Holy Saturday is a day of waiting. It’s a day to spend some time contemplating and praying and most of all watching with those who are suffering, whether physically, mentally, spiritually, or emotionally.
You know I’m not a literalist, but I guess I’m not sure how to solve that one. I only know not to call Jewish folks “Jews” myself in conversation. I am not sure how to fix the Bible.”
There is a creativity and love at the center of existence that transforms brokenness. It reaches through and beyond suffering. It even vanquishes death.
In a world that doesn’t make sense, the only response is a life that doesn’t make sense either.
It seems as if I was just asking how your Lent was going, and now we’re embarking on the holiest of weeks.
“Open my lips, O Lord, and my mouth shall proclaim your praise.” These words strike a note to begin a fresh new day. They become a reminder, a way to approach challenging relationships, a lens through which to see day-to-day life.
Faithfulness and betrayal go hand in hand. If we claim any kinship with Peter, we have to claim a kinship with Judas too.
It’s time to connect with God, and connect with my neighbor, not just on a cell phone, or chat, or a tweet, but in face-to-face, hand-to-hand, eye-to-eye ways. Time to reconnect with God, because that’s the most important connection of all.
Prayer keeps the muscles of my faith strong which in turn gives me the spiritual energy and resilience I need to be in order to be present and active in this world even when it is painful.
In the long history of Christianity, Holy Week has been a time of terror. Enraged Christians have attacked Jews, Muslims, and even members of other Christian sects, slaughtering or expelling them, burning their homes and confiscating their belongings.
We are invited to join the dance of unity and inter-relationality that is the nature of being. In these deeply challenging political times, we can be especially mindful to resist forces of hate and scapegoating.
Sharing the peace is one of my favorite times in worship. I love the chance to greet my neighbors in peace.
Finding ourselves in an open space or feeling like a useless broken pot are experiences of humanity through the ages. What challenge do you find in these moments? What invitation?
There have been some things which didn’t kill me, and also didn’t make me stronger. I wish people would stop saying stuff like that. Let’s face it, life can leave you weak and half-dead, trapped in death clothes that won’t come undone.
The appearance of being foolish is a stigma nobody really wants to have to wear. Being foolish is really a form of insult, as if a person did not have the wit or the intelligence or the savvy to be like everyone else around them and do things the “normal” way.