seeing Easter through fresh eyes

The Women at the Sepulchre, Benjamin West, Brooklyn Museum
Lord,
as if the shock of Good Friday wasn’t enough for your closest followers…
We feel for those faithful women who went to visit you
just after sunrise on that Sunday morning,
and fled, trembling and bewildered and afraid.
You were not there.
Forgive us when we sanitise your death.
And forgive us, too, if we belittle your resurrection!
Please help us to see this most incredible of moments,
this greatest twist of any plot,
through fresh eyes,
on this bewildering, yet most joyful of mornings.
Help us to see it through the tear-filled eyes of those women.
Help us to see it through the disbelieving eyes of the men,
some of whom came running.
And help us to glimpse it through your own eyes,
which must have blinked into the early morning sunlight
of that first Easter Day,
from out of complete, and utter, darkness,
and refocused,
and creased, with a smile.
You are risen indeed.
as if the shock of Good Friday wasn’t enough for your closest followers…
We feel for those faithful women who went to visit you
just after sunrise on that Sunday morning,
and fled, trembling and bewildered and afraid.
You were not there.
Forgive us when we sanitise your death.
And forgive us, too, if we belittle your resurrection!
Please help us to see this most incredible of moments,
this greatest twist of any plot,
through fresh eyes,
on this bewildering, yet most joyful of mornings.
Help us to see it through the tear-filled eyes of those women.
Help us to see it through the disbelieving eyes of the men,
some of whom came running.
And help us to glimpse it through your own eyes,
which must have blinked into the early morning sunlight
of that first Easter Day,
from out of complete, and utter, darkness,
and refocused,
and creased, with a smile.
You are risen indeed.
Brian Draper, Christian writer in the UK
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On the first day of the week, very early in the morning,
the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb.
They found the stone rolled away from the tomb,
but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.
While they were wondering about this,
suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them.
In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground,
but the men said to them,
“Why do you look for the living among the dead?
He is not here; he has risen!
Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee:
‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners,
be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ”
Then they remembered his words.
Prayer for Holy Saturday

Lamentation of Christ, Andrea Mantegna, via Wikimedia Commons
Today a tomb holds him who holds the creation in the hollow of his hand;
a stone covers him who covered the heavens with glory.
Life sleeps and hell trembles, and Adam is set free from his bonds.
Glory to your dispensation, whereby you have accomplished all things,
granting us an eternal Sabbath, your most holy Resurrection from the dead.
What is this sight that we behold? What is this present rest?
What is this sight that we behold? What is this present rest?
The King of the ages, having through his passion fulfilled the plan of salvation,
keeps Sabbath in the tomb, granting us a new Sabbath.
Unto him let us cry aloud: Arise, O Lord, judge the earth,
for measureless is your great mercy and you reign forever.
Come, let us see our Life lying in the tomb,
for measureless is your great mercy and you reign forever.
Come, let us see our Life lying in the tomb,
that he may give life to those that in their tombs lie dead.
Come, let us look today on the Son of Judah as he sleeps,
and with the prophet let us cry aloud to him:
You have lain down, you have slept as a lion;
who shall awaken you, O King?
But of your own free will you rise up,
who willingly gives yourself for us.
O Lord, glory to thee
Mattins, Holy Saturday, Orthodox
The Oxford Book of Prayer slightly modernized
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The women who had come with Jesus from Galilee followed Joseph
and saw the tomb and how his body was laid in it.
Then they went home and prepared spices and perfumes.
But they rested on the Sabbath in obedience to the commandment.
Prayer on Good Friday

photo by Murilo Soares via pexels
Prayer on Good Friday.
Which isn’t good at all.
One of the great misnomers of all time.
It’s bleak, haunted, immensely sad.
It rivets and ravages me every year
as I sit hidden behind a post-beam
in the balcony of the chapel,
where no one can see me weeping
at the poor broken Yeshua,
betrayed by his best friends,
beaten by sneering cops,
blood dripping into His eyes,
grilled by a police chief who couldn’t care less
about justice and mercy and only wants to evade blame
for a matter he considers minor at best.
Yet it wasn’t minor at all,
and somehow it turns on that harrowing day long ago.
A mysterious young man from a country village,
causing an epic political and civil ruckus in the city.
A murderous mob, angry religious Brahmins, potential colonial unrest
that will not look good at headquarters.
Gnomic answers by the calm young man when interrogated.
Poor Peter bitterly berating himself for his cowardice,
and which one of us would have done better?
The apostles frightened, the sound of hammers
nailing the young man to a cross,
the lowering darkness,
the murmurs of fear through the city as the sun is blotted out.
Veronica’s veil and Simon’s shoulders, Simon the African,
did compassion surge and make him step forth,
or was he shoved into legend by a soldier?
The gaunt young man sagging toward death;
His quiet blessing of a thief;
His last words to his mother;
one last desperate cry;
He thirsts, He prays, He dies.
And in the chapel not another word, not another sound;
and soon we exit silently, and go our ways,
for once without the tang of Euchaist on our tongues,
for once without a cheerful chaff for friends and handshakes all round;
and no matter how bright the rest of the day,
how brilliant the late afternoon,
how redolent the new flowers,
how wild the sunset over the river
you shiver a little; not just for Him, but for all of us,
His children, face to face with despair.
And so silently home to pray for light emerging miraculously
where it seemed all dark.
And so: amen.
Brian Doyle, 1956 – 2017, Catholic author from Oregon
A Book of Uncommon Prayer
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A Book of Uncommon Prayer
____________________________
It was now about noon,
and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon,
for the sun stopped shining.
And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.
Jesus called out with a loud voice,
“Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.”
When he had said this, he breathed his last.
What was it like when Mary anointed your feet?
image, GFreihalter, CC BY-SA 3.0 via Wikimedia Commons
Jesus, what was it like when Mary anointed your feet?
Was there daylight or was the room lit with candles?
Did she anoint your right foot first?
Was there daylight or was the room lit with candles?
Did she anoint your right foot first?
Was the spikenard warm?
How long did it take to pour out the entire bottle?
What did it feel like to have her hair wiping your feet?
Just how fragrant did the room become?
What was Mary feeling? Immense gratitude, unbridled love, melancholy?
Did she have any idea that she was preparing your body for burial?
What was the tone of Judas and the disciples who objected?
Were any of them really thinking of the poor?
Would I have joined them in their disdain?
How sharp or gentle were your words of correction?
Did they have any idea that you would be washing their feet soon?
How did Mary receive your words defending her?
Did she smile, or did her eyes become wet?
How did she feel when you shared that you would not be with them much longer?
What was it like to be with you that evening, Jesus?
Be close to me as I follow you through Holy Week.
What did it feel like to have her hair wiping your feet?
Just how fragrant did the room become?
What was Mary feeling? Immense gratitude, unbridled love, melancholy?
Did she have any idea that she was preparing your body for burial?
What was the tone of Judas and the disciples who objected?
Were any of them really thinking of the poor?
Would I have joined them in their disdain?
How sharp or gentle were your words of correction?
Did they have any idea that you would be washing their feet soon?
How did Mary receive your words defending her?
Did she smile, or did her eyes become wet?
How did she feel when you shared that you would not be with them much longer?
What was it like to be with you that evening, Jesus?
Be close to me as I follow you through Holy Week.
EM
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Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany,
where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead.
Here a dinner was given in Jesus’ honor.
Martha served, while Lazarus was among those reclining at the table with him.
Then Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume;
she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair.
And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.
But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected,
But one of his disciples, Judas Iscariot, who was later to betray him, objected,
“Why wasn’t this perfume sold and the money given to the poor?
It was worth a year’s wages.”
He did not say this because he cared about the poor
but because he was a thief; as keeper of the money bag,
he used to help himself to what was put into it.
“Leave her alone,” Jesus replied.
“Leave her alone,” Jesus replied.
“It was intended that she should save this perfume for the day of my burial.
You will always have the poor among you, but you will not always have me.”
things I know that I should not wish for
image by loswl via Flickr CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
Father, I know that I should not wish for my neighbor’s (nicer) house,
or my neighbor’s (more beautiful/ handsome) spouse.
I must not think to myself that I should have anything belonging to someone else –
not ever the smallest thing. Not even their dog.
In the other nine commandments you have forbidden
all injuries and evil practices against my neighbors.
Now you charge me to beware of thinking any evil thoughts against them.
And for this reason I have great reason to praise you.
You care about my home and everything I own, even my dog,
and you command everyone else never to wish they had all my things,
instead of me.
The apostle said we should be
“casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you.”
It is true, and I find it true.
In this way you care for us, and so you would have us care for one another.
But gracious Lord, I must confess that I have forgotten
and have broken this commandment, and I still do every day.
I am wishing and coveting every minute of every hour.
I could have been content,
but I have always thought my neighbor had too much, and I too little.
And the dregs of these things, Lord, are not quite out of my heart.
I deserve your severe justice.
But keep in mind the frailty of my flesh,
the corruptions of my nature, and the many temptations.
Remember how I am able to do nothing of myself –
and how I would come to nothing if left to myself.
Be merciful and pardon me in this way also, for the sake of your son.
Amen.
John Bradford, 1510-1555, English reformer and martyr
Grace from Heaven Prayers from the Reformation, sightly modified
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You shall not covet your neighbor’s house;
you shall not covet your neighbor’s wife,
or his male servant, or his female servant,
or his ox, or his donkey, or anything that is your neighbor’s.
prayer to live in happiness and peace

image by Agnes Leung via Flickr, CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
O God, our Father,
we know that the issues of life and death are in your hands,
and we know that you are loving us with an everlasting love.
If it is your will, grant to us to live in happiness and in peace.
In all our undertakings,
Grant us prosperity and good success.
In all our friendships,
Grant us to find our friends faithful and true.
In all our bodily things,
Make us fit and healthy,
Able for the work of the day.
In all the things of the mind,
Make us calm and serene,
Free from anxiety and worry.
In material things,
Save us from poverty and from want.
In spiritual things,
Save us from doubt and from distrust.
Grant us
In our work satisfaction;
In our study true wisdom;
In our pleasure gladness;
In our love loyalty.
And if misfortune does come to us,
grant that any trial may only bring us closer to one another and closer to you;
and grant that nothing may shake our certainty that you work all things together for good,
and that a Father’s hand will never cause his child a needless tear.
Hear this our prayer, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
William Barclay, 1907-1978, minister in the Church of Scotland
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Blessed is the man who trusts in the Lord,
whose trust is the Lord.
He is like a tree planted by water,
that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought,
for it does not cease to bear fruit.
whose trust is the Lord.
He is like a tree planted by water,
that sends out its roots by the stream,
and does not fear when heat comes,
for its leaves remain green,
and is not anxious in the year of drought,
for it does not cease to bear fruit.
enlighten us to see the beam

Parable of the Mote and the Beam, Domenico Fetti, via Wikimedia Commons
Lord, enlighten us to see the beam that is in our own eye,
and blind us to the mote that is in our brother’s.
Let us feel our offences with our hands,
make them great and bright before us like the sun,
make us eat them and drink them for our diet.
Blind us to the offences of our beloved,
cleanse them from our memories,
take them out of our mouths forever.
Help us at the same time with the grace of courage,
that none of us be cast down when we sit lamenting
amid the ruins of our happiness or our integrity:
Touch us with fire from the altar,
that we may be up and doing to rebuild our city.
Robert Louis Stevenson, 1850-1894, Scottish Novelist, published by his wife
The HarperCollins Book of Prayers
Matthew 7:3-4
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye,
and blind us to the mote that is in our brother’s.
Let us feel our offences with our hands,
make them great and bright before us like the sun,
make us eat them and drink them for our diet.
Blind us to the offences of our beloved,
cleanse them from our memories,
take them out of our mouths forever.
Help us at the same time with the grace of courage,
that none of us be cast down when we sit lamenting
amid the ruins of our happiness or our integrity:
Touch us with fire from the altar,
that we may be up and doing to rebuild our city.
Robert Louis Stevenson, 1850-1894, Scottish Novelist, published by his wife
The HarperCollins Book of Prayers
Matthew 7:3-4
Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye,
but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?
Or how can you say to your brother,
‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’
when there is the log in your own eye?
wash me with your tears

Jesus Wept by Daniel Bonnell
Lord, we show you our wounds so that you may heal us.
And even if we do not, you know,
and you wait to hear our voice.
Do away our scars by tears,
like the woman in the gospel who washed your feet with hers.
You know how to help the weak,
when there is no one who can prepare the feast,
or bring the ointment,
or carry along a spring of living water.
You come yourself to the grave.
So come to this grave of mine, Lord Jesus,
that you would wash me with your tears.
With my dry eyes I have no such tears
as to be able to wash away my offenses.
With your tears I will be saved, if I am worthy of your tears.
With them you will call me out of the tomb of this body and say,
“Come forth.”
Then my thoughts will not be kept pent up
in the narrow limits of this body,
but may go forth to you, and move to the light,
that I may think no more on the works of darkness,
but on the works of light.
Ambrose of Milan, c.339-397, Bishop of Milan
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When Jesus saw her weeping,
and the Jews who had come along with her also weeping,
he was deeply moved in spirit and troubled.
“Where have you laid him?” he asked.
“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.
Jesus wept.
“Come and see, Lord,” they replied.
Jesus wept.
Then the Jews said, “See how he loved him!”
When he had said this, Jesus called in a loud voice,
“Lazarus, come out!”
The dead man came out,
his hands and feet wrapped with strips of linen,
and a cloth around his face.
Jesus said to them,
Jesus said to them,
“Take off the grave clothes and let him go.”
Give us the grace to admit . . .

Lord Jesus, we are silly sheep who have dared to stand before you
and try to bribe you with our preposterous portfolios.
Suddenly we have come to our senses.
We are sorry and ask you to forgive us.
Give us the grace to admit we are ragamuffins,
to embrace our brokenness,
to celebrate your mercy
when we are at our weakest,
to rely on your mercy no matter what we may do.
Dear Jesus, gift us to stop grandstanding and trying to get attention,
to do the truth quietly without display,
to let the dishonesties in our lives fade away,
to accept our limitations,
to cling to the gospel of grace,
and to delight in your love.
Brennan Manning, 1934-2013, American author, laicized priest, and speaker
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So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God.
There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.
