Two downcast women, deep in grief and weighed down by pain and suffering,
laboriously take one step at a time in the direction of their pain –
unable to avoid the inevitable,
unable to make sense of the senseless,
unable to do anything other than that which they know must be done:
funnel whatever energy remains into tender touch
for the one they so deeply loved,
for the one they so painfully lost.

In their anguish, their eyes stay fixed on the ground,
not wanting to be doing what they’re doing,
not wanting to be getting closer to the crux of their pain with each step,
not wanting to have to figure out how to do the heavy lifting that is awaiting them.

They are so weighed down already.

They murmur to each other:
How will we do this?
How will we carry on?
How can we get past the oppressive weight?

The path comes to an end.
They slowly look up.
Their eyes widen.
Things are not as they expected.

The heavy lifting has already been done.
This is, indeed, Good News! Hallelujah!

Thank you for “signing up” and journeying with all of us at Goshen College during this season of Lent. We trust that your journey has been enriched by having others to walk alongside you during these days of struggle and suffering on the road to new life. Now as you live into the season of Easter may you do so with a lightness in your step and a persistent awareness that the heavy lifting has already been taken care of. Carry on in wonder and amazement! Hallelujah!

NOTE FROM THE EDITORS:

Join us again for devotions when the season of Advent begins (unless you unsubscribe, they will automatically come to you when they begin again in late November 2012).

I remember growing up in church hearing the stories about Jesus feeding the multitudes, healing the sick, making the lame man walk and bringing Lazarus back from the dead. I wondered how could a man perform such miracles. As a child, my wonder was more of an amazement and awe of how God could do all these things that appeared to be impossible and simply believed. However, as an adult, our wonder can sometimes turn into times of questioning and doubt of “how can I believe?”

The passages today remind us that Jesus Christ is Lord of all. He is Lord of our needs, worries, sicknesses, deaths, finances, community and world. Like Jesus, we have access to be anointed with the Holy Spirit and power to go about doing good and praying and believing with others that he continues to be Lord of all. He is our Creator, Comforter, Healer, Redeemer, Deliverer, Provider, Sustainer, Restorer, Lover, Savior and so much more. The text ends by stating that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sin.

Beyond forgiveness, today I challenge you to BELIEVE like a child that Jesus Christ is Lord of all. Whatever your life situation might be – graduating with no definite plans, recently losing a loved one or simply feeling unsure about where you are at in your relationship with God – do as Cornelius did in this chapter: fear God, give alms generously (time and money) and pray constantly. The God of peace shall answer you as he did on this day.

SCRIPTURE: Acts 10:34-43 (NRSV)

34 Then Peter began to speak to them: “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, 35 but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. 36 You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ—he is Lord of all. 37 That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: 38 how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. 39 We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; 40 but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, 41 not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. 42 He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. 43 All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.”

Jesus does something incredibly curious as he’s sitting with his friends the night he’s arrested. He acts, as Jesus often does, in a way that causes us to pause. In John’s highly narrated account of Jesus’ last supper with his disciples, we read an explanation of Jesus’ thought process.

In verse 3, “Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands,” does what any of us would do when given ultimate understanding of life … he takes off his robe and begins to wash feet. Wait. What?

Everything has been put into his hands; he’s come from God and he’s going back to God. And his response to this understanding is to kneel and become like a servant to his disciples? Does that make any sense at all?

Growing up, a constant part of my family’s Holy Week traditions included attending our church’s Maundy Thursday service. At this service, we often re-enacted Jesus washing the feet of his disciples by washing the feet of those gathered with us. There’s something captivating about foot washing. It’s abnormal for us; it’s outside of the ordinary. Frankly, it’s humbling and uncomfortable. Yet Jesus sets this as an example before us all.

So, how do we respond to Jesus’ offer to wash our feet? What about his call to wash the feet of others?

If you stretch this to apply to serving daily, it gets hard. Do you need to wash someone’s feet today? Or maybe there’s someone who you haven’t let wash your feet?

We lost Grandma during Lent this year.

Growing up, staying at Grandma’s house was a treat. We had our routine. Breakfast always included homemade bread and vitamin C. Grandpa always read Scripture; Grandma read the meditation. Grandpa prayed for each child and grandchild before the day began. At the close of each day, Grandma would dole out cran-raspberry juice to each of us, hug us and send us to bed.

These rituals became the markers of good times at Grandma’s house. A lot of activity always occurred between the homemade bread and the cran-raspberry juice during the day. We gathered, we talked, we worked, we played. We knew we were loved, we knew where we belonged.

The week before Grandma died, I had the privilege of visiting with her one last time. We talked about times when she cared for my sisters and me, as well as my cousins. We talked about Goshen College and how she believed in this place. When it was time for me to leave, we shared cran-raspberry juice, she hugged me and told me she loved me.

The night Jesus prepared himself and his disciples before the crucifixion, he offered a ritual of sharing a meal together marking the group who shared in his ministry. Perhaps they did not understand fully, but they believed in something greater than themselves. While accustomed to Jewish Passover rituals, the new order required a new symbol of joining, of signing up.

At 99 years of age, my grandma knew what it meant to sign up. Even when hospice arrived and asked her about her goals, she replied without hesitation, “I want to serve God and join Jesus in heaven forever.”

We remember, we sign up, we are loved, we belong.

Have you ever really taken the time to listen to what a middle schooler had to say? There are some who call me crazy, but middle school is my favorite age group for a variety of reasons, including their stark honesty, humor, energy, emerging autonomy and individuality, to name a few. I also love the way that middle schoolers reach out and desire so badly to connect with others, to be important in the sense that they feel listened to. To be recognized gives us human beings a sense of importance to what can seem like our otherwise insignificant humanity.

Deep down inside each one of us, a piece of that middle schooler never truly goes away. We have the need to be heard. In the first two verses of today’s Scripture, the psalmist says it this way: “I love the Lord, because he has heard my voice and my supplications. Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live.”

I get the image of God leaning in, taking sincere interest in what is being said. When I talk to God, I know it’s not always pretty and eloquent. It can perhaps be irrational, desperate and raw. But nonetheless God listens and cares. We not only serve a God that listens, but a God who answers us and acts on the behalf of his children. May we be comforted in the fact that we are heard. We can call on and rely on God to listen as long as we live.

As a kid, did your mom ever whisper to you when you left for summer camp, a sleepover or a date, “Don’t forget who you are and where you came from”? At the time, I thought that my mom just didn’t want me to embarrass her or my family. So it wasn’t until I was older that I understood that my mom had a deeper desire for me: to remember my roots, my values, my faith, and, most importantly, that I am a child of God like everyone I meet.

In today’s Scripture, God offers an invitation for the Israelites to remember as well. In the midst of persecution and on the cusp of deliverance, God initiates this annual faith festival of remembrance called Passover, complete with good food and community. God wants his children to always remember that it was God who offered protection and that they were to not participate in the judgment and vengeance.

This week we remember and celebrate a different path that God takes to redeem, deliver and save us: Jesus, the Lamb of God, gives up his own life rather than taking others’. Instead, he died for all, even his enemies. He died in an invitation of reconciliation, that there would no longer be an “us” and a “them,” but rather a recognition that “we” are all God’s children.

Let’s join him this Holy Week on the path of reconciliation in ourselves and with our families and friends. And let us be trumpets for peace in this world that seems bent on judgment, division, vengeance and war. For as long as we remember that we have each been created in the image of God – even our enemies – we might not make the same mistakes. Let us imagine that God is whispering to us: “Don’t forget who you are and where you came from.”

Three jars took up residence atop my bedroom dresser soon after I first started earning money as a child. One was labeled “savings,” another “spending” and the third “tithe.” A percentage of every dollar grossed found a home in one of those jars. I lamented how a lone dollar yielded so little spending power after what I considered such severe dissection. I wish I had a fantastic story about how I filled that “savings” jar by the sweat of my brow and exemplary discipline and then purchased some coveted treasure. But I only remember dutifully counting out the right change into the right jar, never removing the savings, taking the tithes to Sunday school and buying Sugar Daddies, popsicles and jaw breakers at the corner store up the street. With time I came to appreciate the lesson of money management and my jar trio tutor.

This week our Scriptures will focus on practices and sacraments of our faith; some of them newly instituted by Christ during the Holy Week prior to his death. Jesus knew the disciples would not fully understand the meaning behind the actions of washing feet and taking the cup and bread as his body and blood. But he also knew the significance would kick in later when his physical presence was gone and they would need reminders of what he had given them and how he had fulfilled the Father’s will and plan.

As present day believers, we have the advantage of time perspective and can read the story of Jesus from beginning to end. But yet I think Christ is saying again today, that what he does now we will understand later. I Corinthians 13:12 says, “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known.”

We know some about the significance and sacrificial love of our Lord in observing faith practices like communion or baptism, but as we partake in the elements of this season let’s anticipate and ask him for ‘later’ understanding as well.

As you read this, I am with a group of pilgrims preparing for another Palm Sunday procession. Literally, we are “approaching Jerusalem, at Bethphage and Bethany, near the Mount of Olives,” where Jesus sent two disciples to find a donkey colt for him to ride into Jerusalem by way of the Lion’s Gate. I have made this pilgrimage before. As a child, I wildly waved my palm branch, circling around the sanctuary with adults lined up regiment-like in their pews. As an adult, I’ve waved my palm branch in an annual “peace parade” from the poor neighborhoods of Pasadena to the center of power and consumption, City Hall and the mall nearby. I have acted out this story for many years in various places and in varied ways. Once before, I joined thousands of other pilgrims from all over the world, waving branches and shouting, “Hosanna!” as we made our way from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem retracing the very footpath of Jesus so many years ago. It’s a procession laden with meaning and choice.

As fast as primary voters might switch loyalties, within the week from Palm Sunday to Easter, “Hosanna in the highest!” became “Crucify him! Crucify him!” Holy Week, then and now, was and is a journey of consequence, a week of decisive choices. And choice, not chance, determines destiny – ours and the world’s. What will be our destiny after this week is over? Will we sign on to the way of Jesus, at the end of the week as well as today? Will our Hosannas still be Hosannas at the end of the week? Even though Christ may lead us “through the valley of the shadow of death,” into cross-bearing places among thieves, will we sign on? Will we sign on to follow such a Savior, who rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, instead of a warhorse, to surrender his life for the sake of others, for you, for me? This Sunday, as I enter Jerusalem at the Lion’s Gate with my palm branch waving, I want to sign on for life. “Hosanna in the highest heaven; Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

PRAYER:

God, mercifully grant that we, walking in the shadow of the cross, find it none other than the way of life and peace. Hosanna, our Lord Christ, who lives and reigns with God forever and ever. Amen.

Today in my Restorative Justice class we were invited into an exercise in which a statement was said – “English should be the official language of the United States” for example – and were told to take a stand by walking to the side of the room labeled either “agree” or “disagree.” As the statements were read, we moved in a hesitant shuffle to our side of choice. As the period went on, we began to notice a trend that we all moved together between agreeing and disagreeing, and that it was at first difficult for us to truly break out from the pack and say, “You know, I think I actually disagree with this one.” I realize this partly comes with the territory of being with peers who share much in common. However, no matter what the similarities or differences between us, it was too easy to get caught up in the majority opinion.

Before Jesus rode the famous donkey through the streets of Jerusalem, he made quite a name for himself by raising his friend Lazarus from the dead and performing other miracles. By the time he walked through the city, people had heard of Jesus and were excited about his arrival and went out to praise him (John 12:18). Both the disciples and the Pharisees recognized that the people gathered only to catch a glimpse of this new celebrity. But, in a beautiful gesture, Jesus accepted the people’s praise despite their seemingly little knowledge of his message.

It is much easier to celebrate when others celebrate. It is easy to dance when others are dancing and to sing when others are singing. But, how often do we wave our palm branches, shout and sing “Hosanna!” when no one else is? Instead of relying on others to determine for us what we should think, believe or say, Jesus gives us the invitation to know for ourselves that he is King. And in doing so, to praise him freely even when you are the only one. And in turn, to seek answers in him when you are afraid. For, as Jesus told the crowd in Jerusalem “Do not be afraid, O Daughter of Zion. Your King is coming, seated on a donkey’s colt” (John 12:15). Do not be afraid to worship, to speak up, to be divergent, to listen to the minority or to join the song with the masses. Jesus invites us to celebrate his message not by following people, but by following him.

“Open to me the gates of righteousness…”
“This is the Lord’s doing…”
“This is the day that the Lord has made…”

These three phrases within Psalm 118 suggest to me that the Lord is in control. God is the gatekeeper inviting us to simply enter through the gates and give thanks, to accept the Lord’s grace and receive righteousness.

Fr. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest, defines life as two halves in his book Falling Upward. In the “the first half of life,” we tend to be preoccupied with order, control, safety, pleasure and certitude. We manage and define ourselves out of fear. Rohr goes on to note that life is about much more than building boundaries, protecting identities, creating tribes and teaching impulse control. It is in what he calls “the second half of life” that we find “the inner experience of God.” The need to differentiate ourselves, our faith or our place in society as superior is past. We no longer feel the need to have such strong opinions about everything. We find more contentment in what we share in common than in how we influence and change others.

For all the benefit of Apple’s technology, cutting edge influence and impact of change on the world, I am reminded of the story of its co-founder Steve Job’s final words. His sister Mona Simpson, shared in her eulogy after his death last fall: “Before embarking, he’d looked at his sister Patty, then for a long time at his children, then at his life’s partner, Laurene, and then over their shoulders past them. Steve’s final words were: OH WOW. OH WOW. OH WOW.” I can’t help but wonder if this man of great positive innovation, imagination and influence suddenly experienced something much greater.

As we live today, may we live in the acceptance of God’s invitation and God’s grace. May we find “the inner experience of God,” putting aside fear and our need to control. And as we look to the future, may we also anticipate great things to come as we enter God’s gates of righteousness. Both today, and that day “tomorrow,” are days that the Lord will have made.

“Oh give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever!”