Today… a tomb, a door
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(no information on photo)
We listened as did his disciples. He tried to prepare us for the events to come. We experienced the emotional spin of a final meal, a betrayal and anxious hours of waiting.
These minutes seem like years. We walk the dusty road in dis-belief. No sun light, only a sky filled with clouds of anger and heavy hearts. When ‘it is finished’ all is silent.
We hear this deafening silence. All that promised a New Way recedes into a hollowed stone – the grave of our hope sacrificed.
Alone- we stand together. The ashes lay before us. There is no stirring of a Phoenix, no thought of what is to come.
Unlike those nearest Jesus, we know that tomorrow’s sunrise will bring life anew. Yet it is important to stay present to this ‘time in between’. For only on this day can we ask – what impact does tomorrow’s daybreak have on our own faith and witness?
May your reflections bring strength on this Holy Saturday.
The night is dark. Let our fears of the darkness of the world and of our own lives rest in you. The night is quiet. Let the quietness of God’s peace enfold us, all dear to us, and all who have no peace ” (A New Zealand Prayer Book)
This prayer seems oddly fitting for the close of Advent’s first day. We are prepared on this first Sunday to stay alert as the dance between light and darkness swirl in tension before us. In the time of winter when nature’s light wanes, we live in the shroud of night. A time to seek safety and warmth – to hold the promise of light close to our hearts.
Advent is filled with words and images soaked in the hope for morning. God enters this world, lantern held high, calling for all to draw near. A lantern bright enough to shed light on the whole world.
For now we will hear about the coming of this lantern bright- encouraged to live in hope and directed to prepare. Night continues to be dark. May our fears rest in God who is always near. May we look ahead, grateful for the gift of hope and faithful to prepare for the birth of a new day,
I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness for it shows me the stars. Og Mandino
Journeys can be so confusing. Even when we are following a trusted guide, it is not always clear as to where we are going and why. Our expectations need to be re-examined and adjusted.
Entering this Holy Week, I am once again reminded of how life’s journey so often takes unforeseen turns. Throughout all of his ministry, Jesus spoke of the difficult times ahead. As he and his disciples approached Jerusalem for the celebration of Passover, all expectations for true triumph were at their highest point.
How could they know what was to happen? Even though Jesus had told them to prepare for grieving and hardship – how could they have ever imagined the events that were so near? They were filled with memories of miracles and inclusion, inspired by direct teaching and entrusted to be the ambassadors of God’s Good News. Everything pointed toward a new way, supported and encouraged by God’s presence among them.
And… they were right to anticipate a radical shift in living and believing. Through the passage of time, Jesus’ example would continue to inspire and direct the faithful to share, by word and example, another way of living in this world. A way that would raise our attentions to justice and draw our actions to mercy.
But first… Jesus would lead them through a time – dark and tragic. The path on this journey was set. It would be a while before ‘hope’ would lift the darkness and shed the light of faith’s resurrection.
The week has begun. Jerusalem’s gates have welcomed Jesus, his beloved friends and followers. We, too, find ourselves in the mix, with our own expectations. May we be open to unforeseen turns and welcome new revelations.