Jesus said to his disciples: “Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid. ~ John 14:27
Jesus did a lot to prepare his disciples for his suffering and death – sort of an “anticipatory grief” workshop! And the essential coping gift he gives them is peace. Not a peace that means free from trouble or conflict, but rather a peace like his own – one of being resolutely grounded in God.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We pray to be so deeply rooted in God that we see all experience through the lens of God’s peaceful abiding in our hearts.
Poetry: Making Peace – Denise Levertov
A voice from the dark called out, ‘The poets must give us imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar imagination of disaster. Peace, not only the absence of war.’ But peace, like a poem, is not there ahead of itself, can’t be imagined before it is made, can’t be known except in the words of its making, grammar of justice, syntax of mutual aid. A feeling towards it, dimly sensing a rhythm, is all we have until we begin to utter its metaphors, learning them as we speak. A line of peace might appear if we restructured the sentence our lives are making, revoked its reaffirmation of profit and power, questioned our needs, allowed long pauses . . . A cadence of peace might balance its weight on that different fulcrum; peace, a presence, an energy field more intense than war, might pulse then, stanza by stanza into the world, each act of living one of its words, each word a vibration of light—facets of the forming crystal.
Jesus said to his disciples: “If you know me, then you will also know my Father. From now on you do know him and have seen him.” Philip said to Jesus, “Master, show us the Father, and that will be enough for us.” Jesus said to him, “Have I been with you for so long a time and you still do not know me, Philip? Whoever has seen me has seen the Father.
Philip is like a lot of us. He is more comfortable with knowledge than with faith. He wants to be shown the Father, the way we might ask to be shown the facts, the details, the plan for something. But faith can’t be boiled down to facts and blueprints. Faith can’t be described or detailed in a presentation or an image.
Jesus challenges Philip to give himself fully to relationship with Jesus. In that shared love, wisdom, trust, and acceptance, Philip already knows the Father. Jesus is the human revelation of the Infinite Love, Wisdom, and Goodness of the Trinity.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We pray for the spiritual freedom to release our hearts from any doubt or reservation in our faith. We ask for the grace to trust the Presence of God in our lives and to respond in love to that ineffable Loving Presence.
Prayer: from Julian of Norwich
God, of thy goodness, give me Thyself; for Thou art enough for me, and I can ask for nothing less that can be full honor to Thee. And if I ask anything that is less, ever Shall I be in want, for only in Thee have I all.
Music: Expecting Miracles – Velma Frye and Macrina Wiederkehr, OSB
Midnight moon, let your soft light fall gently, Gently upon all that has grown dim in our lives. Midnight moon, pour yourself into places Where we are weary, Midnight moon, refresh our bodies And our hearts. Let us watch throughout the long night as ones, As ones expecting miracles.
Morning sun, let your soft light fall gently, Gently upon all that has grown dim in our lives. Morning sun, pour yourself into places Where we are weary, Morning sun, refresh our bodies and our hearts. Let us step into this new day as ones, As ones expecting miracles.
May we live this day With the presence of disciples of joy!
Observing the boldness of Peter and John and perceiving them to be uneducated, ordinary men, the leaders, elders, and scribes were amazed, and they recognized them as the companions of Jesus.
Acts 4:11
When Jesus had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons. She went and told his companions who were mourning and weeping. When they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they did not believe.
Mark 16:9-11
Think of it! Jesus had companions – people he depended on and who depended on him. Like all companions, they had a common bond – their faith and mission.
It was this shared faith and mission that made them recognizable even when they were not standing side by side.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
How wonderful to be so invested in the faith and mission of the Gospel that we are recognizable as companions of Jesus!
Poetry: The Companion – John N. Morris
I shall begin To appear too often. You will not recall When first you saw me. I shall arrive At the light beside you. Catching a plane You will observe me. I will never speak. I will never ignore you. I shall open a door. You will pass before me. I will stand In a line behind you. Whatever you do I will be the same. Nobody else Will ever believe you. Soon you will find You are looking for me. The day will come, It is getting closer, When I shall stand At every corner. Then you will know That you deserve me And there will be No more excuses.
They said to him, “The things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene, who was a prophet mighty in deed and word before God and all the people, how our chief priests and rulers both handed him over to a sentence of death and crucified him. But we had hoped that he would be the one to redeem Israel …
… And he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are! How slow of heart to believe all that the prophets spoke! Was it not necessary that the Christ should suffer these things and so enter into his glory?”
Luke 24: 19-21; 25-26
The Emmaus disciples travel home confused, disappointed, walking on the thin edge of doubt, caught in the pluperfect form of hope that struggles to believe.
How special these two must have been to Jesus that he comes to them to soothe and redeem their bewilderedness!
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Each of us walks the road of faith, sometimes confident, and sometimes as befuddled as these two on the way to Emmaus. Good friends – holy friends – help us open our eyes to the presence of God in our lives. We pray in gratitude for the companions who accompany us on our life journey. We consider our openness to God’s presence in our companionship, and ask for the grace to inspire one another’s faith.
Poetry: Emmaus Journey by Irene Zimmerman, OSF – from Incarnation: New and Selected Poems for Spiritual Reflection
All was chaos when he died. We fled our separate ways at first, then gathered again in the upper room to chatter blue-lipped prayers around the table where he’d talked of love and oneness.
On the third day Cleopas and I left for the home we’d abandoned in order to follow him.
We wanted no part of the babble the women had brought from the tomb. We vowed to get on with our grieving.
On the road we met a Stranger whose voice grew vaguely familiar as he spoke of signs and suffering.
By the time we reached our village, every tree and bush was blazing and we pressed him to stay the night.
Yet not till we sat at the table and watched the bread being broken did we see the Light.
Mary said to the angels, “They have taken my Lord, and I don’t know where they laid him.” When she had said this, she turned around and saw Jesus there, but did not know it was Jesus. Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” She thought it was the gardener and said to him, “Sir, if you carried him away, tell me where you laid him, and I will take him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary!” She turned and said to him in Hebrew, “Rabbouni,”….
John 20:13-16
It is not until He says her name that Mary recognizes Jesus. Earlier, when He simply calls her “Woman”, she is still confused about who He is. But the speaking of her name clears her vision and she names Him, lovingly, in return.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
Let us listen to God’s names for us. They will be beyond the Baptismal or nicknames by which everyone knows us. God’s names for us are infinite, changing as we grow in knowledge of ourselves. They are wordless invitations to ever-deeper intimacy as we discover ourselves in God’s heart.
And let us pray with our own names for God. These too may be beyond the common catalog of “Lord” and “Father”. Plumb your soul for your own deepest – perhaps even silent – names for God.
Poetry: Thom Satterlee – One Hundred and Eight Names for God (based on Hal M. Helms translation of The Confessions)
Some of them we’ve heard before– Lord, Almighty, Omnipotent One. And others turn God into a pedant, even if that wasn’t always a bad thing to be: Power That Weds My Mind with My Inmost Thought. But many, the best, are like a new birdcall: Beauty of All Things Beautiful, The One by Whom I Have Been Apprehended. They remind me of the unsteady joy in learning a foreign language: God, Light of My Eyes in Secret, Inmost Physician, Exaltation of My Humility. What impresses me most is his trying again and again to name what he loves, and how the attempt at once shows and grows his love.
So what shall we call him, This Most Effusive Saint? He is An Eloquent Lover of the Divine, One Holy Word Hoarder, God’s Appellation Artist. He is One Who Shows Us What a Name Can Mean, An Alphabet That Ends with the Letter for God.
When I found Thom Satterlee’s poem on the internet, there was a link to this wonderful article for anyone who loves to write. Some of you may enjoy it. I think it’s really beautiful.
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went away quickly from the tomb, fearful yet overjoyed, and ran to announce the news to his disciples. And behold, Jesus met them on their way and greeted them. They approached, embraced his feet, and did him homage. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid. Go tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me.”
Matthew 28: 8-10
Oh, the young, heartbroken yet hopeful, fearful yet joyful Marys! Their whole beings leapt at the realization of Easter.
And so they RAN to share the incredible news. They didn’t just walk. They didn’t just return. They didn’t just hurry. They RAN!
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy: Now it’s been a while since this nearly octogenarian body has run. But I ask myself on this post-Easter morning, can my spirit still run … RUN … with the Resurrection News to every heart that longs to hear it?
Poetry: Messenger – Mary Oliver
My work is loving the world. Here the sunflowers, there the hummingbird— equal seekers of sweetness. Here the quickening yeast; there the blue plums. Here the clam deep in the speckled sand.
Are my boots old? Is my coat torn? Am I no longer young, and still half-perfect? Let me keep my mind on what matters, which is my work,
which is mostly standing still and learning to be astonished. The phoebe, the delphinium. The sheep in the pasture, and the pasture. Which is mostly rejoicing, since all the ingredients are here,
which is gratitude, to be given a mind and a heart and these body-clothes, a mouth with which to give shouts of joy to the moth and the wren, to the sleepy dug-up clam, telling them all, over and over, how it is that we live forever.
The Lord GOD is my help, therefore I am not disgraced; I have set my face like flint, knowing that I shall not be put to shame. He is near who upholds my right; if anyone wishes to oppose me, let us appear together. Who disputes my right? Let him confront me. See, the Lord GOD is my help; who will prove me wrong?
Isaiah 50: 7-8
Have you had moments in your life when you’ve said to yourself, “This is it. Like it or not, face the music.”?
Some of these times are unhappy, even scary. Some of them are just overwhelming. But they are times when we realize we have no choice but to go forward – that the time has come for whatever the life-changing reality is before us.
Jesus is at such a moment. All the energies of his life have now converged to this confrontational moment where he fully discovers his Oneness with the Father and Holy Spirit.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We examine our own lives, and the shared life we live in the global community. How might the pattern of Jesus’s life, particularly in these critical moments, teach us the way to holiness and wholeness?
Poetry: from Philippians 2
I have always found this passage from Philippians to speak so much more than the printed words which carry it.
Let each of you look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which was in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not consider equality with God something thing to be grasped at, but emptied himself, taking the form of a servant, being born in human likeness. And being found in human form, he humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every other name, so that at Jesus' Name, every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue proclaim to the glory of God the Father, that Jesus Christ is Lord.
Reclining at table with his disciples, Jesus was deeply troubled and testified, “Amen, amen, I say to you, one of you will betray me.” The disciples looked at one another, at a loss as to whom he meant. One of his disciples, the one whom Jesus loved, was reclining at Jesus’ side. So Simon Peter nodded to him to find out whom he meant. He leaned back against Jesus’ chest and said to him, “Master, who is it?” Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I hand the morsel after I have dipped it.” So he dipped the morsel and took it and handed it to Judas, son of Simon the Iscariot.
John 13: 21-26
To be betrayed is so much worse than to be outright opposed! An opponent is someone who stands against you from the beginning. You know who they are. You know how to protect yourself from them.
But a betrayer is someone who turns on you after you have given your trust. With that trust, you have handed over all your tools for self-protection. You are left vulnerable to their inconstancy.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We pray to be a true-hearted person, one who deserves and keeps the confidence of God and of our companions on the journey.
We pray to understand the weaknesses that may have motivated Judas, and to ask God to heal us of any trace of them in our own hearts.
Poetry: Judas Iscariot by Countee Cullen (1925)
This long but simple poem offers an interesting take on Judas. Countee Cullen was a central figure of the Harlem Renaissance, a movement centered in the cosmopolitan community of Harlem, in New York City, which had attracted talented migrants from across the country. During the 1920s, a fresh generation of African-American writers emerged, although a few were Harlem-born. Other leading figures included Alain Locke (The New Negro, 1925), James Weldon Johnson (Black Manhattan, 1930), Claude McKay (Home to Harlem, 1928), Langston Hughes (The Weary Blues, 1926), Zora Neale Hurston (Jonah’s Gourd Vine, 1934), Wallace Thurman (Harlem: A Melodrama of Negro Life, 1929), Jean Toomer (Cane, 1923) and Arna Bontemps (Black Thunder, 1935).(information from Wikipedia)
I think when Judas' mother heard His first faint cry the night That he was born, that worship stirred Her at the sound and sight.
She thought his was as fair a frame As flesh and blood had worn; I think she made this lovely name For him— "Star of my morn."
As any mother's son he grew From spring to crimson spring; I think his eyes were black, or blue, His hair curled like a ring.
His mother's heart-strings were a lute Whereon he all day played; She listened rapt, abandoned, mute, To every note he made.
I think he knew the growing Christ, And played with Mary's son, And where mere mortal craft sufficed, There Judas may have won.
Perhaps he little cared or knew, So folly-wise is youth, That He whose hand his hand clung to Was flesh-embodied Truth;
Until one day he heard young Christ, With far-off eyes agleam, Tell of a mystic, solemn tryst Between Him and a dream.
And Judas listened, wonder-eyed, Until the Christ was through, Then said, “And I, though good betide, Or ill, will go with you."
And so he followed, heard Christ preach, Saw how by miracle The blind man saw, the dumb got speech, The leper found him well.
And Judas in those holy hours, Loved Christ, and loved Him much, And in his heart he sensed dead flowers Bloom at the Master's touch.
And when Christ felt the death hour creep, With sullen, drunken lurch, He said to Peter, "Feed my sheep, And build my holy church.”
He gave to each the special task That should be his to do, But reaching one, I hear him ask, “What shall I give to you?”
Then Judas in his hot desire Said, "Give me what you will." Christ spoke to him with words of fire, “Then, Judas, you must kill,
One whom you love, One who loves you As only God's son can: This is the work for you to do To save the creature man."
"And men to come will curse your name, And hold you up to scorn; In all the world will be no shame Like yours; this is love's thorn.
It takes strong will of heart and soul, But man is under ban. Think, Judas, can you play this role In heaven's mystic plan?"
So Judas took the sorry part, Went out and spoke the word, And gave the kiss that broke his heart, But no one knew or heard.
And no one knew what poison ate Into his palm that day, Where, bright and damned, the monstrous weight Of thirty white coins lay.
It was not death that Judas found Upon a kindly tree; The man was dead long ere he bound His throat as final fee.
And who can say if on that day When gates of pearl swung wide, Christ did not go His honored way With Judas by His side?
I think somewhere a table round Owns Jesus as its head, And there the saintly twelve are found Who followed where He led.
And Judas sits down with the rest, And none shrinks from His hand, For there the worst is as the best, And there they understand.
And you may think of Judas, 'friend, As one who broke his word, Whose neck came to a bitter end For giving up his Lord.
But I would rather think of him As the little Jewish lad Who gave young Christ heart, soul, and limb, And all the love he had.
Music: Heaven On Their Minds – Judas’s song from Jesus Christ Superstar
Mary took a liter of costly perfumed oil made from genuine aromatic nard and anointed the feet of Jesus and dried them with her hair; the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil…
… Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Let her keep this for the day of my burial.
John 12: 3;7
Mary knows. Even though theories bounce back and forth about how Jesus will be received in Jerusalem, Mary knows.
She knows that someone she loves is on the brink of a desperate confrontation, and she cannot change it. What she can do is to cherish his presence by a silent act of love that strengthens both of them with a holy grace.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We know. We know what Jesus did for us – still does for us. And there are no words adequate for our thanks. But our quiet prayer as we absorb the astounding mystery of Christ’s love – may it be an anointing of gratitude.
Poetry: Anointing at Bethany – Malcolm Guite
Come close with Mary, Martha, Lazarus so close the candles stir with their soft breath and kindle heart and soul to flame within us, lit by these mysteries of life and death. For beauty now begins the final movement in quietness and intimate encounter. The alabaster jar of precious ointment is broken open for the world’s true Lover.
The whole room richly fills to feast the senses with all the yearning such a fragrance brings. The heart is mourning but the spirit dances, here at the very center of all things, here at the meeting place of love and loss, we all foresee, and see beyond the cross.
Music: Pour My Love on You – written by Craig and Dean Phillips
… He emptied himself, taking the form of a slave, coming in human likeness; and found human in appearance, he humbled himself, becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Because of this, God greatly exalted him and bestowed on him the name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend, of those in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
Philippians 2:7-11
As Jesus rode into Jerusalem, many joined the procession waving their palm branches and shouting, “Hosanna!”. Each one had a unique, personal reason for their actions.
Some just got caught in traffic.
Some just liked a parade.
Some were crowd followers, doing whatever everybody else was doing.
Some were sure this was the beginning of Jesus’s kingly triumph, and wanted to be on the right side.
Some wanted to support Jesus in whatever he did.
Some, just walking quietly beside Jesus, knew this was a momentous turn in the course of history, spinning with a mix of fear and possibility.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy:
We join the long, historical column of believers who have accompanied Jesus on Palm Sunday. What kind of faith motivates us? What shakes the palm branches in our hearts?
Are we just “caught in traffic”, mindlessly practicing rituals, but short on practical commitment to the Gospel?
Do we parade our faith on Sundays and then return to an unfaithful life?
Is the faithful practice of the Gospel slowly teaching us the meaning of the Paschal Mystery – that the palm branch must turn to the cross’s wood before we really become Christians?
Poetry: Palm Sunday – Malcolm Guite
Now to the gate of my Jerusalem, The seething holy city of my heart, The Savior comes. But will I welcome him? Oh crowds of easy feelings make a start; They raise their hands, get caught up in the singing, And think the battle won. Too soon they’ll find The challenge, the reversal he is bringing Changes their tune. I know what lies behind The surface flourish that so quickly fades; Self-interest, and fearful guardedness, The hardness of the heart, its barricades, And at the core, the dreadful emptiness Of a perverted temple. Jesus, come Break my resistance and make me your home.