Weekly Reflections

Sunday!  One of the biggest and best celebrations of the year, second only to Easter in my mind. I hope that many of you will be with us in person as well as online as we celebrate the coming and the presence of the Spirit! Wear fiery colors on Sunday. And get ready for a few surprises—there are ALWAYS surprises when the Spirit’s involved!

And so we come to the last Sunday of Easter. After today, no more of those fun (annoying?) Easter jokes. A change in the color of the church. Different music. And in a couple of weeks, a different Eucharistic prayer. It’s part of the way that the church processes time. We are reminded that while we watch the clock and turn the calendar pages in the ordinary world, the world of faith keeps to a different timetable. 

One of the things that gives us courage is the knowledge that Jesus is with us. And Jesus is the one who is able to calm the storms of life. You recall how frightened the disciples got when they were sailing in the midst of the storm and Jesus spoke to the elements saying, “Peace, be still.” The disciples asked, “Who is this that even the wind and sea obey him?” 

Psalm 148 is one of the most glorious and poetic of the Psalms of Praise.  Instead of focusing on individual things for which we praise God, it is giving the voice of praise to all sorts of beings. And not just what we like to call “living creatures”. The sun, moon, stars, oceans, mountains and, of course my favorite sea monsters, give praise to God. I wonder how God feels about us wantonly destroying Creation, which we ourselves are also part of?

This week’s lectionary readings are full of references to sheep and lambs. Those of you who know me well or have heard me preach before on this Sunday, typically called Good Shepherd Sunday, know that I have an attitude about sheep, having grown up in farm country. And that attitude is not entirely favorable. Maybe because the sheep I grew up with were also pastured with goats and learned lots of mischief from them. Can you guess where I’m going with this?

There are so many wonderful things about the season of Easter. Especially for me, the excuses to say and write ALLELUJAH at every turning! One of the things I really treasure, though, is that from Easter Day through and including the Sunday of Pentecost, we read from the Acts of the Apostles. To read brief sections of Acts here and there over three years means that we don’t get a real understanding of what was happening.  So I encourage you to take a few hours and read the Acts of the Apostles straight through.

So we have now arrived at the threshold of Holy Week. In ancient Celtic mythology, it was believed that the “in-between” times and “in-between” places were the most powerful. So there are reports of things being done “neither at day nor at night” and “neither on land nor on sea”. That’s very much what Palm Sunday is like! We start out almost feeling like we’ve left the somberness of Lent behind. But it’s not long until we come to the reading of the great Passion Gospel. Heaviness descends. Wait. What is happening?

This is the last Sunday before we enter into the solemnities of Holy Week. The Gospel gives us a hint of things to come. Expanding on that hint, I’m attaching a “Field Guide to Holy Week”, which lists the services and gives some ideas of what to expect. Please take a look at put as many of these services on your calendar as possible. Easter is ever so much more meaningful when we accompany Jesus through the last days of his life, rather than hop-scotching from Palm Sunday to Easter.

Welcome to the Fourth Sunday of Lent—traditionally called Laetare Sunday after the ancient Latin opening hymn that began Laetare Ierusalem, “Rejoice, O Jerusalem”. This Sunday is also called Refreshment Sunday, when some of the fasting and solemnity of Lent are relaxed a bit. We have a somewhat unusual something for you on Sunday, and hope you’ll be joining us at the service, with a smile 🙂

Like many of us, I have days when I feel like I hate the world I’m living in. I hate hearing the news about how many buildings were bombed in Ukraine; how many people were murdered in random shootings; how many children go to bed hungry each night. I get angry when I hear about people of color being turned away by realtors, or billionaires paying no income tax while a poor family’s home goes to a sheriff’s sale because they have to make a choice between eating and paying their taxes. My blood pressure goes up when I spend two hours fighting with an insurance company’s labyrinthine phone and messaging system, and then I wonder how people who are really ill and alone can manage it. How could any person of good faith fail to be saddened, frustrated, and incensed by the state of the world?