by Joy Lenton
On the cross
brought down to dust
his body pierced and soul crushed
never more alone
trapped in the deepest darkness
no wriggle room on the cross
his weakened voice
cries out nevertheless
to the Father
desolation reigns supreme
in this hour becoming sin
his heart broken
as his father turns away
cannot look at him
at his glorious Son
ingloriously undone
the skies weep
the darkness closes in
like a curse
as heaven watches, waits
with tears and bated breath
it is finished
groans and silent sighs escape
they rent the air
as dividing curtain tears
heaven’s rejoicing occurs
© joylenton
way of the cross image by Falco @pixabay.com
Reading
“For three hours, beginning at noon, darkness came over the earth. And at three o’clock Jesus shouted with a mighty voice in Aramaic, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?”—that is, “My God, My God, why have you deserted me?’ Some who were standing near the cross misunderstood and said, ‘He’s calling for Elijah.’ One bystander ran and got a sponge, soaked it with sour wine, then put it on a stick and held it up for Jesus to drink. But the rest said, ‘Leave him alone! Let’s see if Elijah comes to rescue him.’ Jesus passionately cried out, took his last breath, and gave up his spirit.” — Matthew 27:45-50 TPT
Reflection
The enormity of the cross of Christ hits us afresh whenever we read the bible passages that relate the ordeal that it was. Films that depict every gory detail of Christ’s physical suffering are usually too painful to watch. Each year, we are reminded of it during the season of Lent, for our faith rests on the cross.
The suffering of Christ is what sets us free from sin. We’re freed from its penalty because he took it on himself instead. We’ve been set free from guilt and shame, and freed to live as God intends us to. The wonder of it all never ceases.
Prayer
Suffering Saviour,
We are apt to focus most on the physical aspects of your crucifixion, but the spiritual and relational agony you suffered from are no less painful. Prior to coming to earth, you enjoyed deep intimacy with your Father. You were so closely entwined—as you are now—with him that you share his holiness and deity.
As God’s only begotten Son, voluntary giving up your position in heaven was a huge sacrifice to make. Yet you yielded, surrendered willingly to this temporary loss, though you communicated as closely as before. Until that moment on the cross when holy Father God could not look at his sin-bearing Son. Then finally… the rejoicing came. And we rejoice, too, knowing what happened next.
Amen
*This post has been extracted from Joy’s book Experiencing Lent: Sensing the Sacred in Our Midst, which is now available on Amazon.*
Feature photo above by congerdesign @pixabay.com, poem piece by © joylenton
More Holy Week and Easter Resources here!
by April Yamasaki,
“When you care enough to send the very best.” – Hallmark Cards
When I choose a greeting card to send to someone, I don’t choose the card with the corner already torn off. The card might get roughed up as it goes through the postal system, but I at least want to start with one that looks unspoiled. If I bake cookies for someone, I eat the broken ones myself first and pack up the good ones for gift-giving. I don’t give away the crumbs.
When it comes to giving to God, we might tend to have the same attitude. After all, Scripture speaks of sacrificing the unblemished lamb, of giving our first fruits to God, not our leftovers. Churches often encourage volunteers to use their gifts, to contribute their talents, to give the first and the best that they have in service to God.
But in Psalm 51, the psalmist offers God a different kind of gift:
My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart
you, God, will not despise. (v. 17)
In the Psalms, the word “heart” rarely means the heart of muscle and blood that beats in each one of us. Instead, the word “heart” means the inner person, our inner thoughts, our will, our character. So my heart is the thought, the will, the character, the self that I am inside. My heart makes me who I am, and your heart makes you who you are. Our heart is what makes us human, what makes us unique individuals.
In Psalm 51, the heart—the inner person—that pleases God is described in the New International Version as “a broken and contrite heart.” In the original Hebrew language, the word for “contrite” is literally the word “crushed”: a crushed heart, O God, you will not despise.
In this case, the psalmist’s heart was crushed and broken by sin. “I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me” (v. 3). “Against you, you only, have I sinned and done what is evil in your sight” (v. 4). Sin not only breaks our relationship with God and can hurt our relationships with other people, but sin can also break us.
There are many other things in life that can also crush our hearts and break us. Some describe feeling broken by the isolation and loss that are part of this time of covid. In a time of pandemic and at many other times, our hearts—our lives—are not whole and at their best. Many times our lives are broken—crushed by disappointments and anxiety, by failed relationships or failed finances, by physical or mental ill health, marred by sin and unresolved issues, fragmented by too many commitments and too little time and resources to meet them.
But when our lives seem to be in pieces from disappointment or doubt or the daily push and pull of life, when we feel crushed and broken for whatever reason, we don’t need to pretend that all is well. We don’t need to hide that part of ourselves from God. We don’t need to feel that we’re not good enough for God or that we have nothing to offer.
Because while God delights in the offering of our first fruits and in the best we have to offer, God welcomes us just as gladly and just as graciously when all we have to bring is our brokenness. For the gift of a broken heart, you, God will not despise.
Thanks for the photo above, dae jeung kim from Pixabay.
More Holy Week and Easter Resources here!
guest post by Bettina Schuller,
Not too many years ago, I was sitting in my usual meditation place, ready to practice Centering Prayer, when my daughter Sophia came in and said, “I’m leaving.” The words, “Bye, have fun!” were on my lips when I caught myself and stopped at “Bye…” Sophia was going to a memorial service for her 17-year old-friend and last year’s prom date, Pat.
Pat was hit by a car while crossing a street in St. Pete Beach. He and his friends had rented a room together in St. Pete Beach to celebrate the beginning of their last spring break in High School. His friends, who had been waiting for him at a restaurant across the street, saw his body lying in the street…
What parting words do you have for your daughter when she is going to a memorial service for a friend she sat next to in sixth period at school, who won’t be sitting there on Monday? How do you talk to your 17-year-old about the death of her friend? How do you bring God into this event? Where is God in the death of a young boy about to leave for college?
While Sophia was at the memorial service, I sat in silence and prayed and held all of the grieving kids and especially Pat’s parents up to God’s care… That was the only way I knew how to practice the presence of God at that moment and how to feel connected to a God who I know is loving.
I don’t like God’s timing and I don’t understand why a 17-year-old boy who has always been kind and considerate to everybody had to die. I don’t understand it but I know by faith that God is in all of life and God is also with us in death.
Although I know that God is in all of life and the Holy is in all events of life, can I see the death of a teenager as holy and see the presence of God in it? Definitely not!
I am not one of the people who could say to the parents that their son was “called to be back home with God” or that it was “his time to go home” or that “God is taking care of him.” I still question God and ask “WHY? Why God, why does a 17-year-old boy have to die?”
My friend Runelle’s daughter, Margaret, was murdered by Ted Bundy in 1978.
When I first met Runelle and she told me about her daughter’s death, I could not believe my ears when she said that God has blessed her with feeling no hatred toward the murderer of her daughter. When we met for lunch one day, I asked Runelle how she had kept her faith in God. “Jack [her husband] and I realized that there was no acceptable alternative than to go on with our lives. God’s grace, many prayers offered for us, and counseling gave us the strength to carry on; God was with us every moment.”
God was with us every moment, wrote a woman who lost her daughter to the cruelest murder I can imagine. Even after the tragic death of her daughter, Runelle kept her deep faith and knew God’s love and healing was present.
My friend Runelle died this past weekend and I know by faith that God’s healing has occurred. Runelle, her husband Jack and their daughter Margaret are in paradise together. “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in paradise.” Luke 22:43
Ann Douglas and her son Frederick John Cox in July 2001
My friend Ann’s son, Freddy, died at the age of 27 in the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Center. His favorite quote was, “Do what you love; love what you do!” Though Freddy’s life was taken at a tragically young age, he spent his years truly living! He celebrated each day and turned adversity into opportunity for growth.
I was blessed to be part of Ann’s grieving and healing journey. Ann shared with me that she never looked at any images of 9-11 or at Ground Zero. When Ground Zero was completely cleared one year later, she went to New York to see where her son, whose first breath she witnessed, breathed his last breath. She created a foundation in his honor, and published the childhood story she told him as a boy, as a children’s book.
Ann says, “ I learned so many lessons and new ways to get closer to God, as I travel the road of grief and forgiveness. As for losing my son… I have no words. But today my best prayer is, ‘Dear God, show me what you want me to do, because I really want to do it. Amen.'”
Ann recorded a 5 min video to share her healing journey and to let you know that God is with you no matter what happens in life. Healing, even from the death of a beloved child, is possible with God! Please click on the link below to watch Ann tell her healing story:
Bio for Bettina Schuller
Bettina Schuller is a spiritual seeker on the journey into the heart of God and a joyful life! A certified spiritual director, certified life coach, teacher and author of This is Living! Practicing the Presence of God, her passion and purpose in life is accompanying spiritual seekers on their spiritual journey and sharing her love for Contemplative spirituality.
- If you would like to know more about my ministry, please go to bettinaschuller.com
- Please join my Facebook group: This is Living. Practicing the Presence of God.
- You can find my book: This is Living. Practicing the Presence of God. A Prayer and Mediation Guide for Daily Life on Amazon.
Photos by Ann Douglas, used with permission.
More Holy Week and Easter Resources here!
post and all photos by Jean Andrianoff,
“Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” Hebrews 11:1 (ESV)
On this bright, sunny day, it’s easy to feel the hope of spring. Though the air is brisk, my daffodils have sprouted, a carpet of primroses is blooming, and our forsythia bush is spreading its sunshine. But I also noticed another sure sign of spring—alder catkins.
Catkins are strange, caterpillar-like flowers. According to Wikipedia, “A catkin or ament is a slim, cylindrical flower cluster, with inconspicuous or no petals . . . flowers arranged closely along a central stem that is often drooping.” Thousands of catkins hang from our alder trees, an indication that spring is on the way.
photo by Jean Andrianoff
To me, catkins are a sign of something yet to come, something not yet seen. The catkins appear on the trees first; leaves follow. We enjoy daffodils and forsythia for their own beauty; we appreciate the catkins as indications that something better is coming. They remind me of the definition of faith in Hebrews: “the assurance of things hoped for.” When I see catkins on the alder trees, I know that soon the trees will sprout with fresh, green leaves. Spring, then summer, will follow the bleakness and cold of winter.
At this time of year, we look forward with hope to the seasonal change that God has promised will continue “while the earth remains” (Genesis 8:22). We also anticipate Easter and the hope of resurrection. Just as Christ has been raised, so may we expect to be made alive. For the believer, life follows death, just as spring follows winter. We haven’t yet experienced it for ourselves, but we have the word of reliable witnesses that Jesus rose again and His promise that “Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live.” (John 11:26 – ESV)
The evidence of things to come, like the catkins, and our experience that God has kept His promise of sending the seasons in their order, reassures us during Lent that Easter is coming. At some point, death will come to each of us (unless the Lord returns first), but resurrection will follow.
photo by Jean Andrianoff
photo by Jean Andrianoff
Check out another post for today by Lucinda Smith called “My Cross“. Truly a great reflection for Holy Week!
Last Day of the Prayer Card Sale!
EASTER. It is that time of year, again.
We will all, no doubt, follow Jesus on His journey from entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday to the crucifixion, five days later, on Golgotha, just outside that same city. As with the Christmas story, we can be over familiar with its details, and in our presumption, it is possible to miss what God might want us to see.
…‘Then he said to them all: “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me”. (Luke 9:23)
What does taking up our cross look like for me, for you? We know that we won’t physically have to bear the weight of a wooden cross, heavy and roughly hewn, so cumbersome and awkward to carry. We will not be publicly crucified and are unlikely to be put to death.
As I ponder His cross and see what took Him there, I glimpse the possibility of what mine might also look like – the jealousy of others, the criticisms, misunderstandings and betrayal. Jesus was judged wrongly amidst the mistaken expectations of those who knew Him and of those who knew Him not.
With this I can identify – these, I have dealt with before, very occasionally, well with mercy and patience, but more often than not, with anger and outrage. Triggered pain from unhealed wounds, lying deep and dormant, rushes up to greet me and the onslaught reminds me that I am broken. I lash out. I expose the weakness of others in order to feel better about myself. I defend and justify my actions and my words. These violent scenarios more often than not, play out in my head, but nonetheless, this is my indignant and very real reaction, whether real or imagined.
But Jesus did not need to defend Himself; He did not have to justify His actions or His words; Jesus could remain silent. He was the perfect Son, so secure in the affection of His Abba Daddy – so confident in the good, good will of the Father, so rooted and grounded in the love of God, that there was no need to say even a word.
‘I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you’ (John 14:18)
His coming to me has changed everything and yes, even my orphan tendencies are gradually diminishing as I embrace sonship, but they still rise up from time to time. They hit me in the face and surprise me when I least expect it – this then is my cross – to bear with grace and humility the process of death to self. Dying to the right to be heard, to be loved, to be acknowledged, to be seen, to be significant.
For me, it is a hard and torturous road, but certainly far less so than the road so beautifully walked by the Son of God.
Thanks to Wesley Tingey @wesleyphotography for making this feature photo available freely on Unsplash.
More Holy Week and Easter Resources here!
by Christine Sine
Last week, I started working on a new contemplative garden; this one with the theme “Waiting for Love”.
It all began last week when I was thinking about how much hate there is in our world. I was weeping for the Asian American women killed in Atlanta, the huge loss of black lives from violence and brutality, the animosity towards those at the Mexican border trying to come into the U.S. for a better way of life and towards those who have different political or religious views; even towards those who still wear masks. Then there was the shooting in Boulder, Colorado. The list goes on and on and I know that it is not just here in the U.S. that we are experiencing such animosity.
Just planted Waiting for Love contemplative garden (c)Christine Sine
My heart aches, too, for the Christians caught up in this web of hatred and I think of our great God whose love embraces every single one of us. It’s time to love, I thought, and what better time to proclaim and demonstrate that love than at Easter. So I decided to create this new garden. The heart shaped stones create a path to the cross, to the tomb and out into the world. I sprinkled wildflower seed over it and every day eagerly look at my garden to see what has sprouted.
Detail Waiting for Love contemplative garden (c)Christine Sine
What struck me this morning as I smiled over my garden and the sprouts growing rapidly towards the light, even in some cases pushing up around my stones – I am looking not for signs of death, but of life. Easter is about the incredible love of God, not the death of Christ. That reminded me of two of my favourite gospel passages:
16 For God expressed His love for the world in this way: He gave His only Son so that whoever believes in Him will not face everlasting destruction, but will have everlasting life. 17 Here’s the point. God didn’t send His Son into the world to judge it; instead, He is here to rescue a world headed toward certain destruction.
16 We know what true love looks like because of Jesus. He gave His life for us, and He calls us to give our lives for our brothers and sisters.
17 If a person owns the kinds of things we need to make it in the world but refuses to share with those in need, is it even possible that God’s love lives in him? 18 My little children, don’t just talk about love as an idea or a theory. Make it your true way of life, and live in the pattern of gracious love.
My garden speaks to me of the deep love of the eternal God of our universe who gave a son to live and die so that we might have life, just as my seeds have died and lived again to find life. But that is not where the story ends. Jesus life, death and resurrection gave us an incredible example of what the deep love of God looks like, but asks in return that we don’t just talk about love but that we “make love our true way of life”.
Growing towards love
What is your response?
Find something heart shaped to hold in your hand this week, or else, draw a heart on a piece of paper, cut it out and place it in your hand. Reflect on the love of God and the life, death and resurrection of Christ. Now reflect on your own life. What might God be asking you to put to death this week so that you can more fully make love your true way of life in the Easter season?
Gift of Wonder, Breath, and Celtic Prayer cards on sale now until March 30th!
I am so appreciative of these contemplative services with music in the style-of-Taize for Palm Sunday from St Andrews Episcopal Church in Seattle. I hope you enjoy this week’s as much as I did.
A contemplative service with music in the style-of-Taize for Palm Sunday. Carrie Grace Littauer, prayer leader, with music by Kester Limner and Andy Myers.
Permission to podcast/stream the music in this service obtained from One License with license #A-710-756 with additional notes below:
“Even in Sorrow” was composed by Kester Limner in March 2020 for the people of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church in Seattle, shared under the Creative Commons License, Attribution (CC-BY).
“Rabboni Beloved” is by Kester Limner and Andy Myers, shared under the Creative Commons License, Attribution (CC-BY).
“Were You There (When They Crucified My Lord)” is a traditional Black American Spiritual in the public domain. Arrangement by Kester Limner, shared under the Creative Commons license, attribution (CC-BY).
“Lord Be With Us” is a Kyrie composed by Kester Limner, shared under the Creative Commons License, Attribution (CC-BY).
“Stay With Me” – is a song from the Taize community. Arranged by Kester Limner and Andy Myers with words and music by J. Berthier, copyright 1982 by GIA/Les Presses de Taizé.
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