May Easter stay with you

An Easter blessing:

May all the joy and excitement of Easter stay with you.  May the power of Christ's resurrection stay with you.  May the good news of Easter stay with you.  May the promise and hope of Easter stay with you.  May you in the days ahead sing, pray, live, love, act, and serve all for the glory of God.

Be blessed as you go forth.

AMEN

Even when he is silent

In the midst of the pandemic we await a better day... of hugs, sharing the peace in community, singing together, celebrating with family and friends.  While we wait, here's a poem of faith:

“I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
And I believe in love,
even when there’s no one there.
And I believe in God,
even when he is silent.

I believe through any trial,
there is always a way
But sometimes in this suffering
and hopeless despair
My heart cries for shelter,
to know someone’s there
But a voice rises within me, saying hold on
my child, I’ll give you strength,
I’ll give you hope. Just stay a little while.

I believe in the sun
even when it is not shining
And I believe in love
even when there’s no one there
But I believe in God
even when he is silent
I believe through any trial
there is always a way.

May there someday be sunshine
May there someday be happiness
May there someday be love
May there someday be peace….”

– Uknown

The story that goes with this poem is that it was found carved on a cellar wall in Germany.  Some say in a hiding place for Jews trying to escape the Holocaust.  Others say it was in a concentration camp in Cologne.  If you read it as written by a Jewish person in the midst of the horrors of WWII, the simple words are even more profound.  I have not found verification for the origins of the poem, but they do speak from a place of faith.  And we all need faith.  Hope.  Sunshine, happiness, love and peace.

This poes has been set to music by the Norwegian composer Kim André Arnesen. You can hear a lovely rendition conducted by Anton Armstrong by clicking the link to YouTube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hYwYMngq4II

Where is Jesus, this strange Easter day?

A poem written Easter 2020 - and which unfortunately is even more true this Easter, 2021

Easter 2020, by Malcolm Guite

And where is Jesus, this strange Easter day?
Not lost in our locked churches, anymore
Than he was sealed in that dark sepulchre.
The locks are loosed; the stone is rolled away,
And he is up and risen, long before,
Alive, at large, and making his strong way
Into the world he gave his life to save,
No need to seek him in his empty grave.
 
He might have been a wafer in the hands
Of priests this day, or music from the lips
Of red-robed choristers, instead he slips
Away from church, shakes off our linen bands
To don his apron with a nurse: he grips
And lifts a stretcher, soothes with gentle hands
The frail flesh of the dying, gives them hope,
Breathes with the breathless, lends them strength to cope.

On Thursday we applauded, for he came
And served us in a thousand names and faces
Mopping our sickroom floors and catching traces
Of that corona which was death to him:
Good Friday happened in a thousand places
Where Jesus held the helpless, died with them
That they might share his Easter in their need,
Now they are risen with him, risen indeed.

Find Malcolm and his writings here:  https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/blog/

Were you there?

Being Present to Suffering

“Were you there when they crucified my Lord?” asks the hymn. As we enter into John’s gospel for Good Friday, this is a good question. How are we “there”? How are we present to Jesus’ suffering and death—in our hearts and minds, our communities, and our world? What is the meaning of his suffering and death for us? Good Friday worship invites us into such questions and through them forms our faith and guides our lives toward compassion. Traditions such as the Way of the Cross enable people to imagine themselves present with Jesus in his last hours before death.

In Good Friday worship, we accompany Jesus to the cross with other witnesses who show various ways of being present—or not. A fearful Peter denies Jesus. A group of women keep watch and weep for Jesus on the cross. Joseph of Arimathea and Nicodemus take care of his lifeless body. Watching, weeping, caring, and even denying are all common human responses to suffering. Becoming aware of our own witness and responses, we can be present more compassionately to Christ crucified, wherever and whenever we encounter him in suffering and injustice.

Even as we consider how to “be there” in the face of suffering, we know that, as always, Jesus has gone first. The reading from Isaiah reminds us how Jesus, through his death, is present with us in our suffering. We can trust that wherever we go and whatever we go through, Jesus is “there”; he can “sympathize with our weaknesses” (Heb. 4:15). We know that we are not alone in our own suffering and death, and we consider what to do now with that knowledge. Good Friday draws us into a community that wonders together: how can we be “there” with Christ crucified in our world and share the hope of resurrection in such places?

From Sundays and Seasons

In our midst

Mark 11:1–11

“Those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, ‘Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!" (Mark 11:9). Notice how this verse describes the entrance of Jesus into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. It says that some are ahead of him while others are following behind. In other words, Jesus is in the midst of them. I find it easy to forget that Jesus is not only behind or ahead of us. He is not simply a figure from 2,000 years ago or a savior who will meet us in the moment of death and bring us to new life. Our verse reminds us that Jesus is here now in our midst. He comes to us today with a Word of forgiveness and freedom. He meets us whenever and wherever we meet a neighbour—in our homes, workplaces, schools, and community.

Lord Jesus, we thank you for your presence in our midst. May we and those we meet be enclosed in your gracious Word of love. Amen.

From Awesome Mystery, a Lent devotion