Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 29, 2016

Words that Remain: Tuesday's Reflection

At St Paul Conservatory. Photo Credit: Bruce Agneberg
Lent is over. Holy Week was last week, and Easter Sunday has come and gone. What remains?

Today is a good day to sit still and see what floats up through the silence. 

"God renew." Each Wednesday evening at the Lenten service we chanted this phrase in response to petitions for all creation. I pray for renewal of all creation and that includes me. What within me cries out for renewal?

An invitation to "unplug." To sit in silence for three minutes every day. Sitting in silence is not hard for me. I welcome and depend on the silence, but within that invitation was another deeper question. Where am I too attached? In what ways do I need to let go and unplug?

On Maundy Thursday we accepted a call to take off our socks and shoes and let someone wash our feet and then to wash the feet of another. An invitation to be vulnerable. An invitation to be tender and to receive another's care. 

That same evening the phrase "the unlikely friends of Jesus" was used and I thought about what Nadia Bolz-Weber says in her book Accidental Saints, Finding God in all the Wrong People, "Never once did Jesus scan the room for the best example of holy living and send that person out to tell others about him. He always sent stumblers and sinners. I find that comforting." Me, too. 

Good Friday we were each invited to lay our burdens on the cross in the form of a red ribbon. I named my burdens and failings, at least the ones I am aware of, in my heart, and asked for forgiveness and for relief and for clarity. 

"This is the night," we chanted at the Easter Vigil Saturday night. How often I say to myself and others, "If not now, when?" All of a sudden the "now" had come and there was no turning back. What have I missed because I waited too long? What is the threshold the night implores me to cross?

"Yes!" Sunday morning roared with "Yes!" "Yes to love. Yes to forgiveness. Yes to kindness and gentleness. Yes to life." You can read Pastor Bradley's sermon here.

These past weeks have been intense with words and images and encounters. Some weeks are like that, even without connection to specific traditions or beliefs. What remains, what will continue to resonate will unfold. My prayer is that each of us open our hearts to the prompts in front of us. To wake up. To become more whole.

An Invitation
What has called you, spoken to you recently? I would love to know. 





Tuesday, March 22, 2016

Palm Sunday A Few Days Later:Tuesday's Reflection


If you went to church this past Sunday you probably were given a palm branch to wave as you shouted, "Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!"

What did you do with your palm after church? 

I remember seeing palms tucked behind a picture of Christ in the home of childhood friends who were Catholic. You probably know the picture. A headshot of Jesus, looking more Scandinavian than like a Middle Eastern Jew. In some countries I understand the palms are placed on graves of loved ones who have died. Or the palms may be burned and the ashes preserved for use at Ash Wednesday services the next year. 

Whatever happens to the palms waved with reverence and respect, Palm Sunday signals the beginning of Holy Week, a time to reflect on the final week of Jesus' life. For practicing Christians it is a week of going to church a lot 

This week, no matter what your faith tradition or what your view of life may be, can be a week of reflection. 

Begin with noting what you reverence and respect. Continue with expressing what feels like a blessing in your life. Spend time at a table with loved ones and offer them gifts of fellowship and love. Allow yourself to feel a loss you have not yet fully realized. But then on Sunday, Easter Sunday, rejoice in new hope and life that continues to open for you. 

Imagine the swaying and waving of palms as you reflect on the many dimensions of your own life. May this be a time of new insight and growth. 

An Invitation
What is the invitation of this time of year for you? I would love to know. 

Note: Photos taken at St Paul Conservatory. 






Thursday, March 28, 2013

A Change in the Season and A Change of Attitude, A Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

Sometimes I shock myself--and not in a good way. I am stunned and embarrassed by how attached I can be to my view of how things should be and how I want them to be. Having our house on the market has certainly revealed that tendency. This past weekend a home just down the block from us came on the market at a price far below the assessed value. I obsessed and fretted about how that will affect the potential sale of our home. I tried to lift compassion towards the owners, knowing there must be a logical and perhaps difficult reason for their decision, but frankly, I was wrapped up in my own plans and hoped for outcomes. As I said, I am embarrassed. 
     I mentioned the new development to my exercise buddies Monday morning, saying, "It's done," meaning that our chances of selling our house have greatly diminished, but the minute I said that I realized I actually meant something quite different. I should have said, "I'm done. I surrender."
     Sara Davidson in Leap! What Will We Do With the Rest of Our Lives? says that giving up is being defeated, but surrender is an "expansive state, something active and pulsing...You open yourself to the unknown." As I said "It's done," I felt a physical response. I could feel myself expanding and opening. I relaxed and released, as Michael Singer encourages over and over in Untethered Soul, The Journey Beyond Yourself
     I have not given up. I will continue to welcome showings whenever they are requested, but I am not waiting for them nor anticipating them. If the house sells this spring, I will be delighted and will take a deep breath and shift gears into packing mode, but I am not counting on it and instead will be surprised and pleased. No, I don't feel defeated, but rather, I surrender, and amazingly, the fruits of surrendering appeared in my life almost immediately. 
     I am swelling with ideas for the writing projects I have started and increased interest and energy for working on those projects. I have an idea about a group I would like to start and am swirling with thoughts about developing that. I wake up in the middle of the night wondering if it is time to get up so I can return to my desk. I feel like popcorn exploding, and I am exhilarated gathering the ideas as they burst forth. At the same time I am relaxing my tight hold on the house and my vision of a constant "showing ready" state. It is all good. 
    Of course, surrender is a process, and I realize there will be setbacks. My challenge will be to let go of the thought that these past months have been a waste of time. I don't like wasting time, and it will be hard for me to reframe these months into a time of inner growth and greater insight into my spiritual being. Once again I turn to my well-worn copy of The Little Book of Letting Go by Hugh Prather (What? You don't have this book? Locate it immediately!) and read this statement, one I have read and reflected on many times, "By letting go of our desire to dominate outcomes, we don't sacrifice anything real, but we do open our heart and mind to the experience of wholeness." 
     We are in the midst of both Passover and Holy Week. Passover is a time to express gratitude for movement towards freedom, and Holy Week leads from Christ on the cross conceding "It is finished," to resurrection and new life. Yes!

What is hovering within you waiting to be surrendered? And what new thoughts and ideas and attitudes are poised to be born through you?