The Wednesday Word
“How was your Easter?”
“Did you have a good Easter?”
These are questions I've been asked several times in the past few days. It's certainly a valid question since people know that, being “in the business,” I tend to be more involved than other people. I think they want to know if I thought Easter services went well (they all did). Or maybe it's their way of making sure I didn't overdo it and was able to enjoy the celebration (I didn't and I did). Or maybe it's simply a way to make polite conversation.
And while the intent of the question can be any of the above suggestions, they all miss the mark. They miss the mark because they are implicitly referring to Easter Day. And they miss the mark because there's an assumption that, like Christmas, Easter is a one-day celebration.
While it is true that we make a big deal out of Easter Day (and rightfully so) with gatherings of family and/or friends, Easter egg hunts, baskets, fancy dresses, new suits, and baptisms, it's important to remember that Easter is a season lasting 49 days, followed by the day of Pentecost and the gift of the Holy Spirit on the fiftieth day.
In recent years there has been a movement to honor the Easter season with a spiritual discipline in the same way as we honor the Lenten season, but with the focus on resurrection and new life rather than self-denial and repentance. This relatively new form of joyful spiritual discipline has come to be known as the via lucis, or Way of Light.
Because this is a relatively new discipline in the church, it's not surprising that it's still being tinkered with. There are several versions available, and you could easily find them with a little poking around the internet. But to save you the trouble, I'm providing a link to one I found that I think matches up with the Good Friday Stations of the Cross quite well:
http://www.stgregoryspreston.org.uk/_webedit/uploaded-files/All%20Files/Stations%20of%20the%20Resurrection.pdf
How might we be changed if during this Easter season we celebrated the joy of the resurrection and the gift of the Holy Spirit all fifty days? Would it make a difference if you spent these fifty days of Easter looking for instances of new life and the presence of the resurrected Christ in the world around you?
So the next time someone asks you, “How was your Easter?” be sure to tell them it's just starting.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 30, 2016
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
March 23, 2016
Today is Wednesday in Holy Week. This is the calm before the storm, so to speak. The Triduum begins tomorrow evening with the Maundy Thursday meal, foot-washing, final Communion of the week, and the stripping of the altar. But today . . . today I have one more day of rest.
The second of two renewal of ordination vows for diocesan clergy happens today in Eugene. Normally I attend these because it's a time to gather and worship with friends and colleagues I don't normally get to see. This year, however, I chose to remain home because I did not want to cancel our own Wednesday Eucharist during Holy Week. And, truth be known, I have at least two more sermons to write, as well as wanting to get out and pay a visit to a person or two whom I haven't seen in awhile.
Today is a good day for doing all of those things.
I hope you had an informative, productive, and blessed Lenten season. I hope you were able to follow your discipline throughout the entire season; and if you weren't, I hope you will revisit it again at another point in the year. Those disciplines, remember, aren't about what you are doing for Lent, but how you are drawing nearer to Christ.
One of the ways we can draw closer to Christ is to participate fully in the events of the Triduum. We can be fully present at the supper and desertion of Maundy Thursday. We can try to remain awake for one hour with Jesus in the garden the night before his arrest. We can journey alongside Jesus as he makes his way to Golgotha, the place of his crucifixion and death on Good Friday. We can mourn with Mary, Mary, and the others as the lifeless body of Jesus lies in a tomb on Holy Saturday. And we can be both dumbfounded and ecstatic as light overcomes the darkness in the early morning and celebrate the risen Christ on Easter Day.
This single liturgy that spans three days is the main event of Christianity. Its all here: life, death, and resurrection; servanthood and glory; betrayal, denial, and forgiveness; promises broken and promises kept; doubt and the seeds of unwavering faith.
Easter is wonderful and bright and joyful and good. But there's no Easter without the cross. It's just as important for us to experience Friday as it is to celebrate Sunday. I invite you, therefore, to participate in all three days of this great liturgy that begins tomorrow night.
But before that . . . today is Wednesday; and today is as good as any to remember the words of Christ in Mark 6:31: Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.
Amen.
The second of two renewal of ordination vows for diocesan clergy happens today in Eugene. Normally I attend these because it's a time to gather and worship with friends and colleagues I don't normally get to see. This year, however, I chose to remain home because I did not want to cancel our own Wednesday Eucharist during Holy Week. And, truth be known, I have at least two more sermons to write, as well as wanting to get out and pay a visit to a person or two whom I haven't seen in awhile.
Today is a good day for doing all of those things.
I hope you had an informative, productive, and blessed Lenten season. I hope you were able to follow your discipline throughout the entire season; and if you weren't, I hope you will revisit it again at another point in the year. Those disciplines, remember, aren't about what you are doing for Lent, but how you are drawing nearer to Christ.
One of the ways we can draw closer to Christ is to participate fully in the events of the Triduum. We can be fully present at the supper and desertion of Maundy Thursday. We can try to remain awake for one hour with Jesus in the garden the night before his arrest. We can journey alongside Jesus as he makes his way to Golgotha, the place of his crucifixion and death on Good Friday. We can mourn with Mary, Mary, and the others as the lifeless body of Jesus lies in a tomb on Holy Saturday. And we can be both dumbfounded and ecstatic as light overcomes the darkness in the early morning and celebrate the risen Christ on Easter Day.
This single liturgy that spans three days is the main event of Christianity. Its all here: life, death, and resurrection; servanthood and glory; betrayal, denial, and forgiveness; promises broken and promises kept; doubt and the seeds of unwavering faith.
Easter is wonderful and bright and joyful and good. But there's no Easter without the cross. It's just as important for us to experience Friday as it is to celebrate Sunday. I invite you, therefore, to participate in all three days of this great liturgy that begins tomorrow night.
But before that . . . today is Wednesday; and today is as good as any to remember the words of Christ in Mark 6:31: Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 16, 2016
March 16, 2016
So I've been reading this little book, A Table in the Desert: Making Space Holy. There's a lot of good stuff in there that I’ve written about in the past. I have now reached that point in the book where the author is discussing the Catholic and Protestant views of the two major sacraments – Baptism and Eucharist. There is some good discussion here about these two sacraments and how the two views could be incorporated into a more cohesive whole.
However (confession time here), right about now I find myself saying, “Well, of course!” quite a bit; and it's not because he has suddenly gotten less insightful. It's because he is focusing on the differences between Catholic and Protestant views, and those views, when brought together into a more cohesive whole, are very Episcopalian. Which means I'm currently having difficulty getting past the obviousness of it all.
But there was one thing he said that caught my attention, and that was the term “Real Presence.” When we say or read that term, most of us immediately think of Communion and the change that happens to the bread and wine as they become the Body and Blood, infused with the Real Presence of Christ. Depending on who you talk to, that change happens during the course of the Eucharist, at the Institution Narrative (“On the night he was handed over . . .”), or during the epiclesis (“Sanctify them by your Holy Spirit . . .”). That change, though, is part of the holy mystery of our worship. Although we believe that the elements have been changed in a major way, a DNA test would not reveal that change; which is why we consider it a mystery.
In discussing the Real Presence of Christ, Fr. Jones expands that term to include the Real Presence of Christ throughout the entire Eucharistic celebration. What if, instead of limiting the Real Presence of Christ to the bread and wine become Body and Blood, we recognized the Real Presence of Christ present in the Scripture readings from the first part of the service? What if we recognized the Real Presence in both Word and Sacrament?
Holy Week begins this Sunday with Palm/Passion Sunday and will move into the Triduum, the single liturgical event spanning from Maundy Thursday to the Easter Vigil. A major part of these services involves hearing readings from Scripture. On both Palm/Passion Sunday and Good Friday, we hear and participate in the reading of the Passion. On Maundy Thursday we hear Scripture during the Liturgy of the Word, and we will hear Psalm 22 read as the altar is stripped. Holy Saturday involves more listening. And at the Easter Vigil we will hear the Exsultet sung, we hear the record of God's saving deeds in history, we hear the various canticles and prayers, and we hear again the words of our baptismal covenant.
There is a whole lot of Word in the liturgies of Holy Week.
Instead of sitting through these readings waiting to get to the “real thing,” what if we saw the totality of the Eucharist as the Real Thing? What if we saw the Holy Mystery of the Real Presence of Christ not only in the elements of bread and wine, but in the form of scriptural warrant?
This Holy Week, and beyond, I invite you to see and participate in the holy mystery of Christ's presence in all parts of the liturgy.
Amen.
However (confession time here), right about now I find myself saying, “Well, of course!” quite a bit; and it's not because he has suddenly gotten less insightful. It's because he is focusing on the differences between Catholic and Protestant views, and those views, when brought together into a more cohesive whole, are very Episcopalian. Which means I'm currently having difficulty getting past the obviousness of it all.
But there was one thing he said that caught my attention, and that was the term “Real Presence.” When we say or read that term, most of us immediately think of Communion and the change that happens to the bread and wine as they become the Body and Blood, infused with the Real Presence of Christ. Depending on who you talk to, that change happens during the course of the Eucharist, at the Institution Narrative (“On the night he was handed over . . .”), or during the epiclesis (“Sanctify them by your Holy Spirit . . .”). That change, though, is part of the holy mystery of our worship. Although we believe that the elements have been changed in a major way, a DNA test would not reveal that change; which is why we consider it a mystery.
In discussing the Real Presence of Christ, Fr. Jones expands that term to include the Real Presence of Christ throughout the entire Eucharistic celebration. What if, instead of limiting the Real Presence of Christ to the bread and wine become Body and Blood, we recognized the Real Presence of Christ present in the Scripture readings from the first part of the service? What if we recognized the Real Presence in both Word and Sacrament?
Holy Week begins this Sunday with Palm/Passion Sunday and will move into the Triduum, the single liturgical event spanning from Maundy Thursday to the Easter Vigil. A major part of these services involves hearing readings from Scripture. On both Palm/Passion Sunday and Good Friday, we hear and participate in the reading of the Passion. On Maundy Thursday we hear Scripture during the Liturgy of the Word, and we will hear Psalm 22 read as the altar is stripped. Holy Saturday involves more listening. And at the Easter Vigil we will hear the Exsultet sung, we hear the record of God's saving deeds in history, we hear the various canticles and prayers, and we hear again the words of our baptismal covenant.
There is a whole lot of Word in the liturgies of Holy Week.
Instead of sitting through these readings waiting to get to the “real thing,” what if we saw the totality of the Eucharist as the Real Thing? What if we saw the Holy Mystery of the Real Presence of Christ not only in the elements of bread and wine, but in the form of scriptural warrant?
This Holy Week, and beyond, I invite you to see and participate in the holy mystery of Christ's presence in all parts of the liturgy.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 9, 2016
March 9, 2016
I serve as the vice president for the Board of football officials. This past Monday we had our first board meeting of the year and discussed such thrilling topics as scheduling, certification, game fees, attraction and retention, meeting dates from July to November, and board meeting dates from now until July.
As we began talking about meeting dates for the board, the president said, “Hey, Rev . . . when is Easter this year?”
“March 27.”
“Oh . . . that would explain why I couldn't find it on the April calendar.”
Somebody else wondered out loud if he thought maybe Easter had been canceled this year. I informed them that, no, Easter had not been canceled.
Which brings me to today. This isn't so much a “Wednesday Word” as much as it is a “Wednesday Reminder.” Easter has not been canceled. Neither has Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday. In fact, all of Holy Week will continue as it always has – with our celebration of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, our participation in his last meal and our desertion, the remembrance of his crucifixion and death, all culminating in the joyous events of Easter Day.
Two weeks from today we will be in the middle of Holy Week. The Triduum, the great three days, will begin on Maundy Thursday with our shared meal and final Eucharist of the week. Over those three days we experience and participate in the mystery of dying and rising again. This is the time when we pass over from death to life. This is THE central event of Christianity – Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection.
As has been said so often by so many: before you get to Easter, you have to go through Good Friday. There is no resurrection without death. The great paradox of Christianity is that in order to live, you must first die. The Triduum, as an overarching event, allows us to catch a glimpse of that holy movement. For us to truly understand and appreciate Easter, we must make the journey with Jesus and his disciples through the last meal, desertion by his friends, and his death and burial.
Holy Week is just over a week away. And for as much as we see the Triduum encompassing three days and three different services, it is, in fact, one long, unified liturgy. It begins with the gathering on Maundy Thursday and ends at the Resurrection. I encourage you, to the best of your ability, to make this a priority and attend all the events of this liturgical centerpiece of our faith.
May you have a blessed Holy Week.
Amen.
As we began talking about meeting dates for the board, the president said, “Hey, Rev . . . when is Easter this year?”
“March 27.”
“Oh . . . that would explain why I couldn't find it on the April calendar.”
Somebody else wondered out loud if he thought maybe Easter had been canceled this year. I informed them that, no, Easter had not been canceled.
Which brings me to today. This isn't so much a “Wednesday Word” as much as it is a “Wednesday Reminder.” Easter has not been canceled. Neither has Palm/Passion Sunday, Maundy Thursday, or Good Friday. In fact, all of Holy Week will continue as it always has – with our celebration of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem, our participation in his last meal and our desertion, the remembrance of his crucifixion and death, all culminating in the joyous events of Easter Day.
Two weeks from today we will be in the middle of Holy Week. The Triduum, the great three days, will begin on Maundy Thursday with our shared meal and final Eucharist of the week. Over those three days we experience and participate in the mystery of dying and rising again. This is the time when we pass over from death to life. This is THE central event of Christianity – Christ’s death, burial, and resurrection.
As has been said so often by so many: before you get to Easter, you have to go through Good Friday. There is no resurrection without death. The great paradox of Christianity is that in order to live, you must first die. The Triduum, as an overarching event, allows us to catch a glimpse of that holy movement. For us to truly understand and appreciate Easter, we must make the journey with Jesus and his disciples through the last meal, desertion by his friends, and his death and burial.
Holy Week is just over a week away. And for as much as we see the Triduum encompassing three days and three different services, it is, in fact, one long, unified liturgy. It begins with the gathering on Maundy Thursday and ends at the Resurrection. I encourage you, to the best of your ability, to make this a priority and attend all the events of this liturgical centerpiece of our faith.
May you have a blessed Holy Week.
Amen.
Wednesday, March 2, 2016
March 2, 2016
Last Saturday the women of the D.O.K. had their semiannual Quiet Day at the church. These started a few years ago when they asked me to lead a day of guided prayer and quiet time for reflection. Over those years I have presented them with themes of A Marian Advent, Easter 3 & 4 Collects, Sayings of the Desert Fathers, and Praying the Psalms. The theme for this past Saturday was Mary Magdalene.
In short, the day is focused on three long silent periods during which the women can make use of a question or thought presented to them for prayer and meditation. These three periods follow Morning Prayer, Holy Eucharist, and lunch. The day closes with Evening Prayer and a final thought of the day. It must be working for them because they keep asking for these Quiet Days.
While the women are scattered throughout the building deep in prayer or thought or contemplation of one kind or another, I also make use of the quiet time doing some reading, going over Sunday's sermon, or letting the sounds and words of ancient church music wash over me. While this is designed as a Quiet Day for the D.O.K., I also participate and find it helpful.
It was during this latest Quiet Day that I noticed something . . . quiet days are LOUD. Birds angrily chirp at each other in some kind of territorial argument. Footsteps echo in the quiet building as one or more of the participants move around to stretch their legs. People cough. Traffic noises are more noticeable. The building creaks. Furnaces kick on and off. These may be Quiet Days, but they are certainly not silent.
As I sat in the quiet of the not-so-silent Quiet Day, I asked myself, “Where do people hear God?”
One of my favorite passages in the Bible comes from 1 Kings 19 – “But the Lord was not in the wind, the Lord was not in the earthquake, the Lord was not in the fire, and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.” God was not, in this instance, in any of the big events, but in the sound of sheer silence.
On any given day, I hear traffic, footsteps, voices, wind, rain, arguments, furnaces, and any number of other things. Most of the time I tune them out and they become so much white noise that I simply ignore as I go about my day. But by tuning out all those noises, by not paying attention to them, by not acknowledging the silence that brings them to the fore, am I also not paying attention to the voice of God? Am I tuning out God as just so much background noise?
This Lent, spend some time in quiet; what you hear just might surprise you.
Amen.
In short, the day is focused on three long silent periods during which the women can make use of a question or thought presented to them for prayer and meditation. These three periods follow Morning Prayer, Holy Eucharist, and lunch. The day closes with Evening Prayer and a final thought of the day. It must be working for them because they keep asking for these Quiet Days.
While the women are scattered throughout the building deep in prayer or thought or contemplation of one kind or another, I also make use of the quiet time doing some reading, going over Sunday's sermon, or letting the sounds and words of ancient church music wash over me. While this is designed as a Quiet Day for the D.O.K., I also participate and find it helpful.
It was during this latest Quiet Day that I noticed something . . . quiet days are LOUD. Birds angrily chirp at each other in some kind of territorial argument. Footsteps echo in the quiet building as one or more of the participants move around to stretch their legs. People cough. Traffic noises are more noticeable. The building creaks. Furnaces kick on and off. These may be Quiet Days, but they are certainly not silent.
As I sat in the quiet of the not-so-silent Quiet Day, I asked myself, “Where do people hear God?”
One of my favorite passages in the Bible comes from 1 Kings 19 – “But the Lord was not in the wind, the Lord was not in the earthquake, the Lord was not in the fire, and after the fire a sound of sheer silence.” God was not, in this instance, in any of the big events, but in the sound of sheer silence.
On any given day, I hear traffic, footsteps, voices, wind, rain, arguments, furnaces, and any number of other things. Most of the time I tune them out and they become so much white noise that I simply ignore as I go about my day. But by tuning out all those noises, by not paying attention to them, by not acknowledging the silence that brings them to the fore, am I also not paying attention to the voice of God? Am I tuning out God as just so much background noise?
This Lent, spend some time in quiet; what you hear just might surprise you.
Amen.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)