Easter Joy

It was with joy and excitement that I watched Easter dawn. (I don’t mean to make anyone think I was up at dawn to see it; I refer to the lights being turned on at that point in the Easter Vigil when it is officially Easter.) The miracle of the resurrection seemed more real to me than ever before.

As I continue to contemplate Easter I also experience sadness for those Christians who don’t make the investment needed to fully experience it. In the churches I’ve spent most of my adult life attending, Lent was tossed out along with all the other “archaic man made traditions”. I remembered lent from my childhood in a Lutheran Church and always felt that we, in the churches without the Lenten experience, were missing something important. This year was my second Easter in the Episcopal Church and I still feel such a sense of relief to be able to fully celebrate Easter by participating in the preparation of lent! Perhaps it is just a matter of personal preference for me, while others reap the fullness of Easter without the Lenten experience. All I know is that I need the wilderness wandering of Lent in order to fully embrace the joy of Easter.

This past week I’ve had that “post Christmas” feeling….a sort of let down after the big event. I lived on the anticipation of Easter for forty days, plus Sundays, and now that it’s come and gone I find myself wondering, “now what?”. I must remind myself though that Easter is a beginning, not an end in itself. The party’s not over, it’s just getting started! CHRIST IS RISEN, and that opens up a multitude of possibilities.

Lenten Journey: Brief Commentary

HE IS RISEN!!
HE IS RISEN INDEED! ALLELUIA!!

It was with great joy that I welcomed the Light as we celebrated the Easter Vigil this evening at church. The last week has been quite intense.

The story of my lenten journey, begun on Ash Wednesday and concluding after the Vigil, is a bit more than just a story. I saw (in my mind) everything I wrote, while in prayer or worship usually, but it was more than just a vision in my mind….it was as though some part of me was in those places experiencing those things and having those conversations. I really don’t know quite how to explain it. Last evening during the Good Friday service was especially intense. I silently cried through the whole thing because of where I was and what I was seeing in my mind. I didn’t want to see the crucifixion. I knew that God was not forcing me to do this; I could have stopped these mind movies at any time had I chosen to do so. I heard Jesus speak to my heart, “Do you love me enough to watch this?” How could I say no?

Some things I saw on my journey surprised me. Before this experience I had never even considered that “God” included a distinct feminine persona; I just thought that God the Father included both fatherly and motherly attributes. What does THIS do to the Trinity? To be honest, I’m a little shaken up by this; but just because something doesn’t seem to fit with anything I’ve heard before doesn’t mean it’s to be dismissed. The Bible says nothing of women being present at the Last Supper either, but that doesn’t rule out the possibility. It really doesn’t matter to me one way or the other. All I know is that God is so much bigger than the boxes we put him/her in. If I open my heart and my mind, even a little, I beleive that things far beyond the scope of my imagination can happen. This lenten journey has given me a taste, and I have to say, “I want more, Lord.”

Lenten Journey Conclusion: The End and the Beginning

My heart feels as though the sun should never shine again, yet today has dawned sunny and bright. I know that I cannot remain in this place much longer, yet I am not sure where to go. I feel like whatever my being here was about, it is not quite finished yet.

Even as I was ponder these things, there is a knock at the door. I open it and the same man that met me at the city gate is there. I can hardly believe my ears when he speaks, “Mary and some other women went to his tomb and he is not there!” Could it be that a miracle has happened? Some have said that he himself predicted that he would rise from death. Is it possible?Not waiting for someone to tell me I shouldn’t, I go out the door and head for the garden tomb where he had been taken after his death. Had I indeed followed the Son of God into the wilderness? If he is alive then it must be so, but I must see for myself. I wander the paths of the dew kissed garden wondering what I might encounter, when suddenly he was before me. I did not know it was him at first, but when he looked at me….yes, then there was little doubt. “Is it really you?”, I question him. “Look into your heart, you know the answer,” he replies. “Yes, it is you; and yes, you are who I have heard said that you are,” I say. “And you are the one,” he says to me, “who left the comfort of your oasis and followed me into the swirling sands of the desert. You are the one who overcame your fear and reluctance to take the difficult path I directed you to take. You are the one who opened your heart to my light and to an unexpected companion. You are the one who loved me enough to watch me die.” “And now I am here before you,” I say as I kneel at his feet. “You are alive and I am at the end of my journey. It has been hard, but I wish it were not over.” We are silent for a long while, then I rise at his bidding. “This is not the end, but the beginning. All is not lost, but rather all is gained. Go now on your way. Dance with the stars and dance with me. Listen as we sing your song. Listen, listen and sing along, and you will never lose your way.”

It is Finished

Looking upon him hanging there on that cross, watching him bleed, gasping with each searingly painful breath he took, I become very angry. “How can this be happening? How can God let this happen?”, I cry aloud. “How can people come here and watch this like it’s entertainment? A good, decent, loving, and I might add innocent, man is being slowly and painfully put to death while people stand around acting like this is a good time! Unbelievable! This is madness!” I look up at him on the cross and at that very moment he raises his head slightly and looks, or so it seems, right at me. His eyes close and he speaks, “Father, forgive them. They do not know what they are doing or to whom they are doing it.”

Now I am speechless. Who IS this man, talking about forgiveness in the midst of this nightmare? I knew from the first moment I saw him that he was a holy man, a very holy man; that is why I was compelled to follow him into the wilderness that began this journey in the first place. But, surely, no man is so holy as to behave in the manner of this man! I ponder all this silently, while slowly the time passes and the crowd begins to thin. The only thing that I know for sure is that I will never be the same after what I have witnessed here this day; maybe none of us here will be.Just as I am thinking that the end must be near I see one of the guards take off his helmet, throwing it and his sword on the ground while shouting, “I will not be a part of this any longer!” As he hastily leaves the scene, I hear him upon the cross utter his final words, “It is finished.” We all knew he was dead at last, yet one of those insanely cruel guards has to go and thrust his spear into the man’s side just to make sure. I close my eyes and weep with the others around me.

It is nearly dark by now, yet it is not evening. It is an unnatural darkness like before a storm, only much darker. I wonder if it is the darkness of evil itself unleashed. Suddenly a flash of lightening splits the sky and a clap of thunder so loud that it leaves me shaking. I overhear someone say in anguish, “Surely this was the son of God that we have put to death this day.”

Arrival at Death Hill

We fight our way through the crowds and plant ourselves in a spot near the end of the road to that fateful hill. When I hear the noise of the crowd getting louder I know that he is approaching. I look in horror at a man, bloody and beaten, too weak even to carry the cross that had been thrust upon him. I see him fall, then a guard hastily grabs a man from the crowd and orders him to carry the cross the remainder of the way. The party continues on their way with soldiers prodding from behind the one whom I now know that I too love. I want to look away as he passes where I stand, but I cannot. I look: I look into his eyes, hoping that my love will give him some small spark of comfort and strength. What I see there, in those eyes astounds me. These are not the eyes of a man defeated. No, these are the eyes of a man serenely in control.

The crowd around me begins to move toward the crucifixion hill. My companion looks back for me, and I indicate to her to go on without me. She then comes back and insists, “You must come!” “I don’t want to see any more of this”, I tell her. “You must come! He needs us now!,” she says as she takes my hand and begins to walk away. Having no choice but to follow, I go.

When we arrive at the hill, I want to stay at the back of the crowd but my companion insists on getting as close as possible. “He needs to see that we are here for him”, she vehemently repeats. Two other men are already hanging in the throes of death upon their crosses on that hill. We find a spot near where this third cross is to be erected just as a guard throws the wooden instrument of death to the ground and and another orders, “Get this criminal on it so we can get this thing up!” If he cried out when they nailed his hands and feet to that cross I could not hear for the loud jeering of some and the even louder wailing of the rest of us. I close my eyes, ashamed that I have not the strength to watch this scene. I wish that I were anyplace other than this place; this place that I call Death Hill.

The Story Continues: Waiting

I returned to the house where I had first been with some of the women. Hearts were heavy and few words were spoken as we all, I think, sensed that something was about to happen that would not be good.

“They’ve taken him!”, angrily shouts the man as he bursts through the door. “They’ve taken him away to stand trial for treason and who knows what other trumped up charges!”, he continued. He left as quickly as he had come and we all stood in stunned silence. “What should we do?”, asked one of the women. The elder among us said that we must remain where we are and pray, so that is what we did.Periodically the man who had first alerted us to the news, whom I recognized from the dinner, would bring us updates on the horrible situation. The last time he came he was no longer angry, just defeated. “They are leading him within the hour to that hill outside the city where they crucify criminals,” he stated, shaking his head. “I don’t understand how this could happen!”, he moaned as he left. The elder of the women took charge immediately and told us that we must go now and place ourselves along the route, so that he will see the faces of those who love him all along the way. In haste she then grabbed my hand and and said, “Come with me.” I did not want to go anywhere near this mess, but I went.

The Journey Continues to the City

My mysterious and loving companion continued on with me until we had left the shadows of the towering rocks behind. We were approaching a city when she left me in a swirl of sparkling light. “You must go now into the city alone, yet remember, you are never alone,” were her parting words.

I approach the ancient looking city alone, yet not alone, wondering what is to come next. I do not know how I can be here, but I know that this city is Jerusalem. The city is walled and as I approach the gate I wonder if I, an unknown woman alone, will even be permitted to enter. To my surprise, I am greeted at the gate by a solemn looking man who apparently has been waiting for me. “Come with me,” he directs. I follow him through a maze of narrow streets until stopping at a house he knocks. A woman answers, nods to the man as he turns to leave, then invites me inside. “We have been waiting for you,” she says with a smile. Several other women in the house gather round, washing my feet, my hands, and my face, and help to remove my dusty outer garments. After being given fresh clothes I am told that we will be going to a dinner in a short time.With evening approaching I go again through the maze of streets with my new companions. We arrive at a house and ascend by an outer stair to the upper floor. Two tables, low and surrounded with cushions for sitting, are set for a meal. At the largest sit two women, with an empty space between them, and a dozen or so men to their sides. Another man, a servant perhaps, is washing the feet of one of the men as we take our seats at the second table. I can’t see the servant’s face, but the man whose feet he is washing is the one who met me at the city gate.

When we are seated, the man who was washing feet takes his place at the main table between the two women. The man is not a servant, but rather the one who bid me to leave the oasis and follow him into the wilderness. He speaks a blessing and the meal begins. It is not an ordinary dinner; it is the Passover that we celebrate this night. I watch intently as, at the end of the meal, he takes bread and breaking it tells us that it is his body and that we should eat it and remember him. I felt as though I were in a dream as I put the coarse bread into my mouth. Then he takes a cup of wine and tells us that it is his blood, the blood of a new covenant. Some of the men begin to weep as they drink from that cup; most of the women already were by then, myself included. I’ve never before tasted wine so rich and both bitter and sweet at the same time.

Soon after that the men, and the two women whom I found out later were both called Mary, took their leave. The rest of us stay to clean up after the meal. What little of the bread and wine that were left are eaten and drunk by those clearing that table. They said that they couldn’t bear to just toss it out. When everything is cleared away we take cloths and clean the tables, then blow out the lights, leaving the empty room in darkness.

Lenten Journey: Part 5

The road I travel through this rocky place is no longer treacherous. The rocks no longer tower so high as to engulf me in continual shadow. I see a light space ahead. I think, perhaps, that the worst of this journey is over, yet I am so very aware of my aloneness.

Suddenly, a companion appears at my side. My heart leaps as the woman greets me. “Will you travel with me?,” she cheerfully asks. “Happily,” I reply. As we journey on, sharing stories and comfortable silence, I begin to realize that I know this woman. I do not know her name or from whence she came, but rather I know her essence. It is a comfort to be with my companion and I am nearly afraid to question her, yet I must know, “Who ARE you?” “I am she of he,” is her cryptic reply. “I know you well,” she continues. “I hear when you sing, when you pray, and when you cry. I dance with the stars and I dance with you. I know your name. I sing your song. I am she of he and WE ARE.A great peace, peace from her, washes over me. I am honored that she walks by my side. I have a sense of being so intensely loved by this mysterious woman at my side. “I do not quite understand,” I say. “Understanding is not necessary,” my companion instructs, “only faith.” Tears of joy fall from my eyes as she takes my hand.

Journey: Holy Light

I have walked through the shadows and faced my fears of the unknown. I walk now toward a light that I see ahead. I long for the light. When I come to that place, I kneel in the strong beam of light that shines down between the towering rocks that surround me. “Warm me, oh sun that shines,” I say to no one. Then I realize that this light is even brighter than the sun, and I wonder from where it comes. I know only that it is a holy light.

Pierce my heart with your sword of Light,
Cut from me all that is rotten and stinking and useless.

Let me arise to the stars and with them sing your praise.

Burn like a fire within my soul.
A fire that even should it be deprived of air,
it will continue to burn stronger and brighter until
nothing is left save the fire itself,
fueled by it’s own energy.

Lenten Journey: Part 3

I see someone off in the distance, barely distinguishable as a person. I know without knowing that it is he whom I followed into this wilderness. I pick up my pace, eager to see him again.

I instinctively fall at his feet upon reaching him. Filled with a sense of gratitude for his presence, I honor him. “What is it that you need?” he asks me as he takes my hand to help me rise. “Need?”, I wonder aloud. “My knee is hurting and sometimes my hip too from rigors of this journey, not to mention the fact that I am weary,” I offer. “Will you help me?”, I ask. “I will help you,” he gently replies, “but go deeper. What do you need?” Suddenly I am filled with shame. “I need help to control my mind as it wanders into places I should not go,” I tell him with downcast eyes. My own thoughts have been my hardest obstacle on this journey. He tenderly lifts my chin so that I will meet his gaze. “You must go this way now,” he says as he turns and points in a different direction than I had previously been traveling.My gaze follows his hand and I see towering rocks with a small path leading through the shadows between them. “I thought you would help me!” I exclaim. “Instead, you point me to this dark path that is surely more difficult even that where I’ve already been.” Disappointment wells up with in me as I continue to vent my frustration. “At least walking through this desert I can see what’s coming. Nothing can take me by surprise. That path…that road is in shadows with unknown dangers around every bend!” “Come,” he says as he takes my hand, “ I’ll walk with you for a while.”