Come to
Stillness: Take a few minutes to allow your mind and heart to
be still before God.
Opening
Prayer:By your cross O Lord, you show the extravagance
of your love for us. Love than knows no
limits…no boundaries. Love that pours
down upon us from every wound of your beloved Son. More love than we could ever ask for or
imagine. When we are tempted to doubt
the depths of your heart for us, let our eyes immediately look to Jesus
crucified—and may all doubt be taken away.
In His name. Amen. (JLB)
Psalm for the
Week: Psalm 22
Scripture for the Day:
Luke 19:28-44
Reading for
Reflection:
I remember leading a retreat for pastors some years
ago in which we talked about that place in the spiritual journey (variously
called the Dark Night, the wilderness, the movement from the false self to the
true self) in which there is a very profound kind of death and dying that must
take place in order for something truer to emerge. We talked about the fact
that it is a time when even those who have been faithful to the spiritual
journey may experience loss and disillusionment, when we are humbled, confused
and even begin to question those things that we used to be so sure of. It feels
like dying because in some sense it is. We are dying to what is false within
us—surrendering that which is passing and needs to pass—in order to be more
completely given over to God.
After
that teaching, I walked to lunch with several young men who were in their late
twenties/early thirties. They were elders at a hip and happenin’ church that
was growing and developing in good ways and they had a question. I don’t
remember the exact words now but it was something like this, “Does everyone
have to go through this kind of death and dying? How can we do
ministry in such a way that we don’t have to pass through such a dark
night? And if we can’t, is there any way we can speed up the process so
we can get it behind us?” What they were really asking was, Isn’t
there any way we can be good enough so we don’t have to die?
Well, I
had never been asked that question in quite that way before so it gave me
pause. And after falling in love with them for their earnestness and
sincerity the only thing I could even think to say was, “Even Jesus had to die
in order for the will of God to come forth in his life. If Jesus had to go
through it, I don’t think any of us are going to get away without it.” I’m
pretty sure that’s not the answer they were looking for.
So here
we are at the beginning of Holy Week—a week when we are invited to practice the
most basic and most sacred rhythm of the spiritual life: the rhythm of death,
burial, and resurrection. The paschal mystery. It is not a rhythm that any of
us would willingly choose or even know how to choose; it is usually thrust upon
us. Even Jesus admitted to having mixed feelings about the inevitability of it
all. Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—”Father,
save me from this hour?” No, it is for this reason that I have come to
this hour. (John 12:27)
“Really?” we might say. “We’ve come all this way, done all this
work, become this good just to die?” The answer to those young elders and
to us is yes, always yes. But it is not something we surrender to easily; it is
something we need to practice. As Richard Rohr writes, “We all find
endless disguises and excuses to avoid letting go of what really needs to die
for our own spiritual growth…It is always our beloved passing self that has to
be let go of. Jesus surely had a dozen good reasons why he should not
have to die so young, so unsuccessful at that point, and the Son of God
besides! It is always ‘we”—in our youth, in our beauty, in our power and over-protectedness—that
must be handed over. It is really about ‘passing over’ to the next level
of faith and life. And that never happens without some kind of ‘dying to
the previous levels.’”
So let
us enter into Holy Week as a way to practice the most holy and sacred rhythm of
our faith—death, burial and resurrection. Let us enter into Jesus’
passion by “handing ourselves over” to the events of this week–Mary’s costly
act of preparation for Jesus’ burial, Jesus’ final teaching regarding the cost
of discipleship, the tenderness of the Last Supper, the pain of betrayal, Jesus
handing himself over to his enemies in the garden of Gethsemane, the arduous
journey to the cross, the despair of Holy Saturday, the joy of resurrection
Sunday.
As we begin this week together, let us ask Jesus
what area of our lives at this time needs to be transformed through
the rhythm of death, burial and resurrection. Let us ask him to be our teacher
on the way… from death to burial to resurrection life. (Holy Week: Practicing the Most
Sacred Rhythm of All by Ruth Haley Barton)
Reflection
and Listening: silent and written
Prayer: for the church, for
others, for myself
Song for the
Week: Lift Up Thy Bleeding Hand
When wounded sore, the stricken heart
Lies bleeding and unbound,
One only hand, a pierced hand,
Can salve the sinner's wound.
When sorrow swells the laden breast,
And tears of anguish flow,
One only heart, a broken heart,
Can feel the sinner's woe.
Chorus:
Lift up Thy bleeding hand, O Lord,
Unseal that cleansing tide;
We have no shelter from our sin
But in Thy wounded side.
When penitential grief has wept
O'er some foul dark spot,
One only stream, a stream of blood,
Can wash away the blot.
'Tis Jesus' blood that washes white,
His hand that brings relief,
His heart that's touched with all our joys,
And feels for all our grief.
Chorus
Closing
Prayer:
Our
God and Father,
We thank
You that You have delivered us from the dominion of sin and death, and brought
us into the kingdom
of Your Son: Grant we pray that, by his death he has recalled
us to life, so by his love he may raise us to eternal joy. In the name of Jesus. Amen. (adapted from Venite by
Robert Benson)
