Today, in Mercy, we join Mary and the disciples as they deal with Christ’s death. No doubt, the range of emotions among them was as great as it would be among any group or family losing someone they dearly loved.
They had entered, with heart-wrenching drama, into a period of bereavement over the loss of Jesus. Doubt, hope, loss, fear, sadness and remembered joy vied for each of their hearts. They comforted one another and tried to understand each other’s handling of their terrible shared bereavement.
They did just what we all do as families, friends and communities when our beloved dies.
But ultimately, our particular bereavement belongs to us alone, woven from the many experiences we have had with the person who has died. These are personal and indescribable, as is the character of our pain and loss.
Do not be afraid of your bereavement. It is a gift of love.
Holy Saturday, like bereavement, is a time of infrangible silence. No matter how many “whys” we throw heavenward, no answer comes. It is a time to test what Love has meant to us and, even as it seems to leave us, how it will live in us.
As we pray today with the bereaved Mother and disciples, let us fold all our bereavements into their love. We already know the joyful end to the story, so let us pray today with honesty but also with unconquerable hope that we will live and love again.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, as we begin the Holy Season of Lent, we pray with Psalm 51. It is an elegiac summons the Lord offers to those who hunger for restoration, for those on hope’s last shore.
Blow the trumpet in Zion! proclaim a fast, call an assembly; Gather the people, notify the congregation; Assemble the elders, gather the children and the infants at the breast; Let the bridegroom quit his room and the bride her chamber.
Perhaps there is something that dramatic in your life that you will want to bring to God’s Mercy. But for many of us, Lent is a time to stop ignoring the little things in our lives that cripple our full redemption.
Those:
unforgiven hurts
unresolved angers
petty jealousies
unloving criticisms
unkindnesses
petty cynicisms.
It is a time to face up to our failures to pray, listen, hope, encourage, witness, truth-tell, bless.
It is a time to:
become poor in spirit
mourn our suffering world
be meek before the power God’s Word
deepen in hunger and thirst for righteousness
be merciful
be pure of heart
be peacemaking
befriend persecuted
Lent reminds us that it’s not good enough to be good enough. Lent is about the “whole heart” thing. Is there anything keeping us from it?
Even now, says the LORD, return to me with your whole heart, with fasting, and weeping, and mourning; Rend your hearts, not your garments, and return to the LORD, your God.
Psalm 51 gives us a time-tested formula for a transformative Lent:
acknowledge sinfulness
ask forgiveness
act on God’s Grace
give thanks for God’s mercy
It’s a cycle we should repeat daily, but during Lent it’s time to take it up a notch.
Poetry: Marked by Ashes – Walter Brueggemann
Ruler of the Night, Guarantor of the day… This day — a gift from you. This day — like none other you have ever given, or we have ever received. This Wednesday dazzles us with gift and newness and possibility. This Wednesday burdens us with the tasks of the day, for we are already halfway home halfway back to committees and memos, halfway back to calls and appointments, halfway on to next Sunday, halfway back, half frazzled, half expectant, half turned toward you, half rather not.
This Wednesday is a long way from Ash Wednesday, but all our Wednesdays are marked by ashes — we begin this day with that taste of ash in our mouth: of failed hope and broken promises, of forgotten children and frightened women, we ourselves are ashes to ashes, dust to dust; we can taste our mortality as we roll the ash around on our tongues.
We are able to ponder our ashness with some confidence, only because our every Wednesday of ashes anticipates your Easter victory over that dry, flaky taste of death.
On this Wednesday, we submit our ashen way to you — you Easter parade of newness. Before the sun sets, take our Wednesday and Easter us, Easter us to joy and energy and courage and freedom; Easter us that we may be fearless for your truth. Come here and Easter our Wednesday with mercy and justice and peace and generosity.
We pray as we wait for the Risen One who comes soon.
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 96, an exuberant song of praise and an imperative to radical hope.
Sing to the LORD a new song; sing to the LORD, all you lands. Sing to the LORD; bless the Holy Name.
In the scriptures, hope is both a spiritual and political act. Hope stands up in the midst of pressing contradictions and declares, “God is with us. We give praise because of this conviction”.
Walter Brueggemann defines these elements in true praise:
First, praise is an act of imagination, not description. It sees the world through the lens of faith and dares to line out a world engaged in dialogical transactions between Creator and Creation.
Second, hymns of praise are acts of devotion with political and polemical overtones. Their work is to engage in “world making.” The very act of praise itself envisions a new world, a different world, a world alternative to the one in front of us.
Third, the Psalms voice and are embedded in a larger narrative in which YHWH (God) is the key character and lively agent.
Fourth, doxology (praise) is the exuberant abandonment of self over to God. In singing praise, all claims for the self are given up as the self is ceded over to God.
And fifth, such songs do not passively accommodate to an economic, political, and psychological status quo. They run the risks of being disruptive for the sake of another world —
—- a “Christed” world in which God is intimately engaged with our lives.
Thus we can rejoice in the closing verses of this dynamic psalm:
Let the heavens be glad and the earth rejoice; let the sea and what fills it resound;g let the plains be joyful and all that is in them. Then let all the trees of the forest rejoice before the LORD who comes, who comes to govern the earth, To govern the world with justice and the peoples with faithfulness.
Psalm 96: 12-14
As the new week unfolds, and we move lingeringly away from Christmas comforts, we may forget what we have just commemorated…
Emmanuel- God With Us
As we re-enter a world still in frightening shadows, we must believe in the Light. As we slowly re-robe in the clothing of our daily responsibilities, we must not forget the Garment of Salvation we have just celebrated and received.
Our Psalm calls us to be a daily witness to the Love we have been given:
Announce the Lord’s salvation, day after day. Tell the Lord’s glory among the nations; among all peoples, God’s wondrous deeds.
Psalm 96:2-3
Poetry: Hope by Philip Booth
Old spirit, in and beyond me, keep and extend me. Amid strangers friends, great trees and big seas breaking, let love move me. Let me hear the whole music, see clear, reach deep. Open me to find due words, that I may shape them to ploughshares of my own making. After such luck, however late, give me to give to the oldest dance… Then to good sleep, and - if it happens - glad waking.
Music: Sing a New Song – J.P. Putnam, sung here by the Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
I wanna sing a new song
Shout it out louder than before
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
Yeah yeah
Oh-oh-oh...
There is a place
We can seek his face
Changed in his presence
Touched by his grace
There is a sound
I hear it all around
Worship is rising
And people crying out
I wanna sing a new song
Shout it out louder than before
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
It's a song of praise
A song for all of the redeem
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
Never the same
He's taken my chains
There's freedom in Jesus
Power to save
There is a name
Like no other name (like no other name)
There's freedom in Jesus
(Come on, let's shout it)
Shout out his name
I wanna sing a new song
Shout it out louder than before
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
It's a song of praise
A song for all of the redeemed
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
I wanna sing a new song
Shout it out louder than before
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
It's a song of praise
A song for all of the redeem
Let the whole earth sing
The whole earth sing
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Oh yes, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah say
(Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah)
One more time sing
(Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah)
Somebody say God, you're glorious
(God, you are glorious)
God, you are glorious
(God, you are glorious)
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 27 – and gosh, did I need it!
I believe that I shall see the bounty of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD with courage; be stouthearted, and wait for the LORD.
I woke up this morning still half sick from watching last night’s “debate”. I fully agree with this estimation from Jon Meacham:
“No hyperbole: The incumbent’s behavior this evening is the lowest moment in the history of the presidency since Andrew Johnson’s racist state papers.”
(Jon Meacham, the 2009Pulitzer Prize for Biography for American Lion: Andrew Jackson in the White House. Meacham holds the Carolyn T. and Robert M. Rogers Endowed Chair in American Presidency at Vanderbilt University)
I care about how my country’s leadership has degenerated. I care about how that collapse affects all of our lives especially poor, sick, and marginalized persons. It is painful to witness a situation where leadership suffers from an egregious forfeiture of responsibility and care for anything but its own self-interests.
It’s very hard to find prayer’s central clarity when a dysfunctional world spins around us. I asked myself today,: “Can Psalm 27 help me? Can the Little Flower shed some light for me?”.
Psalm 27 is a prayer that moves from relentless hope to deeply rooted faith. It is a remedy I crave.
Hear my voice, LORD, when I call; have mercy on me and answer me. “Come,” says my heart, “seek God’s face”; your face, LORD, do I seek!
Walter Brueggemann places great emphasis on verse 27:3 and the particular word “though”….
Though an army encamp against me, my heart does not fear; Though war be waged against me, even then do I trust.
Bruggemann says this:
I suggest that the psalm pivots in verse 3 on the word “though,” which is an act of defiance. It is a bold and brave “nevertheless, notwithstanding”… … This “though” is a well-grounded, adamant refusal to participate in the anxiety that is all around.
St. Thérèse of Lisieux wasn’t into “politics” as we commonly define the term. But her life in the abbey presented a good deal of human “politics” which challenged her spiritual growth. Here are a few quotes that I plan to pray with today to invite their blessings on my own anxieties, and to listen for where they might call me to hope, trust and faith, as well as productive, not fretful, action. You might like to do the same.
My whole strength lies in prayer and sacrifice, these are my invincible arms; they can move hearts far better than words, I know it by experience. ― The Little Way for Everyone Day: Thoughts from Thérèse of Lisieux
Joy is not found in the things which surround us, but lives only in the soul. ― The Story of a Soul: The Autobiography of St. Thérèse of Lisieux
It is wrong to pass one’s time in fretting, instead of sleeping on the Heart of Jesus. ― ibid.
In place of a poem today, this tidbit about Psalm 27 from Pope John Paul II:
The faithful know that being consistent creates ostracism and even provokes
contempt and hostility in a society that often chooses to live under the banner
of personal prestige, ostentatious success, wealth, unbridled enjoyment.
They are not alone, however, and preserve a surprising interior peace in their hearts because, as the marvellous “antiphon” that opens the Psalm says,
“the Lord is light and salvation… the stronghold of life” (cf. Ps 27: 1) of the just.
He continuously repeats: “Whom shall I fear?”, “Of whom shall I be afraid?”,
“My heart shall not fear”, “Yet I will trust” (cf. vv. 1, 3).
JOHN PAUL II- GENERAL AUDIENCEWednesday, 21 April 2004
Music: The Lord is My Light and My Salvation – Haas and Haugen
Refrain: The Lord is my light and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?
The Lord is my light and my help; whom should I fear?The Lord is the stronghold of my life; before whom should I shrink?
There is one thing I ask of the Lord; for this I long; to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.
I believe I shall see the goodness of the Lord, in the land of the living; hope in him and take heart, hope in the Lord!
Today, in God’s Lavish Mercy, we pray with Psalm 98, one of a small knot of psalms whose point is to shout praise over and over to God. It is a hymn psalm, and one of the ten Royal Psalms themed with “kingship”.
As we pray this exultant psalm, in Latin called “Cantate Domino” (Sing to the Lord), we can almost visualize the psalmist and fellow praisers clapping God on the back and chanting, “Great job! Nice work!”.
All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation by our God. Sing joyfully to the LORD, all you lands; break into song; sing praise.
Walter Brueggemann has written extensively about the Psalms. He says this about the act of praise:
Praise articulates and embodies our capacity to yield, submit, and abandon ourselves in trust and gratitude to the One whose we are. … We have a resilient hunger to move beyond self. God is addressed not because we have need, but simply because God is God. (Israel’s Praise: Doxology against Idolatry and Ideology)
We don’t have to be as articulate as the psalmist to weave praise into our prayer.
Sometimes when we catch the sunrise at a morning window, we might quietly say, “Great job! Thank You, Radiant God”
When we look at the magnificence of a natural wonder like the Grand Canyon, we might abandon words and simply let our breathing be praise.
When we study the finely-aged face of a beloved elder, we might praise the monument of grace God has worked in her/his life.
When we finger the strings of our own faith history, we might, in our own words, echo the psalmist:
I sing You a new song in every moment, Lord for You have done wondrous deeds; Your loving hand has strung grace through my life, your generous heart has blessed me amazingly.
Poetry today from Mary Oliver who rejoices in the redbird’s morning praise:
All night my heart makes its way however it can over the rough ground of uncertainties, but only until night meets and then is overwhelmed by morning, the light deepening, the wind easing and just waiting, as I too wait (and when have I ever been disappointed?) for redbird to sing
― A Thousand Mornings
Today, in Mercy, our readings carry the full flavor of the “end times” warnings, those repeated annually as we move closer to Advent ( which is only two weeks away!)
Malachi is very direct:
Lo, the day is coming, blazing like an oven, when all the proud and all evildoers will be stubble…
Wow! Really? Our reaction might range from “Good! Go get ‘em, God!” to “Oh, dear God, I hope it’s not me!!!”.
But Paul resets us on the right track. He says something like this:
Listen! You must imitate your teachers in Christ.
Live with integrity, justice and generous mercy.
Navigate the world with these as your compass.
Then you will welcome the end times.
In our world, we see the opposing forces of good and evil clearly pulling against one another. In our decisions and attitudes, we are confronted with the choice between sin and selflessness.
The “elephant in the room” this week for many of us is the impeachment hearings. How do we view this event as people of Gospel faith? How do we respond?
While some of us believe strongly in separation of Church and State, still we acknowledge that our FAITH is exercised in a political world. We pursue our full conversion in Christ through “polity“: our just and compassionate interactions with all Creation.
Right in front of us this week, we have seenamazing displays of courage and morality standing against venal self-interests. How does what we see align with our own living of justice and mercy?
Political scientist Harold Lasswell defined politics as “who gets what, when, and how“. If this isn’t the same challenge tackled in the Gospel, I don’t know what is! Jesus said that the poor and disenfranchised should be the first to “get” – through peace, love and mercy. Making that happen is our Christian call.
However, it is likely impossible to communicate God’s vision for the world in the language of politics.Walter Brueggemann says this:
The prophet’s task is to imagine the world as though Yahweh, the God of Israel and the creator of heaven and earth, were a real character and a lively agent in the life of the world. I believe that such a claim, then and now, has to be articulated poetically in order not to be co-opted by political absolutism or theological orthodoxy. ~Walter Brueggemann
Our readings today give us this poetic vision and challenge. Read them with great longing to hear God’s voice for our times. The world so sorely needs the answer that will grow in our souls.
Lavish Mercy 