Like as the hart desireth the waterbrooks, so longeth my soul after thee, O God.
My soul is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God.
When shall I come to appear before the presence of God?
My tears have been my meat day and night, while they daily say unto me:
“Where is now thy God?
by Jeremy Langill
When I was asked to pick a couple of dates to contribute to this Lenten Meditation series, I intentionally chose one at the very beginning of Lent and one as close to Easter as possible. If you recall from my post way back when Lent began, I was really struck by how deeply disconnected I felt from the Ash Wednesday service — its dismal retelling of that old and well-worn narrative (you know, the one about a wrathful God just waiting, almost anxiously it seems, to cast judgment upon me for my many sins and inequities) ended up putting me in a fairly ambivalent mood towards the whole Lenten season. I couldn’t help but wonder what Easter would look like this year for me.
by Anne Breck Peterson
Tenebrae is the ancient service of shadows, poised between Good Friday’s crucifixion and the first service of Easter on Easter Eve. In this service we hang suspended in an in-between-time—between paralyzing disaster and we know not what. Although we know that the story ends well, it is important to linger in this bleak place to honor our own journey of failures, losses and periods of despair.
by Susan Russell
Episcopal Relief and Development, our great global partners in ministry, publish a book of Lenten Meditations every year and I was honored to be asked to contribute one for this year’s edition. Sharing it here today as we prepare to gather as God’s beloved on this Maundy Thursday — the feast of the new commandment of love for the whole human family.
by Janine Schenone
I know it sounds crazy to approach “The Cross” with joy, and to be honest, it has taken me a long, long time as a Christian to make any sense of crucifixion, Good Friday, or the cross as a central event and symbol of Christianity. Why dwell on suffering? Why relive the ugliest moments of humanity?
by Jenny Tisi
I woke up and did my usual routine. I caught up on Facebook before my dogs woke me up and saw an article that Kraft Macaroni and Cheese was being recalled. When I clicked on it, I began reading the comments, as I always find those more informative than the actual post. In it, I read comments from single moms, who were thankful for Kraft, for creating a product that was cheap enough for them to feed their children. Many others responded in the same way and spoke about how they wished they could afford to eat healthier, but healthier food comes with a bigger cost.
by Susan Russell
The gospel story appointed for this Monday in Holy Week is the retelling of Mary’s extravagant outpouring of precious perfume as a gift to Jesus — a gift that earned her a tongue lashing from Judas.
It is a story not only told in this Gospel according to John. In Mark it says, “The disciples were infuriated with her.” Matthew says, “They murmured against her.” But what all the tellings of the story have in common is that the good deed – the gift she offered – was judged and rejected by those surrounding Jesus who thought she should have made a different choice.
And then Jesus intervened.
by Susan Russell
Malcolm Boyd was friend and colleague, priest and poet, preacher and activist. It is no exaggeration to say that his Are You Running With Me, Jesus? — published in 1965 — fed the hunger of a generation of people who had given up on the church or anyone connected with it having anything relevant to say.
by Anne Peterson
Having never known quite what to do with the crucifixion, I have chosen to focus more on what Jesus did during his lifetime than on his death and resurrection—and to ponder what the implications for me might be when he urged the disciples to go forth and do likewise in ministry.
by Christina Honchell
“There are many things that can only be seen through eyes that have cried.”
“This is what we are about: We plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.”
Thirty-five years ago today, Archbishop Oscar Romero finished the sermon that he was preaching for the funeral of a friend’s mother and stepped behind the altar to celebrate the Eucharist. A member of a right-wing death squad stepped into the long aisle of the chapel, raised his rifle and shot the archbishop through the heart, then disappeared into the sunshine with his driver and accomplice.
by Jon Dephouse
This past February I reached the two year point since I finished a long treatment process for a rare cancer called Rhabdomyosarcoma. As a “survivor” I get to reflect publicly on my story from time to time. On Saturday I spoke on a panel with 3 other survivors as part of an AYA symposium, (Adolescents and Young Adults with Cancer) at USC. AYA represents the age range of 15 -32, and sometimes to age 39. I was 32 when I was diagnosed.