Resurrection is coming. It is important and sometimes difficult to hold on to that hope; yet resurrection that glosses over the reality of death, the finitude of death, that last piece of the solidarity of the Incarnation reins in the hope that might otherwise extend even to the rubble of a hospital, or the shores of a storm-churned beach, or the shut-off third rail of a subway system.
In this frightening time, may we remember that the kingdom to which we belong transcends pain and death. No matter what happens, it cannot be taken away. It cannot be subverted.
This Lent is bruised and battered by thoughts of things going on in Ukraine and other places worldwide. … We ask for God’s blessings on those who suffer in any way and God’s help in bringing peace and comfort to the world.
God remembers that we are but dust
and the ashes of last year’s plans; …
Lent calls us to attention, astonishment, and witness. Lent calls us to see the potential rather than the dreariness and horror of pandemic and now war, to look for the beauty and unity among ourselves and all God’s sparkling mysterious creation placed here for our support and care. Lent calls us to proclaim, to tell, to be truthful and reliable in our witness to God’s love by embodying God’s love.
Dear God,
When the ashes are felt upon our head,
draw us closer to you.
After well over an hour, with the canopy darkening and the narrow path dimming into that grainy soft focus that comes with the dusk, we were afraid that we might, in fact, be lost in the jungle, reputed still to harbour the occasional tiger, and definitely full of scorpions, spiders, and large and small lizards, along with our baby, toddler, and child. It was too late to turn back; the darkness would be upon us within minutes.
As Lent began, we read from the Gospel according to Matthew the advice to, “whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret; and your Father who sees in secret will reward you” (Matthew 6:6). Oh, but what about those things that “our Father who is in secret” will see? And what will be their just reward?
Many years ago, in a small Episcopal mission church, we celebrated Shrove Tuesday with pancakes, fresh deep fried donuts, games, and general silliness, until about
For this season of Lent and forever more. Come, Lord Jesus. I am here. Waiting. Hoping. Loving. Seeking you.