Why have you forsaken me?

Crucifixion, by Graham Sutherland, London 1963
 
Lord,
you were not only tempted for forty days down by the Jordan
but constantly all through your ministry.
 
Not to obvious blatant sins
but to the subtler deflections from the Father’s will;
to cunning compromise which would defeat the Father’s purpose.
 
As when the presence of the seeking Greeks
suggested the possibility of a wider mission
in which you might have been listened to and welcomed,
without the necessity of the cross.
 
As when in the Garden of Olives across the valley,
you wrestled with the doubt that death could be the Father’s will.
 
Or when, in the presence of Pilate
you might have pleaded your case with your accusers;
or in those fiercest moments of pain,
acquiesced to the mocking cry of the crowd to
    ‘Come down from the cross and we will believe,’
 
Until one temptation remained –
the final test, the last claim of love,
the fiercest attack of evil –
more subtle and shattering than the rest,
when, cloaked in a blanket of darkness
came the whispering doubt:
    What if God too has forsaken you?
 
And at last, the battle done, the last temptation met,
faith complete, the task finished, evil defeated,
love triumphant, you said:
    ‘Father into your hands I commend my spirit –
    the rest lies with you, Father, dear Father.’
 
And then it was that by the cross with its limp body
there must surely have sounded the voice from heaven
    once more:
    ‘This is my beloved Son.’
    Son in call,
    Son in obedience,
    Son in love
    Son in death and in triumphant life.
 
George Appleton, 1902 – 1993, Anglican Bishop in England and Jerusalem
The Oxford Book of Prayer

_____________________
 
Luke 23:44-46 
 
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.


_____________________________

Questions

How can you see the crucifixion of Jesus as his ultimate triumph?

overturning the tables

Christ Driving the Money Changers out of the Temple, Valentin de Boulogne, via Wikimedia Commons
 
Truth be told, Jesus,
There are lots of tables that need overturning
   in our lives;
Beneath the veneer of respectability
   the tidy rows and neat regulations
      hide dark addictions and angry judgments
         hungry greeds and heartless rejections

We know the pain—and so do those around us—
   of keeping up the facade;
What a relief it would be to have it all
   upset, smashed, scattered, destroyed

So, perhaps, Jesus, today you could pay us a visit
   and help us to radically rearrange
      the furniture of our lives

Amen.
John van de Laar, South African Methodist worship minster
www.sacredise.com
_________________________

Mark 11:15-17

And they came to Jerusalem. 
And he entered the temple and began to drive out those 
    who sold and those who bought in the temple, 
    and he overturned the tables of the money-changers 
    and the seats of those who sold pigeons. 
And he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. 
And he was teaching them and saying to them,
  “Is it not written, 
     ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations’?
      But you have made it a den of robbers.”

_________________________

Question

What area of your life needs Jesus to do some radical rearranging?

Do you weep over my city?

He wept over it by Enrique Simonet via Wikimedia Commons
 
This is my city, Lord:
I’ve flown over it,
driven around it,
walked through it,
and I love it.
Its concrete chasms, its quiet parks,
its massive buildings and its tiny houses,
its suburbs rich and poor.
But most of all, Lord, its people…
My city, Lord. Your city.
Remember, Lord, there was one city
over which you stood and wept.
Do you weep over this city?
With its hunger, its greed, its cruelty?
Its foolishness and heartbreak?
Lord, I believe you do.
 
prayer used over Belfast, Northern Ireland
A Procession of Prayers, edited by John Carden
_____________________________
 
Luke 19:41-42 
 
And when he drew near and saw the city, he wept over it, saying,
“Would that you, even you, had known on this day
    the things that make for peace!
But now they are hidden from your eyes.”

_____________________________

Question

How can you join with God and others 
    in praying for your neighborhood, your city, your country?

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
____________________________
 
 
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 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.
 
EM
_________________
 
 
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, 
    “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. 
“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.”

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waiting prayer for Holy Saturday

Holy Saturday by Roxolana Luczakowsky via Facebook
 
 
This is the hardest time to pray:
after the drama and catastrophe,
before the angels and the big reveal.
The passion, the agony, the desperate grief
have given way to numbness
and absence
in this time in between.

God seems to be offstage,
preparing for the final scene,
taking care of ancient souls in other worlds
or clothing the hidden, broken body
in resurrection glory.

So let our prayer this day be plain
and to the point:

May God be with us in the waiting,
and may we wait with hope,
today
and every time in between.

Amen.

 
Kerry Greenhill, Methodist Deacon and Minister
 
____________________________
 
 
As evening approached, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, 
    who had himself become a disciple of Jesus. 
Going to Pilate, he asked for Jesus’ body, and Pilate ordered that it be given to him.
Joseph took the body, wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, 
    and placed it in his own new tomb that he had cut out of the rock. 
He rolled a big stone in front of the entrance to the tomb and went away. 
Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were sitting there opposite the tomb.

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Help me to live your Gospel

Woe unto You, Scribes and Pharisees, James Tissot, Brooklyn Museum
 
 
Lord, it is too late for you to be quiet,
    you have spoken too much;
    you have fought too much;
You were not sensible, you know, 
    you exaggerated, it was bound to happen.
You called the better people a breed of vipers;
You told them that their hearts were black sepulchers
    with fine exteriors;
You kissed the decaying lepers;
You spoke fearlessly with unacceptable strangers;
You ate with notorious sinners,
    and you said that the street-walkers would be the first in Paradise;
You got on well with the poor, the tramps, the crippled;
You belittled the religious regulations;
Your interpretations of the Law reduced it to one little commandment: 
    to love.
Now they are avenging themselves.
They have taken steps against you;
    they have approached the authorities and action wlll follow.
 
Lord, I know that if I try to live a little like you,
     I shall be condemned.
I am afraid.
They are already singling me out.
Some smile at me, others laugh, some are shocked, 
    and several of my friends are about to drop me.
I am afraid to stop,
I am afraid to listen to men’s wisdom.
It whispers: you must go forward little by little,
    everything can’t be taken literally,
    it’s better to come to terms with the adversary . . .
And yet, Lord, I know that you are right.
Help me to fight,
Help me to speak,
Help me to live your Gospel,
To the end,
To the folly of the Cross.
 
Michel Quoist,1918 – 1997, French Catholic priest and writer
Prayers of Life

_________________________
 
 
Jesus replied, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. 
Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, 
    it remains only a single seed. 
    But if it dies, it produces many seeds. 
Anyone who loves their life will lose it, 
    while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life. 
Whoever serves me must follow me; and where I am, my servant also will be. 
My Father will honor the one who serves me.”
 

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the new commandment

Jesus washing Peter’s feet by Sieger Koder / Jim Forest Flickr / CC BY-NC-ND 2.0
 
Jesus, you gave us the new command to love each other 
    just as you loved your disciples.
We are eager to imitate you in loving our brothers and sisters, but like Peter,
    our efforts are often more words and good intentions 
        than action and sacrifice..
We want to offer ourselves fully in friendship
    but when the relationship becomes costly we disengage.
We want to reach out to those different from ourselves
    but tend to stay within our safe routines.
And when relationships lead to hurt or betrayal 
    we withdraw to protect ourselves
    and fail to keep your commandment.
You know this about us.
You know that we are weak and made of dust.
 
Oh, pour out an extra measure of faith upon us!
Strengthen us with the supernatural ability to love just as you loved.
Enable us to present ourselves as living sacrifices in our relationships.
 
But more than that, bless our flawed, timid expressions
    and communicate them through your Holy Spirit,
    so that those who we begin to love, 
    know that, in fact, they are loved 
    completely
    by you
just as you loved your disciples, and us, unto the end.
 
EM
______________________
 
 
It was just before the Passover Festival. 
Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. 
Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end.
 
A new command I give you: Love one another. 
As I have loved you, so you must love one another.
 

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