ALLELUIA in abundance

Happy Easter!!

We’re in the midst of the octave of Easter—eight days especially for rejoicing—and then we can celebrate the awesomeness of the Easter miracle for many more days.

I have a personality type that loves to be set to “fun” and “joy,” and I love to celebrate the goodness of God as much as possible.

Still, during this Octave of Easter days, I am making an extra effort to do special things each day to keep the Easter party going on. I made a bunny cake one day. I wore my Easter best dress another. Every day I am praying with praise and gratitude. I am refusing to fast, or diet, or deprive myself.

I am focusing on the freedom that comes from the resurrection. I am worshiping and praising God with joyful tunes and abundant Alleluias. This feels especially freeing after all the penance of Lent gave me such a new, fresh start.

God is so good! Let us praise Jesus and thank him over and over for all he is for us.

Amen!

Photo credit: http://www.puretravel.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Guide-to-How-Easter-is-Celebrated-Around-the-World.jpg

Easter Sunday: ordinary resurrections and trembling tombs

Alleluia!! Alleluia! He lives, and laughs death right in its face, saying,
Surprise, surprise! Nothing can kill this everlasting love!

Ordinary resurrections are everywhere.

There are glimpses of light where despair was once too intense for hope! The broken bone has healed completely. The child awoke from the terrifying coma. Your neighbor offered you an unexpected invitation to dinner. A relationship has been mended. Ugly habits have decreased; renewal found you in the Lenten desert. The tendency of that cruel colleague to snap at you decreased. The struggling student earned a high grade. New, green life is bursting forth through dismal ground.

Amazingly, the love that has caused this freedom made tombs of all sorts tremble.

The grumpy, over-stressed grandmother lets out a big belly laugh. The violent mind experiences a moment of truth and compassion. The refugee child squeals with joy, seeing the father from which she was separated. Tears fall down cheeks while the family, once divided, laughs over an Easter feast, forgetting what caused the rift between them. Joy beams through border fences, and all are welcomed to the feast.

 

Our awesome God is victorious, and today is a day to celebrate!!!

Happy Easter, Messy Jesus Business readers!

"open tomb" photo by Julia Walsh FSPA
“open tomb” photo by Julia Walsh FSPA

Good Friday: The crosses we create

Today, this high holy day, at liturgies worldwide, we will know no sacrifice at the banquet table.

Communion will be different, stirring up spiritual hungers to remind us of the pain of our loss, the awfulness of the absence of Christ. On this solemn day, an unusual ritual will file us forward; all of us are all called to reverence the cross.

station 8

For me, reverencing the cross is really a ritual of bizarre paradox. All at once, we grieve the death of our beloved Jesus and give thanks for the freedom his death has permitted us. We meditate on his wounds, the lashes, the whip cracks and the cries of anguish and celebrate his non-violent love so freely expressed. And, we kneel in awe and wonder and cry with an awareness that our sin caused his pain.

 

Ultimately, in the midst of paradox, this is the day for us to acknowledge our sins, simple and complex, which have created crosses for others. We ignored an opportunity to learn about an overwhelming social issue and enter into solidarity when we turned off the bad news. We became part of the crowd that yelled, “CRUCIFY.”

We refused to speak out against—or to even realize—the ways that we accept and allow racist systems to continue, economically and politically. We burdened others with heavy beams.

We wrongly decided to put our recyclable waste in the bin headed straight for the landfill. We cut wounds right into God’s creation.

We let selfishness consume us and ignored our coworkers in need of God’s mercy. We handed them a crown of thorns.

We didn’t learn to love our hurting, peaceful, Muslim neighbors and reacted to the news of another terrorist attack with cruel assumptions and accusations. We decided we didn’t want to love our enemies. We pounded them with nails of violence and judgment.

We gave into materialism and wasted our wealth on superficial pleasure, cheating on our fasting. A spear of greed pierced our side.

 

We are part of the picture of Jesus crucified. Rightfully, our hearts are sad and dark on this day.

Let us unite with Jesus on the cross, for his drops of blood reveal our sinful ways.

 Yet it was our pain that he bore,

our sufferings he endured.

We thought of him as stricken,

struck down by God and afflicted,

But he was pierced for our sins,

crushed for our iniquity.

He bore the punishment that makes us whole,

by his wounds we were healed.

Isaiah 53:4-5

 

Signs of spring in Lent

During this Lenten season, more than any other Lent, I am getting how significant it is that Lent means spring.

Lent is also a time for us to connect to the meaning of desert; to magnify the event of Jesus fasting in the desert for 40 days to prepare for his public ministry in our own lives.

As a Midwesterner, I don’t know much about deserts. I’ve visited some deserts in places like Namibia and New Mexico though, and have always found the environment very strange and mysterious; it’s not really barren as a lot of life and beauty thrives in the dryness. I certainly don’t know much about springtime in such a landscape, but I understand that desert dwellers also experience the season—just very differently than we do here in the Midwest.

Yet, I know Lent is really not about the dryness and emptiness we associate with deserts—even though it’s often what fasting feels like at first. Rather, Lent is about signs of spring: refreshment, renewal and growth.

We manifest these signs of spring to each other as we offer gestures of love, kindness and service to one another during these 40 days. Our actions make us into signs and transform the world around us. We freshen the environment, the culture, and our community and make marks of preparation. In a way, our actions become like little party decorations that get us really ready for the power, mystery, conversion and celebration that happens in Holy Week.

Our Lenten actions are definitely signs of spring. Our prayers, fasting and almsgiving are vibrant signs of hope for a hurting humanity. Our works of mercy in motion can be encouragement for each other, when we keep flopping and failing in our Lenten practices, getting discouraged and realizing, again, how much we need God.  As we share Christ’s love may we keep our eyes open and see the green life coming forth from each of us, and may we keep our ears open to hear the beautiful, encouraging songs of the returned birds.

The signs of spring are all around us in this Lenten desert. May we lean on each other as a beloved community and see each other as signs of real renewal and hope.

Amen!

photo by Julia Walsh, FSPA
Photo by Julia Walsh, FSPA

 

Fear and sandwiches

 

On most days at work, I sit down and eat lunch with at least a few people who are, more or less, on the opposite side of the political spectrum from myself. While we agree on many of the problems our country faces, our ideas on how to solve them vary wildly. There are, of course, some issues on which we harmoniously agree, but they seem rare. And in our current political climate, in which nuance is lost and all that matters is who you finally cast your vote for, the candidates for whom I vote are not the candidates for whom my co-workers do. I cannot imagine voting for the people they support.A slap in the face from the Lord

And I am told that, thus, we are enemies. They are foolish and ignorant; what’s wrong with America. My co-workers are possibly evil, and reasoning with them is of no use. These people must be defeated and crushed—preferably at the polls—but if that fails perhaps more drastic action is needed. And I’m sure this is exactly what my office mates are told about me.

But for the life of me, I cannot see them this way. They might be my political rivals, in some certain contexts, on some certain days when we must both fill out our ballots … but they are also my friends. They are my family. They are good people who live generous and beautiful lives.

I do not fear them. I do not hate them. I love them. And I do not mean this in some abstract, detached way. I know their names, and they know mine. I love them and long for their good and, I truly believe, they long for mine. I work and relax with these people—they have watched my daughter play and grow. On workdays we share the lunch table and on Sunday we gather together around the table of the Lord.

©iStockphoto.com\(kcline)
Photo courtesy of iStockphoto.com\(kcline

Our divisions only become truly dangerous when we do not know one another. Danger creeps in when we start to fear people as nameless, faceless bogeymen waiting for us in the dark, rather than flesh and blood persons with real names and real stories. With a person, no matter how different they happen to be, you can compromise, you can learn something, you can conspire goodness together. You can’t reason with faceless shadows … you can only fear them, and then hate them.

So my challenge to you is—is there any one person or group that you fear? If so, see if you can break bread with them. As Franklin Roosevelt said, “We have nothing to fear but fear itself.” Fear is the real enemy, and I have found that nothing banishes fear like a sandwich split in two.

Loving our enemies in an age of fear

Recently, I have heard a lot of people say “If that person becomes our president, I am seriously terrified about what might happen to our world.” Each time I’ve heard this, I have noticed I am quick to empathize with them, to nod in agreement, to let my own fears be voiced and magnify the concern in their comment. Basically, I keep finding that I tend to contribute to the fear mongering and help make a mountain of fear from a molehill of concern.

This recent pattern has left me wondering: What happened to my tendency to be an optimistic person? Why are we all so afraid? And, how is Christ really inviting us to respond during this Lenten season?

I don’t think I have it all figured out. But, I am pretty sure about this: practically everyone I know — including myself — is…

[This is the beginning of my latest column for the online newspaper, Global Sisters Report. Continue reading here.]

Photo credit: http://tom1st.com/2014/03/30/big-fear-little-fear-fear-fear-fear/