Some of you may have noticed that I have not been posting much in the last few days. I have been laid low with one of the worst cases of flu I have had for a long time. Definitely ready for a season of resurrection. The fact that Seattle’s weather has been bursting with warmth and sunlight has certainly helped. And the daffodils, tulips and flowering shrubs are magnificent. The spirit of resurrection is definitely in the air.
Much of my reflections in the last couple of days have revolved not around Easter Sunday but around Easter Saturday. It has never really occurred to me before that this day was the Sabbath, the day that all Jewish people saw as a celebration of God’s new order. Yet for Christ’s followers there would have been no celebration that Easter Saturday. Their expectations of a new kingdom in which God’s people reigned triumphantly had been shattered. Their hope for the restoration of Israel had not become a reality.
What was very hard for Christ’s followers to realize is that God was doing something totally new. They were expecting restoration of the old order of things. God was bringing resurrection and a totally new order into being. In some ways the disciples still hankered after the fleshpots of Egypt. They were hoping for the establishment of an kingdom that looked very much like the roman empire only with them in power. God was bringing a totally new kingdom into being – a kingdom in which justice and righteousness reigns, in which the poor are fed and the captives set free, in which the sick are healed and abundance comes for all people.
How often do I miss the ways of God because I am looking for restoration of the old rather than resurrection of something totally new? How often do I cling to old expectations and struggle to embrace the new ways of God? In some ways I feel that our whole world is in this situation at the moment. The economic and political turmoil of these last few years are giving birth to something new but we are still hoping to go back to the old. And unfortunately much of the new is not good news for those who really need to see a new world of justice and abundance come either.
In the last few years the gap between the richest and poorest people has grown in most wealthy countries, but particularly in the U.S. In some ways even more concerning, the education gap has also grown meaning that poor people are less and less likely to be able to move out of poverty. we see the same trends in health too and those who live in communities of poverty in the US and UK can expect to live 10 years less than their more wealthy neighbours.
So my question this is Easter season is not so much how will I view the resurrection but how will I enable others to enter into resurrection life? The celebrations of the Sabbath day called for rest and provision for all – people and animals alike – because this was seen as a preview of God’s coming world in which all creation would be provided for. We are still a long way from that day. What will we do in this season of resurrection to help bring it into being?
The following list is the entire series of our guest posts for the Lenten Series 2012. Enjoy!
U2′s Easter Anthem Window in the Skies – post by Lee Wyatt
Thin Space – A Reflection by Paula Mitchell
Depression and the Living God – Lenten Series
Lent, again – By Jim Schmotzer
Lenting Fasting; Easter Feasting – By Rachel Stone
Content with Our Daily Bread, But Thirsty for Tomorrow’s Wine…by tracy Dickerson
Re-Placing Holy Week – towards A Public + Local Liturgy by Brandon Rhodes
Hunger – By Melanie Clark Pullen
Longing For Green Pastures – A Lenten Reflection by Kimberlee Conway Ireton
The Long Strange Journey of Lent is Almost Over – John Leech
Its Time To Go Back to the Desert – A Reflection by Martha Hopler
Hungering and Thirsting After Righteousness – By Thomas Turner
Gil, Lent, and Ordinary Time – By Gil George
Identity, Intimacy, and Impact – Part 2
Identity, Intimacy, and Impact – Part 1 – By AnaYelsi Sanchez
Creating Space, Seeing Truth – By James Prescott
L’église est fermée — By Greg Valerio
Justice: What Loves Look Like in Public – by Kathy Escobar
Where are We Following Jesus To?
Imagining the Lectionary: Wild and unrelenting – By Dave Perry
Walk On – U2′s Lenten Anthem
What Do We Hunger and Thirst For? – By Sean Gladding
A Lenten Reflection – By Steve Kimes
Christian Discipleship: Lent Is A Time To Receive – By Theresa Froehlich
Locked In, But Not Locked Out — By Joy Wilson
What Do We Hunger & Thirst For? By Sue Duby
A Lifestyle of Enough by Eugene Cho
Hungering and Thirsting for God by Steve Wickham
Ash Wednesday – Mourning the Death Sin Has Caused in Our Lives
This morning’s post in the series Easter is Coming: What Do We Hunger and Thirst For? was written by an anonymous contributor.
—
I don’t hunger and thirst for much. I just hunger and thirst to escape depression. There,
I’ve said it. But I’m not able to add my name to this statement. I need to be anonymous.
I am a middle-aged pastor of a suburban congregation of around 150-160. Every week I
stand and declare that Jesus forgives our sins and restores us to life. Yet I am bound by
pain which reaches back into my infant past, pain that I have only just become aware of
through therapy, pain that I have not yet faced—and fear to face even now.
I have grown up being driven to ‘repair’ the world, to ‘make a difference’, trying to make it
better so that others don’t suffer the way I do. I fear I have mixed that up with what it
means to be a Christian, and to be a pastor. When I fail, there is a kind of voice within my
my therapist calls the ‘savage god’ who accuses me of being—wait for it—less than
perfect. I have confused that voice with the Living God. Sometimes the only thing that
protects me from suicidal thoughts is a sense of compassion I can find within myself for
those with whom I could be rightfully angry with. I would dearly like to find ‘rest for my
soul’.
I see a therapist several times a week. I take antidepressants at the maximum dose. I
pray. I believe. I love my congregation, and I have the good fortune to pastor a supportive,
wonderful community. The people know I suffer with depression, because I’ve spoken
about it from the pulpit. It seemed important for me to do so to help fellow-sufferers who
felt shame for their illness. Yet only a few know how much I suffer; I want to protect the
congregation. I want them to know the freedom that is theirs in Christ. In fact, when I lead
worship I do feel like the burden is lifted for a while. I find that I can step outside the
constrictions of the pain I feel and be with the people. I don’t mean that I’m overly
demonstrative, just that I know that inner freedom for a time and my smile is genuine.
I don’t think I’m living a lie. My problem isn’t authenticity, it’s just pain that has dogged me
since the nursery.
I’m sure there will be others posting in this series who want justice and peace for all. So do
I, and so does my community. I want the kingdom of God to come. I know it is here now, in
the midst of my pain, our pain. I know that in Bonhoeffer’s great words, ‘only a suffering
God can help’ and I take comfort in that. I know Christ’s strength is in my weakness. I just
want to feel it all the way through.
This Lent, I expect to put one foot in front of the other and walk towards Holy Week and
the Triduum. I rejoice at the destination of the Empty Tomb. But I fear there’s still quite a bit
of me mouldering in that tomb, and I hunger and thirst for it to live.
Today we walk with Christ in the dark shadow of the cross,
Knowing we have weighed him down,
Our burdens crushed his shoulders,
His suffering is for us,
For us he willingly endured death.
Let us trust in God alone,
And walk the way of the cross together,
Let us move forward without fear into God’s eternal purposes.
Then we will never know disgrace,
And we will learn to praise our God who never abandons us.
In the midst of grief and despair,
Let us see that without darkness nothing is birthed,
Without light nothing will blossom and flower.
May we sense Easter springtime coming,
Death’s dark and overwhelming night will give way to resurrection life.
Let us throw off our grave clothes,
And all the weights that hold us down,
Looking and listening for signs of resurrection life,
Let us take on the life of the one who raised Christ from the dead.
And respond to the Spirit of God who lives within us.
(Silence)
Lord have mercy,
When we stand in the shadow of the cross.
Christ have mercy,
When we kneel with repentant hearts.
Lord have mercy,
And shine your resurrection light on us.
Read John 18:1 – 19:42
God as we walk through this day may we remember,
Beyond sin there is love inexhaustible,
Beyond death there is life unimaginable,
Beyond brokenness there is forgiveness incomprehensible,
Beyond betrayal there is grace poured out eternally,
May we remember and give thanks for the wonder of your love.
Each year I also post resources for Holy Week. These were last updated in 2014
Resources for Maundy Thursday:
Resources for Celebrating Holy Week With Kids:
You may also like to look at prayers I have written for Good Friday in previous years
The traditional hymn for Palm Sunday is All Glory Laud and Honor. I love to parade around the church waving palm fronds and singing these beautiful words. I thought that those of you who are unfamiliar with this hymn might appreciate this version with the lyrics provided. And for those of us that are familiar with it there is never any harm in getting a little practice.
This post on Palm Sunday is an adaptation of posts I have written in previous years. I am reblogging it here because I feel that it is very appropriate for the theme of this year’s Lenten series What Do We Hunger and Thirst For? It particularly came to mind after I read my husband Tom’s post for Saturday Thirsting for Justice in a Society of Growing Inequality and the comment by Joe Carson, one of the co-ordinators for the Occupy EPA rally.
I suggest you should connect the “hunger and thirst for righteousness” with “suffering for righteousness’ sake” in the ways the privileged Christians who read your blog will most likely find opportunities to do so – related to their vocations.
But that is, in my experience, a “red line” Christian religious professionals will not cross, because the “blowback” from the pew sitters could well leave them saying “would you like fries with that?” in their next job.
The message of Jesus was always subversive, and no more so than on that day that he entered into Jerusalem.
———-
This coming Sunday is Palm Sunday the beginning of Holy week. Many of our churches are busy making palm frond crosses or preparing for a Palm Sunday procession around the church. Stores are full of Easter eggs and hot crossed buns, trying to divert our attention from the real meaning of Easter to their commercialized version of it. And how many of us are sucked in? What is the focus of your thoughts as we head towards Holy week – is it on the life, death and resurrection of Christ or is it on the upcoming Easter egg hunt and your new spring outfit? Most of us know that this day commemorates Jesus triumphant procession into Jerusalem on donkey’s back but few of us are aware of the deeper and very subversive implications of this event.
Palm Sunday gives a preview of Jesus Messiahship and the advent of God’s kingdom of wholeness and abundance. What many of us don’t realize is that there were actually two processions into Jerusalem on that Palm Sunday morning – one that symbolized the Roman culture of Jesus day and the other Jesus proclaiming his upside down kingdom.
According to Borg and Crossan’s important book The Last Week (2007), it is probable that there were two processions going on into Jerusalem on that day. In the year 30, Pontius Pilate was the Roman governor assigned to Judea and Jerusalem. It had become the custom of the governors to live outside Jerusalem, but it was also their custom to come with their soldiers to Jerusalem for Passover. To provide a very visible and powerful Roman military presence at that volatile time, to prevent any potential uprising, for there are already been uprisings and many crucifixions.
His procession would have come from the west at the head of a column of imperial cavalry and soldiers – an impressive and lavish procession specially designed to impress the people with a visual display of imperial power: cavalry on horses, foot soldiers, leather armor, helmets, weapons, banners, golden eagles mounted on poles, sun glinting on metal and gold.
On the other side of the city, down from the Mount of Olives in the north came Jesus and his humble procession – no pomp, no ceremony, dressed simply like the people, riding on the back of a donkey and followed by his disciples drawn from amongst the peasants and the common people. I can imagine the lepers he had healed and the once blind man dancing and rejoicing with him. And there is Lazarus with Mary and Martha a living symbol of the triumph that this procession represents.
Here was the truly triumphant procession and the true rejoicing of the season. Jesus and his friends were greeted with cheers and shouts by crowds all along his path. “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna!”
Much of what Jesus’ life and teaching was about was the conflict of the kingdom of God with the empire of Rome. Theologically and politically. The Romans believed their emperor was to be worshipped as the son of God, the savior of humankind.
When Jesus rode into Jerusalem and his followers acknowledged him as Lord and Messiah, this was not only a personal theological statement but a political statement as well. Jesus’ belief in a liberating, inclusive, non-violent, peace-seeking kingdom of God was over and against the oppressive, greedy, elite-loving, peasant-starving kingdom of Rome. No wonder his was so angry with the Temple hierarchy – the chief priest, the elders and the scribes – who had become servants of the empire and not of the kingdom of God.
Jesus’ ride into Jerusalem was obviously headed for a collision with the powerful Roman empire – collision that would cost his life and change history forever. Jesus triumphal entry into Jerusalem may have begun with crowds shouting Hosanna but it ends with Good Friday and the apparent triumph of the powers of the Roman Empire and of Satan. It does not end with a gold crown but with a crown of thorns. Jesus’ triumphal entry ends with his willingness to take into himself all the pain and suffering of our world so that together we can celebrate the beginning of a new procession on Easter Sunday – a procession that leads us into God’s banquet feast and the wonder of God’s eternal world.
The question for all of us as we approach this Palm Sunday and enter into the celebration of Easter is: Where is our allegiance? Where do we find ourselves in these pictures? Are we part of that ragamuffin discipleship band following Jesus fully aware that we are on a collision course with the values of our secular culture? Are we some of the misguided enthusiasts, cheering our own idea of a messiah, that looks more like the Roman emperor than the humble Jesus? Are we enamoured by an idea that has little to do with what Jesus has come to teach? Do we only want to follow a Jesus when we think he promises health and happiness here and now? Have we so misunderstood him and his purpose and that we are ready to turn against him when he turns out not to be who we thought he was?
Perhaps however, we’re not part of Jesus’ procession at all. Perhaps we’re standing at the other gate, cheering for the symbols of empire. Dazzled by power, attracted to wealth, wanting to identify with the victors, not the vanquished, hoping to be counted as one of the elites of our time.
Actually most of us are probably part of both processions – wanting to follow this Jesus whom we find so don’t fully understand but also caught up in the excitement of Easter egg hunts and spring fashion displays.
And the beauty is that Jesus, in his humanity, sees and knows all of us. . . the flawed humanity that surrounds him. . . the flawed humanity of each of us. . . and he sees it and he forgives it, and loves us, and gives his blessing to all of us as he clops along the dusty road toward his confrontation with power, his time of trial, his abandonment, his death.
Let us enter the city with God today,
And sing hosannas to our king,
Let us turn our backs on the powers that grasp and control,
And open our hearts to the son of God riding on a donkey.
Let us join his parade,
Surrounded by outcasts and prostitutes, the blind and the leper.
Let us follow the one who brought freedom and peace,
And walk in solidarity with the abandoned and oppressed.
Let us shout for joy at Christ’s coming and join his disciples,
Welcoming the broken, healing the sick, dining with outcasts.
Let us touch and see as God draws near,
Riding in triumph towards the Cross
This morning’s reflection for the series: What Do We Hunger and Thirst For? is a repost from the Bethlehem Blogger. I could not get these images out of my mind this morning and felt that they were compelling images for us to meditate on as we walk with Jesus towards the Cross.
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