Good Friday

"Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows: yet we esttemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted." - Isaiah 53:4

Maundy Thursday

Holy God, source of all love, on the night of his betrayal Jesus gave his disciples a new commandment, to love one another as he loved them. Write this commandment in our hearts; give us the will to serve others as he was the servant of all, who gave his life and died for us. Amen. - The Lutheran Book of Worship

Consuming Darkness

We have a unique relationship with darkness. As children we love to play and tell stories in the darkness. Yet if all light is extinguished our fascination turns to fear. When we get older darkness can even become a nuisance (ever stub your toe on the edge of your bed in the middle of the night?). As an adult we may even experience a darkness that as children we never knew: a darkness of the soul.

Some refer to it as despair, hopelessness, and depression, yet the feelings it brings with it are the same. In the dark seasons of life a deep sadness and sense of meaningless seam to keep us incarcerated in a life that feels too small; void of any breath; void of any light. In darkness we loose our orientation to life and we become numb to the world around us; operating like a shell of our former self.

A darkness of the soul is deep, engulfing, and all consuming. In darkness, there are no easy answers. Sadly many who go through seasons of darkness are given platitudes to “help” them in “their” situation. “Maybe you’re not praying enough”, “This must be a result of some unconfessed sin in your life”, and (my personal favorite) “Just let go and let God…”

Articulating these sentiments can leave one feeling more alone, as if it is up to them (and their “prayer time”) to just “snap out of it” (see the advice Job received from his “friends”). Religious clichés like these leave little room for help and end up perpetuating a deeper sense of guilt leading one further down the spiral of hopelessness.

The darkness of the soul may seem void of any kind of spirituality. However, this is often the place where God is most present. In the place where the lights of life are shut out we are often taken to the end of “self”; the place where, because of total exhaustion, we surrender. It is in that moment a new light dawns and we begin to see more clearly than we ever have before.

There is no formula or time frame given through which the cloud will be lifted…darkness is a part of the journey.

If you are experiencing a season of darkness; you do not have to journey alone. Share your feelings with someone you trust, who loves you and can walk with you (a friend, family member, a counselor). As you feel swallowed in hopelessness, may you find solidarity with the Giver of Light who is never consumed by darkness and has made his dwelling among you.

When you find yourself experiencing a season of “light” be generous with the light that has been entrusted to you. Use it as a beacon of hope to those who are stuck and wondering, ushering them to the place of peace and hope.

“I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I well remember them, my soul is downcast within me. Yet this I call to mind and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, ‘The Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.’” – Lamentations 2:4

Palm Sunday

Jesus, when you rode into Jerusalm the people waved paslms with shouts of acclamation. Grant that when the shouting dies we my still walk beside you, even to the cross.

- A New Zealand Prayer Book (He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa)

The Pain of "Forget"

Throughout life there are experiences that we wish we could forget. Pains and past hurts that serve as an on-going reminder that we are “not okay”. Ironically there are also things within our life that we hope we never forget. The sound of the ocean tide sweeping the shore, the warmth of the sun on our face, the moment we had our first last kiss, and the time when our child invited us to come and play.

These moments of goodness are essential to our memory. They serve as a compass, always pointing us in the direction of possibility and hope.

Yet sometimes during the pains of life, we become so overwhelmed with a destructive reality that our capacity to “remember” life’s joys drastically diminishes. The opening narrative of Exodus tells of a good God who had continued in life-giving relationship with his people throughout the generations. God had expressed his goodness to Joseph and his descendants in such a way that all of God’s people knew their identity and their hope.

The story takes a dramatic turn with the death of Joseph’s generation and the birth of a king (who had no memory of the good past). These two events cause the collective memory of God’s goodness and promise fade away. Exodus 1:8 hits like a thud: “Then a new king, to whom Joseph meant nothing, came to power in Egypt.” This was the turning point; the moment when God’s people began to forget.

When the difficulties of life come our way and begin to make for us a new reality, it becomes all too easy to forget the good of the past. Not only do we loose our hopeful memory of the past but we also let go of the possibility that good will re-emerge in the future.

Maybe in the midst of a difficult relationship, the loss of work or in declining health, your capacity to “remember” the goodness of life, and the One who created it, has escaped your memory. Yet this is not where the story ends. Pharaoh (and the lords of this earth may have forgotten) but the God of creation never forgets.

May you, whether wondering in pain or basking in joy, be reminded of a good God who has not forgotten.

The Divine Hours

God, you have prepared in peace the path I must follow today. Help me to walk straight on that path. If I speak, remove lies from my lips. If I am hungry, take away from me all complaint. If I have plenty, destroy pride in me. May I go through the day calling on you, you, O Lord, who knows no other Lord.

- Phyllis Tickle, The Divine Hours

The Thin Line Between Creative and Crazy (pt. 1)

"Many people hear voices when no one is there. Some of them are called 'mad' and are shut up in rooms where they stare at the walls all day. Others are called 'writers' and they do pretty much the same thing." - Meg Chittenden