked around at everything, as it was already late, he went out to Bethany with the twelve.

— Mark 11:8-11 New International Version

So how do you live when you know what’s coming? Jesus went to the temple as was his custom and then set off to Bethany with his disciples. He knew what was coming, yet he did nothing very earth shattering. He sent his disciples into the city to prepare for for the Passover meal they would share. They ate the meal together, Jesus told then they would all desert him, and each one declared that they would never do such a thing.

They did. But life went on as life does. The Gospel then continues the sorrow-filled story as Jesus goes on with his disciples to a place called Gethsemane.

. . . And Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.”

He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated.
And said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.”

And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.”

He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter, “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep awake one hour? Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him.

He came a third time and said to them, “Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners.

Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.”

Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; and with him there was a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, “The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.”

So when he came, he went up to him at once and said, “Rabbi!” and kissed him.

Then they laid hands on him and arrested him.

— Mark 14:33-46 New Internation Versioned

So now life is earth shattering for Jesus. How do you live when you know what’s coming?

Right now in deep Lent, this is a question we probably should ask. I don’t know about you, but as for me, I know what’s coming, at least some of what’s coming. There’s aging and illness, separation from children and grandchildren, the inevitable loss of loved ones, waning energy and more loss of independence. It happens to persons of a certain age. What’s coming for me includes things that are not so positive.So how do I live when I know what’s coming?

The preacher in me wants to offer a religious platitude that minimizes the troubling reality and lifts up abiding hope. The preacher in me wants to proclaim with a great deal of passion that all will be well. The preacher in me wants to declare that whatever happens to me, God will be glorified.

How do I live when I know what’s coming?

Right smack dab through the middle of it! Living strong in the face of fear. Holding tightly to hope. Summoning my inner courage. Standing steady through the winds of change, depending on the inner resilience that has always sustained me. That’s how I live in the days I have left in this world.

But, by the way, there really is a religious word that upholds and sustains me. The preacher in me is still alive and well, so I can proclaim with great certainty the comforting truth I find in my favorite passage of scripture

You have searched me, O God,
and you know me. You know whenI sit down and when I rise;

You perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways . .

You hem me in behind and before, you protect me, and you lay your hand upon me.

Such knowledge is too wonderful, too lofty for me to comprehend.

Where can I go from your Spirit?
Where can I flee from your presence?

If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.

If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there shall your hand guide me and your right hand will hold me fast.

— Psalm 139:1-10 New International Version (paraphrased)

With that sacred promise and with the strength that has grown in me over many years, I really do know how to live when I know what’s coming. Thanks be to God.

Pay Attention

Design

Pay attention. Pay very close attention. For the day we call Good Friday brings us face-to-face with the trial, crucifixion, death and burial of Christ. We are placed within the awesome mystery of the extreme humility of a suffering God. This day is at once a day of deep gloom as well as a day of watchful expectation, because the Author of life is at work transforming death into life: “Come, let us see our Life lying in the tomb, that he may give life to those that in their tombs lie dead.” (Sticheron of Great Saturday Orthros)

Christ’s death is the final and ultimate revelation of His perfect love. He suffered the excruciating pain of absolute alienation when he cried out to God, “My God, my God, why hast Thou forsaken Me!” (Mark 15:34). And finally, Jesus accepted the ultimate horror of death with the agonizing cry, “It is finished” (John 19:30).

In my memories of what we called Great and Holy Friday in the Greek Orthodox Church, I understood, even as a child, that the profound event of the death and burial of God in Christ Jesus was marked by an eerie kind of silence. There was no eucharistic celebration. In fact, Great Friday and Great Saturday are the only two days of the year when no eucharistic gathering is held.

On Great and Holy Friday, we commemorate the sufferings of Christ: the mockery, the crown of thorns, the scourging, the nails, the thirst, the vinegar and gall, the cry of desolation, and all that the Savior endured on the Cross. The Friday afternoon Vespers left an indelible mark as I remember the un-nailing of Christ from the Cross and the placement of His body in the tomb.

Great and Holy Friday. Pay attention!

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

– Isaiah 53:4-5 King James Version (KJV)

Pay attention.

Pay attention to what goes on around you and within you. Pay attention to the water on your feet and the roughness of the towel in your hand. Pay attention to the softness of the bread and the sting of the wine in your throat. Pay attention to the brusqueness of the kiss and the splinters of the cross. Pay attention to the coldness of the tomb and the terror that clutches your heart. Pay attention to the brightness of the dawning light and the life that bursts forth.

– Br. James Koester
Society of Saint John the Evangelist

Palms and Passion

Design

The Sunday of Palm and Passion — a significant day for Christian hearts. Yes, we celebrate the entry of Jesus into Jerusalem with voices of joy, “Hosanna! Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” Palms wave in the air and our worship is filled with anticipation.

But we must also anticipate the Passion that is to come, the suffering of Jesus that leads to the crucifixion. We cherish an upbeat Gospel reading that leads us to celebrate Jesus’ triumphal entry into Jerusalem. To be sure, it is a festive affair, complete with a parade route strewn with palm branches. But we quickly progress to the stark reading of Jesus’ passion, bearable only because we already know its ending of new life.

The city that echoed with cheering during the grand parade was a city that, in just a few days, echoed with hatred. The tide had turned. Cries of “Hosanna” turned to shouts of a very different kind: “Crucify him!”

On this Sunday, we must remember the palms and then we must move our hearts into the passion. We must let our hearts rejoice, and then be filled with grief. Palms and Passion — that is the complete Gospel.

Walter Brugemann says it like this:

We cannot leap from Palm Sunday to Easter. We have to go day by day through the week of denial and betrayal to the Last Supper to arrest and trial and execution. That is the only road to Easter, and that is our work this week.

A Prayer for this Day and the Week of Christ’s Passion

Blessed are you, Holy God, for in Jesus Christ you came to rule in our lives, not as a king, but as a humble servant, riding on a donkey on dusty roads’ amidst people shouting “Hosanna!” Enter into our hearts this day with your glory, that we may greet you with shouts of praise.

God Most High, gracious and glorious, blessed is the one who comes in your name. May we follow with faithfulness and joy, shouting “Hosanna in the highest heaven.”

Lead us now, Holy God, on the road to the cross that we may remember that when Jesus cried and breathed his last you tore away the ancient curtain
between heaven and earth, life and death.

As we turn now to face the cross, show us Jesus, in all his suffering, and console us as we experience Christ’s grief and our own.

Lord God, almighty, all-merciful, how great is your love
that you went down to the depths for us: into suffering, sin, and shame,
into darkness, despair, and death.

Now we ask, O God, that you help us to pave the way for your eternal realm
with our prayer and praise,
with our service and love,
until the very stones cry out at the coming of your new creation;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

 

– Prayer based on Matthew 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:28-40; Mark 14:1—15:47; Matthew 26:14–27:66.