The Journey With Jesus: Holy Week In Jerusalem

During Jesus’ final week in Jerusalem events move quickly. The crowds that cry Hosanna on Palm Sunday, will gather again over the next days to hear Jesus teach in the temple, while at the same time their religious leaders will be plotting his death. On Thursday evening Jesus shares the Passover meal with his disciples, after which he is betrayed and handed over for trial. By Friday it looks like all is over. The crowds that cried Hosanna on Sunday, cry out for his crucifixion and he is killed and laid to rest. On Saturday as Jesus lies dead to the world, the people of God observe the Sabbath…

And then, just when it all appeared to be over, when it looked like death and darkness had triumphed, very early on Sunday morning a new day dawned…

 

You are invited to read through these passages each day this week as we spend time with Jesus through his final days in Jerusalem.

Palm Sunday, March 20—Luke 19:29–48

Monday, March 21—Luke 20:1–18

Tuesday, March 22—Luke 20:19–47

Wednesday, March 23—Luke 21:1–38

Thursday, March 24—Luke 22:1–71

Friday, March 25—Luke 23:1–55

Saturday, March 26—Luke 23:56; Psalms 22–23

Easter Sunday, March 27—Luke 24:1–53

Fifth Sunday in Lent

Sometime last decade, Tom incorporated a block of wood into a postlude. Yes, I'm serious. I don't remember the name of the composition, but it called for a high note to be sustained during the entire piece. Thus, Tom placed a block of wood on one of the keys on the console and placed the rest of the piece with his actual hands. The note sustained and persisted over top of everything else that was played.

We had our own bit of sustained sound this morning, but in a different manner. For the first five or ten minutes of the service, there was some sort of static that seemed to be coming through the sound system. (There's a bit of irony that the system that's supposed to help us hear the service was actually a hindrance...I guess there's a lesson there on our broken world and the challenges that we will always face. I'm not writing about that today, though.)

Eventually, the source of the static was detected and taken care of.

Of course, that's not all the background noise that ever occurs during a service. There are the creaking pews, people leafing through the bulletin, babies crying...and this morning, my daughter was in a bit of a chatty mood when we were in the service. Sorry about that (I asked her to be quiet, and she eventually complied).

It may not be obvious, but Hymn 588 is about static, too. It's about the sounds we have tried to shut out as we focus on growing in faith...but in this context, those sounds have been the voices of woman. Their wisdom and their truths silenced for centuries. Even as our congregation embraces women in leadership roles (obviously), we, too, will struggle with it. It's a society-wide problem. Women's voices and are opinions are much more easily and quickly dismissed than those of men. Our governments are dominated by men. Our airwaves are dominated by men. Our boardrooms are dominated by men.

We may not be doing this intentionally, but systemic oppression persists and it is the precipitate of the overt and direct oppression referenced in Hymn 588.

And, of course, the voices of women are not the only ones that are easily dismissed. People of colour, people new to our country or our congregation, people from marginalized communities or who lack social or economic clout have their voices suppressed. Even children and youth can be victims of such silencing. (As a middle-aged white cis male whose family has been at this church for generations, I suffer none of this silencing.)

So that static you hear, may not be noise, it may very well be a message intended for our ears. We have to to listen, discern and demonstrate humility as we learn from others.

At the end of that postlude, Tom finished the melody, the harmonies, the themes and variations...everything ended, except for that one note, the block of wood still keeping it alive. It had been lost in all the beauty and bluster of the organ. It just sat there, above everything else, waiting, persisting. Tom sat there for a moment, not playing, giving that lone note just enough space to be heard and to resonate.

Jonathan M.

 

Fourth Sunday in Lent

I liked what Karen had to say this morning about the importance of kinship to God. Knowing that we are all connected, that we all belong to each other. It's a good thing for us to keep in mind, I think.

I am the eldest child in my family; I have two younger brothers. They certainly had their moments when we were growing up; I have distinct memories them ganging up on the big sister, going out of their way to drive me crazy. And yes, I probably drove them crazy too. And yet... we always got over ourselves eventually, always got back to a place where we could have fun together. There can be a lot of love and forgiveness in families.

Maybe because I'm the eldest, I totally understand where the prodigal son's older brother is coming from. It is easy for me to take on those attitudes in certain situations - to ask about justice and fairness, to ask, as Karen quoted from a Calvin and Hobbes comic a few weeks ago, why life is never unfair in my favour. When I have enough self-awareness to realize that's what I'm doing, I try to remind myself that, more often than not, I am the younger brother - that I receive more love and forgiveness than I really deserve - and that I need to be willing to extend that to others.

But I think Karen's message today adds something to that. Even when we're having "older brother" moments, there is more than enough love and goodness for all of us. And this is where the notion of kinship comes into it, for me. I certainly have a lot of patience and time for my crazy brothers - they're my family and I love them to bits. So how would my actions and attitudes change if I saw myself as being connected with all those around me? If I approached situations knowing that we all belong to each other, that there is no one who doesn't belong? How much more so would that foster love, justice and equality in my community?

Laura S.

Third Sunday in Lent

Lent is my favourite season in the church calendar. It feels more introspective and contemplative than its sibling celebration, Advent. I also suspect that deep down I feel like things of value should be worked for, sacrificed for. The 40-odd days of giving something up in order to concentrate on spiritual growth fits my nature.

But this morning, we talked about God's lavish, extravagant, no-holds-barred love as Karen preached about the prodigal father. (Here's a fun fact: prodigal actually means wastefully extravagant - not repentant like I'd thought.)

Jesus tells this story to the Pharisees and starts by asking them what they think about a shepherd who leaves his 99 sheep to go look for the one who is lost. How happy is he? Then he ups the ante by asking, what about the celebration of a woman with 10 silver coins who stops what she's doing to find one that has gone missing? Finally, something even more rare and even more valuable - what about a missing son?

The father's love over a missing son is lavish, over-the-top. Not words often associated with Lent in my thinking. So too is God's love for us wastefully extravagant! It is undeserved and unmeasured and unending.

We read these words of Jesus from the Message last night at our potluck, Matthew 11:30.

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me - watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.

A reminder that even during contemplative Lent, we have much to celebrate. There is extravagant joy in our Lenten journey.

Maureen R.

First Sunday in Lent

Photo: Diana B.

Photo: Diana B.

C.S. Lewis cautions us on two fronts when it comes to dealing with evil; one is to not pay it any attention; the other is to pay too much attention. It becomes our job to figure out that fine balance. What a better time to think about that balance than on the First Sunday in Lent, as the church turns purple, and begins preparing itself for Easter.

Over the next 40 days and 40 nights many of us will deny ourselves vices and luxuries and will take up a spiritual discipline, in essence we are embarking on a journey of repentance and reorientation towards God. It's fitting that as we begin this journey together that we allow ourselves to be shaped by the story of Jesus, fresh from the waters of the River Jordan, driven by the Spirit into the wilderness where he was  tempted by the devil. The devil preyed on Jesus' strengths, and tried to sow the seeds of doubt and distrust, as Dr. Dimock unpacked, only Jesus trusted his Father more than any ploy or plot that the tempter could devise.

Dr. Dimock made a point about evil that I think is often over looked- the Tempter preys on our strengths, not just our weaknesses. The devil tries to break our trust in God, and convince us to use our gifts and talents for our own gain, and not to further the Kingdom of God. This happened when the devil tried to convince Jesus to turn the stones into bread it also happens when a friend uses the confidence and influence they hold to manipulate and control their other friends. I think we've all been there, using gifts that we have, that we usually use for good, for something we aren't too proud of- we've all been tempted. 

To get back to C.S. Lewis, it is our job to figure out that balance between thinking too much about evil, and not thinking about it enough, so as we start the journey of Lent together, my question to you is this: What are the devils that tempt you in your life; and How, with God as your helper will you fight? I know these are heavy questions, but the fortunate thing is, as we journey to the Cross, we are reminded by the Good News; there this nothing that we can do or leave undone, say or leave unsaid that will separate God's love and forgiveness from us. 

Lenten Blessings, 

Alex F.  

Whatsoever you do unto me...

This morning our guest preacher reminded us that the corollary is also part of scripture. At St. Andrew's, we are recognized for significant contributions to the many support and relief projects undertaken by Presbyterian World Service and Development. So collectively and as individuals we strive to provide succour to the hungry, thirsty, naked, sick and imprisoned.

But again this weekend, we are concerned for thousands from Aleppo who are searching for safety.  Until they can be provided with practical, material assistance, prayer is all I feel able to offer.  Prayer not only for those suddenly finding themselves to be refugees, but also for those oppressing.  And so another dilemma. How and what to pray when praying for oppressors.
 Perhaps by beginning with words from our opening hymn--Come sing, o church, in joy and ending with Celebrate the journey now and praise the Lord.

Billie S.

Jumping in

It is often difficult to sustain a lot of energy through to the end of January, but I found today's service energetic and energizing.  The children's choir sang well, and it is always a treat to hear their young voices singing.  I particularly enjoyed the theatrical reading of the exchange between Jesus and Peter, with the contemporary language applied to the notion of making "fishers of men".  The children's story Christine offered was lovely as well.  I too love the game where little children jump into the water and are caught by their parents - thinking about that made me think of summer afternoons when our children were very small, and the joy we used to all find in what we called "crazy jumping", a major past-time of our family's.  It is a charming and comforting analogy to think of the love of God as something as certain and present as a parent waiting to catch a child at a pool, and this is an image I will take with me into the week, and into February...

Rebecca B.