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Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 4

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 4

Singing a New Song

As Christians we thrive on the joy of Easter.  We somehow expect that we are supposed to be “happy” all the time because we have the love of Jesus way down in our hearts.  In reality, we all face seasons in life when we cannot sing a joyful song.  Like the Israelites by the rivers of Babylon, we feel as if our captors are taunting us to sing praises to the Lord while they laugh in the face of our suffering (Ps. 137).  When the tragedy of Good Friday comes crashing into our Easter joy, how can we sing?…

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 3

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 3

The Holy Stillness of Saturday

Saturday is the day we remain haunted by the trauma of Friday.  The shouting has quieted, the mobs have gone home, and the bodies are buried, but the world still doesn’t feel right.  Yet, as Raleigh news anchor David Crabtree says, “I am hopeful because I am haunted.  If I wasn’t haunted, I wouldn’t realize I need hope.”[i]  Saturday is the day when we hope for Sunday to come, but we are not yet sure it will be any better.  We don’t have the hindsight that everything will work out the way we want it.  Yet being haunted by Friday drives us toward the hope of Sunday, whether we really believe such hope will be realized or not…

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 2

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 2

The Horror of Good Friday

…While Western Christians tend to live mostly in the protected and prosperous bubble of Easter, many still find themselves stuck on Good Friday.  No matter how much faith we may have, if we are honest, life tends to feel more like Good Friday than Easter.  When we look around at our world, it is easier to see more darkness than light, more hatred than peace, and more evil than good.  As we noted earlier, the hope of resurrection often feels too far out of reach.

The world of Good Friday is traumatic and reactionary, much like our world today… 

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 1

Finding Ourselves in Holy Week: Part 1

Welcome to the height of Holy Week…

Over these next few days, I invite us to consider Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday as metaphors for the wide range of human experience, from suffering to despair to hope, or from death to grief to new life.  When we fail to live and communicate the message of Emmanuel, the God who is with us in the in-between, we tend to get stuck on Good Friday or on Easter Sunday.  It has been said that Christians can be so heavenly minded that they are of no earthly good.  It is equally possible to become so earthly minded that we can offer no hope of heaven.  While we wrestle with the darkness of Good Friday and proclaim the hope of Easter, perhaps what the world needs most in this in-between time is the message of that often-forgotten in-between day: Holy Saturday…

When Every Space Is Sacred...

When Every Space Is Sacred...

Chapter 1:
Surely the Presence

 

Then he said, “Come no closer!
Remove the sandals from your feet,
for the place on which you are standing is holy ground.”

Exodus 3:5

 

Thursday, May 10, 2018 - 6:00 AM: I packed up my small basement Airbnb in Raleigh, NC, stopped off for a coffee, and pulled into the church parking lot for the final day of a spiritual writers’ conference.  The preceding days, as is true for most conferences, felt like drinking from a fire hydrant.

I am not a morning person, but my mind had been racing with ideas that kept me up much of the night and I had to get it all on paper before the next wave of information and inspiration washed over me.  I intentionally arrived at the conference with more than enough time to spend an hour in the quiet sanctuary with my journal before the morning worship and keynote session began. 

To my surprise, I was not the first one there, or even among the first twenty.  The presence of other people was not a concern, but their choice to turn that quiet sanctuary into a social hall quickly put a damper on my quiet reflection time, particularly since the church also had a large fellowship area and entry hall available outside the sanctuary doors.  Had I known the sanctuary walls would be reverberating with the chatter of a half-dozen other conversations, I would have stayed at the coffee shop to write and process my thoughts.  Instead, it was all I could do to keep from unintentionally eavesdropping on those who had gathered early for fellowship.

While I wasn’t able to write down anything that had been on my mind through the night, I did have nearly an hour to reflect on a new thought, specifically, what has become of sacred space? …