I think I know how my ancient sisters felt on this day.
They who prepared the spices and the linens for the tomb.
Who cooked food for the mourners who would come by to whisper their grief and confusion and fear into each other's ears.
Whose tears would sprinkle the mundane tasks of the day with unspeakable sadness.
They did not know - could not know - what was about to happen.
How their world would be turned upside down and 'round right again.
How their confusion would turn to wonder.
Their wailing to shouts of joy.
Their broken hearts now open as a vehicle for love and healing.
They could not know.
Tonight we will recreate and live into the story of God's love for us.
From the Garden.
Through the Garden.
To the Garden.
Some will come. Many will stay home.
They do not know. They do not understand. What is about to happen.
So it is with the Resurrection. So it has always been.
We await its coming centuries after it has already arrived.
It continues to reveal itself in the midst of the mundane and that which is unspeakable.
Transforming
Our hearts.
Our minds.
Our lives.
So, into Holy Saturday, then.
To enter into the comfort of ancient rituals as a solace to ancient grief.
To prepare for the unexpected.
To wait.
To grieve the lowering of expectations.
To anticipate the rising hope of possibility.
I think I know how my ancient sisters felt on this day.
"Finally, I suspect that it is by entering that deep place inside us where our secrets are kept that we come perhaps closer than we do anywhere else to the One who, whether we realize it or not, is of all our secrets the most telling and the most precious we have to tell." Frederick Buechner
Come in! Come in!
"If you are a dreamer, come in. If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar, a Hope-er, a Pray-er, a Magic Bean buyer; if you're a pretender, come sit by my fire. For we have some flax-golden tales to spin. Come in! Come in!" -- Shel Silverstein
4 comments:
You forgot your ancient Brother.
Never. Ever.
Please help me. I have a terrible truth. A sin. I've attempted confession various times, but something, or myself, stops me. I believe in God, the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. I believe that Jesus died for my sins. But I don't FEEL that I am worth saving, and that I am worthy of his forgiveness. I had an abortion 34 years ago. I married several years later and have a beautiful family. As I get older, this truth keeps gnawing at me. I'm so, so sorry. I pray for forgiveness from the Father and from the spirit of the little, sweet innocent child I so selfishly destroyed.
I understand why you posted anonymously, but I'm sorry, I am really feeling like this is a "set up" and not at all genuine.
Having said that, my saying to you that you ARE, in fact, worthy in the sight of God will not convince you of that TRUTH.
Jesus tells us that if we ask for forgiveness, it is not only granted, it is granted even before we ask.
You can accept that and enjoy your beautiful family or you can continue tormenting yourself.
You have a choice. You can choose life. This life. Your life. And, live it to the fullest.
What will you do?
I hope you will choose life. Know this also to be true: The fetus you aborted is now safe in the arms of God.
I will pray for you.
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