Good and Eternal

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
April 27, 2020
Psalm 36 & 39; Col. 1:1-14; Matt. 3:7-12

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Many of you know that I have a hard time with these passages on Judgment. And I feel like saying, “God, life is hard enough right now. I don’t need these kinds of passages. There are days when producing any fruit - whether it be the laundry, the groceries, the schoolwork or my own work - is hard enough. Now you are telling me it has to be “good” fruit or else? Nope. Can’t take it.”

That is always my first instinct. To read this passage as some kind of impossible standard God is holding up for us to attain. Somehow we have to be perfect or the consequences will be dire. Then I take a deep breath, and I look again. And I hear the voices of wise and wonderful people in my life. I hear them gently asking me to look at the text again and to wonder whether the image of a wrathful, vengeful God holding me to an impossibly high standard is really what this text is saying or does it fit with the God I know and love.

Um, no, it doesn’t. It doesn’t fit with what I know of God. And I also think about the resources I have valued when I have grappled with these texts previously. One of my favorite resources that really helped to transform my thinking about these judgment texts is a collection of essays written by Eugene Kennedy in the wake of 9/11. Kennedy writes of those who died on 9-11 (and I think this could apply equally to many large scale and individual losses in our lives and our world): “Their voices, taken from phone calls and emails and the recollections of friends, blend now into one message, one voice like a canyon echo coming back to us out of the ruins: ‘I love you,’ said in a thousand ways is the true harvest of these good people’s lives. The good grain so overflowed that it covered over the patches of human stubble in their lives . . . They defined themselves and what life and faith are all about in the commitment to the relationships in their lives.” When we look at all those people from all sorts of walks a life - a real cross section of humanity - who perished on 9/11 or in any other context, we should see the good - the overwhelming good in them, for as Kennedy goes on to say, that is what ultimately matters to God. Kennedy writes, “What is good and bad in us grows together. On judgment day, God harvests only what is good in us, for that is what is eternal, and ignores the weeds that belong to time.”

Right. There is where our focus should be. On what is good and eternal. It is so easy in these times (or any time when we feel stretched thin or overwhelmed or fearful) for those voices to be dominant in our minds and hearts. It is so easy to focus on what is wrong, on what is missing, on what is lost. But as wise people know, that is not a life-giving place to be. Endlessly focusing on what is missing will leave us disheartened, and we will miss out on the abundance that is right in front of us.

Of course, in these times we are aware of what is missing. We cannot be with our friends. We cannot gather as the faithful people of God in person. We cannot just hop in our car or on the subway and go about what used to be a regular routine. Those are the losses of our daily lives. We are also grappling with the more significant grief of losing people we know or to whom we are connected in some way. The losses of this pandemic are not merely numbers on a screen. They have human faces and lives that tell stories just like those who died on 9/11. The losses are significant and real in these days.

And while we can and must acknowledge the magnitude of our grief, we cannot live in that place. We cannot stay there. We must not allow our vision to be solely focused on loss. There are many, many blessings in our lives for which we can be grateful even in this time. Technology to stay connected. Not just having jobs, but having the opportunity to do inspiring and meaningful work. The gifts of collegiality and friendship. As our General Thanksgiving says, “the loving care which surrounds us on every side.” Health, enough to eat, the beauty of the natural world. The list goes on and on.

Mystic and theologian Meister Eckhart is known for saying that if our only prayer is “Thank you” that will be enough. Indeed. In the midst of all the challenges we are facing, in the midst of all the fear and uncertainty, may we keep finding the words and the ways to express our gratitude. May our eyes and hearts continue to be open to see the tremendous beauty of our world and the resiliency of the human spirit. AMEN.

God is with Us

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
Christina Rossetti, April 27, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.


‘See, the home* of God is among mortals.
He will dwell* with them;
they will be his peoples,*
and God himself will be with them;*
he will wipe every tear from their eyes.
Death will be no more;
mourning and crying and pain will be no more,
for the first things have passed away.’


Our words from the reading from the Book of Revelation resonate indeed. The home of God is among mortals. God will be with us. God will wipe away every tear. Mourning and crying and pain will be no more. Words of comfort and reassurance we need this day.

God is not some distant figure. God is not merely a divine watchmaker who set the universe in motion and then sat back to watch impervious to what happens here. No, God is with us. The home of God is with us. God is here. That is what the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus tell us. God is with us. God knows the fullness of the human experience. God knows our joys. God knows our sorrows. There is no place we can go, no experience we can have, no emotion we can feel that God does not know it too.

In these days where we may find ourselves on a roller coaster of emotions, where we may feel desolate one day and then full of gratitude and hope the next (I am certainly finding myself feeling a wide range of emotions), it is comforting to know that we are not alone. God is here in all of it. In the sorrow and the heartbreak. In the jubilation and the hope. God is here with us.

Today is a day we commemorate the life of Christina Rossetti, the 19th century poet, who is probably best known for composing the text of the hymn “In the Bleak Midwinter.” A hymn that emphasizes the Incarnation. That God is with us. God gave of God’s very self so that we might better understand the depths of God’s love. And Love is exactly what we are called to offer in return. My favorite line in Rossetti’s hymn asks what we can possibly give God in response to the gift of God’s very self. The answer is “my heart.” Indeed it is. There is no more powerful gift to give than Love.

God has created us out of Love. God has created us to love God and to love each other. And remember the amazing thing about Love. There is no end to it. It cannot be out of stock. It cannot be backordered. It cannot be designated as “1 per customer.” Love begets Love. When it is given, there is just more. The more we give, the more we have to share.

No doubt there are days when we feel weary and overwhelmed. We may feel like withdrawing from the world. That is not the answer. Or at least that is not the only answer. We need to reach out in love. We need to see love being manifest in the world. In simple acts of kindness for a family member or a friend. In generosity for a neighbor or a stranger. In the ways we support each other and keep each other going through all the challenges of these days. If we follow Jesus’ example and reach our hands out in love, we will find our hearts filled. Love begets love.

And in those moments of feeling weary and overwhelmed, it is also good to remember the rest of that passage from Revelation. The tears will be wiped away. Mourning will be no more. The first things will pass away. This is not how it will always be. This too shall pass. We will be able to gather again. We will be able to do so many things again. Not tomorrow. Not even as soon as we might like, but it will happen. That is God’s promise. In the Incarnation and in Easter. Love was first, and Love has the last word. Challenge, pain, suffering - it will all come and it will go. Love remains. Always. Amen.

Rest for our Souls

Half Moon Bay in CA

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
Feast of Anselm of Canterbury

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word, who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
‘Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.’

I hope our Gospel text resonated for you today. “You will find rest for your souls.” Indeed. I would guess we are all in need of that. I will say that when I pulled up this text for today, I breathed a little deeper. My shoulders dropped a bit. I thought, “Thank you, God. I needed that text today. I needed that reminder. I need to know again that profound truth that we do not bear our burdens alone. Thanks be to God.”

I think there are two important truths for us to hold onto out of today’s readings. First, is that generous reminder in Jesus’ invitation to us that we do not journey alone. I am certainly one who can easily fall into the trap of thinking that I have to do something myself. Sometimes it is because I have high standards, and I don’t think anyone else will meet them. Or sometimes it is because I don’t want to be a burden to someone else. Or sometimes it is because I get stuck thinking that efficiency or results are more important than process. Never mind that I can work myself to exhaustion trying to balance all the spinning plates or complete all the tasks on my own.

Of course, Jesus’ invitation is for us to remember that he walks with us. I also think he is reminding us that the way to do ministry, the way to do life best is in collaboration. “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.” Indeed. What can we learn from Jesus? Well, he did not operate alone. He called his disciples to join him. He sent them out two by two, not solo. We are not meant to be solitary heroes. We are meant to be a team. We need each other.

Over and over again, my life experience has shown me that often the best solution to any given challenge is not my idea or my colleague’s idea. It is the version we hammer out together building on each other’s insights and wisdom. Jesus was on to an important truth about how we are meant to do our ministry when he sent the disciples out two by two. Collaboration is a far more life-giving way to minister.

Second, I think the important truth for us is about “rest.” That word shows up twice in just two lines of Scripture. Rest is so important. I don’t know about you all, but I am tired. I am weary. I could use that “rest for my soul” of which Jesus speaks. And as I talked about yesterday as well, in this time it can be truly challenging to do the normal practices that usually work for restoring our souls. We may need to rail and vent about that for a bit. I hope all of us have people in our lives with whom we can have truly honest conversations. Where we can say whatever is on our mind. They will listen with generosity and compassion, because they love us. Then, also because they love us, they will gently remind us that now that we have vented out all our anger and frustration, it might be possible for us to transform the situation. They kindly invite us to be our best selves moving forward, and they keep us from getting stuck in a place of anger and resentment.

So, if you are feeling frustrated, reach out to one of those friends or family members who serves that role for us. Vent. And then move forward.

There is a holy invitation in this time to expand our repertoire of soul restoring practices. An invitation to find new ways to rest, even in the midst of stress, anxiety, and very busy schedules. Those other practices will have their time again. They are not being replaced, only supplemented. Perhaps supplemented by a few minutes of quiet prayer. Or more exercise. Or drinking more water. Or rearranging our work setup to provide a different view or more comfortable way to sit or stand. Perhaps we will take up a new indoor hobby we had always been meaning to try. Whatever it may be, may we find new practices that are life giving and sustaining in this time. May we find small things that give rest for our souls.

May we also find solace and strength in God’s abiding love in our lives. May we give thanks for the companions on the way whose presence sustains us. AMEN.

Faith Tested in Fire

Fire from an Easter Vigil

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
1 Peter 1:1-12; John 14:1-17, Psalm 121
April 20, 2020


May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Our Epistle for today speaks of a faith that is tested in fire. Indeed. I would imagine we are all feeling that at times on these days. There are times when we would like to say, “Dear God, I know that there are good and important spiritual lessons for me to learn in the midst of all these challenges. And I would really like to learn them another way. My heart is too heavy. I am weary. This way of living is exhausting. Sometimes the anxiety and the fear get the best of me. I am sad. I am grieving. There is too much death. Too much loss. Please, God. I need a break.”

Well, my friends, I think the break we all crave (the one where we actually go on vacation and our schedule is not dictated by work or by the requirements of a quarantine) may still be a long way off. And yet, I am firmly convicted that there is still hope and possibility even in the midst of the times when we feel like we are being tested in fire. Even when we feel like we are being pushed to our limits and our faith and our patience are being stretched to the max. Our Gospel reading reminds us that Jesus does not abandon us. Jesus has sent us the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Spirit of Truth. And what is another name for the Holy Spirit, it is the Holy Comforter. And so there is hope. There is hope because we are not alone in the midst of it all, even in the fire. The Truth stands. Jesus did not say, you will have the Holy Spirit sometimes. He did not say you will have the Holy Spirit when you are your best self or you are having a good day. Jesus says we have the Holy Spirit, the Advocate, the Comforter with us forever. No matter what. We did not earn it. We cannot lose it. The Holy Spirit has been given to us an act of grace, as an outpouring of God’s love for us. Nothing, not even the fires of life, can take that away from us.

Well, you may be thinking, that sounds nice. I can believe that in my head. But what does that actually look like in my life? How do I live that truth out? How do I feel that truth in my heart? Especially when I do not have access to the things that normally restore my soul. I cannot physically be with the people whose mere presence incarnates hope and joy for me. I cannot go on vacation. I cannot go to my sacred places. I think, at least for me, the answer comes in shifting my mindset and my perspective.

A number of years ago, I read a book called “Sabbath in the Suburbs.” It is a great little book by a mom and Presbyterian pastor who tried to practice Sabbath fully for a year with her engineer husband and their three kids in suburban DC. I love the book because it is real. It is not Sabbath for someone in a monastery or who lives alone. It is about what Sabbath can look like when life is full and even overwhelming at times. One of the passages that has stayed with me from that book is the story of a Saturday in Advent when Mary Ann (the author) realizes that between Church and family obligations, sabbath is just not going to be possible that day. So, she decides she is just going to do all the tasks and obligations of the day “sabbathly.” She is going to shift her mindset. Rather than beating herself up because she cannot actually have a day of rest at home, she adapts to celebrate what is possible on that day. I wonder if we might be able to do something like that in these times?

Can we find and create for ourselves little windows of sabbath? Little windows of time or small ways to help us have elements of those practices that normally restore our souls. We cannot go to new or favorite places, but maybe we can watch a documentary about them or go back through our own pictures. We cannot hug a friend, but we can make a time to have a video call with them. We can let ourselves have a few more breaks in the day. Even just five minutes to breathe. To pray. To sit in the sunshine streaming through our windows. To listen to a piece of beautiful music. To write a friend.

We can stay strong through this fire if we are grounded in our faith. Grounded and connected to God and to each other. So whatever it is that restores your soul find ways to bring the principles of that into your life even if the practices cannot look like your ideal vision. Know that God is with you. Know that we have been given an Advocate, a Holy Comforter who does not abandon us, ever. We are not alone. Not today. Not ever. AMEN.

Reflections on Bright Tuesday

Sunrise

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom
Tuesday in Easter Week, April 14, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. And may that point us to the Living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

I learned recently that in the Eastern Church, today is known as Bright Tuesday. It is Bright Week actually. All the way from Easter Sunday to the first Sunday after Easter. It is a “bright” day and a “bright” week. Our lives have been illuminated with profound truths. The light of God’s love is shining brightly indeed. It is shining in our lives and in the world. Just when we need it the most.

We have an invitation to carry the truths of Easter with us, to extend our celebrations beyond a single feast day. We have an invitation to carry the reality of the resurrection, the truth of God’s promises to us throughout this week, throughout this season and beyond.

As I may have shared with you, when I pick a Lenten discipline, I prefer to pick up something to take on. A new habit that I will endeavor to continue after Easter, not just a temporary act of self-deprivation for a season. For me, that has been a far more spiritually fruitful way to do Lent. And I find myself wondering if there is not an invitation in this “Bright Week” for us to take on an Easter discipline. To allow the light of God’s love and truth to shine in our hearts and through our lives. An invitation to see how we might more fully enter into the Easter story and carry it with us for the rest of the year.

I think we could all use a little more Easter right now. I think we could all use a reminder of how God’s love can transform moments of horror and pain into stories of new life and possibility. And so I think there is a two-fold invitation for us on this Bright Tuesday.

First, it is to truly let the Easter message take up residence in our hearts and minds. This may seem particularly challenging. We are in the midst of a pandemic. Fear and anxiety are dominant emotions. For lots of reasons, we are experiencing grief and loss. This time is challenging on so many fronts. It can seem counterintuitive or just like too much to ask for us to be filled with Alleluias and joyful. But I am not talking about superficial celebration or merely trying to be cheerful and happy even when we feel sad. I am not expecting us to paper over or pretend our grief is not real. I am asking us to ground ourselves, to firmly plant our feet in the truth of Easter. We need the hope and joy of Easter to be our foundation. If we can start there then we can keep our perspective in the midst of our grief. In fact, Easter can hold the key to the beginning of our healing.

Easter is a story of transformation. It is a story of how God’s love can heal and change things. Don’t forget that the resurrected Christ still had his wounds. After Easter everything didn’t just become wonderful, easy or simple for the disciples. That is not what Easter promises us. Easter promises us that there is always hope. Even when things seem at the bleakest. Even in the darkness when we have come to care for our dead friend whose body seems to have been stolen. Even when we are sure that the suffering is more than we can handle. Even when it seems that things could not possible get any worse. Even when the fear and the pain are overwhelming. Easter promises us that is not the end of the story. Easter promises us that the dawn comes. The light comes. It promises us that in the light will shine in our hearts, in our lives and in the world. It might not always shine as soon or as bright as we would like, but that does not mean it is not there.

After we have grounded ourselves in the promises of Easter, I think the second invitation on this Bright Tuesday is to follow Mary Magdalene away from the tomb. Remember that Mary is known as the Apostle to the Apostles. Quite a title for a woman who would have been on the margins of society and regarded as someone else’s property. She is the Apostle because she was the first to see Jesus, and she was sent to proclaim the promises of Easter to the world. Just as God has done down through the centuries from Moses to Elijah to Jeremiah and Isaiah, from Miriam to Rahab to Ruth to Elizabeth, God picked the unlikely candidate to deliver God’s message. So what does that mean for us? It means it is not about us. It is not about our status or our identity. It is not about what we have or what we don’t have. It is about God. About God’s message. About God’s love. All of us are qualified to share God’s love with the world. All of us. We only need to keep ourselves grounded in the amazing truth of Easter, of the reality of resurrection. If we are connected to the transforming power of God’s love, then it will be evident to everyone we meet.

The world needs that love. It needs that love in abundance. Take note of all the ways it is manifest in your life at this present moment. Through the support of a friend. In the flowers and trees blooming forth. In the myriad of ways we are able to stay connected and build relationships even at a distance. In all the acts of kindness and generosity that are happening each and everyday in our communities. May we be inspired and go forth, like Mary Magdalene, and share the glorious truth of Easter with the world. AMEN.

Mary Magdalene and Easter Monday

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

Easter Monday, April 13, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

You know that feeling when you wake up after something significant has happened in your life. There is that first moment when you wake up, and it is as though nothing is different. Your mind is slowly orienting itself to the day. Then realization comes. You remember. Sometimes that means you are filled with joy. You have a new job. Today is the first day of vacation. You are going on a trip. Today is a milestone for you or someone you love. A day of celebration. Other times you are filled with sadness. There was a brief moment where everything was okay, but then the awareness came. Now what you feel are waves of sadness or anger or frustration. You are feeling the weight of the loss all over again.

I was thinking today about that moment when we first wake up. I was thinking about Mary Magdalene and wondering what it was like for her to wake up on this Easter Monday morning. I am sure it was better than waking up on Easter morning. On Easter she woke up in the dark, if she even slept at all. She gathered her things and went to the tomb to anoint Jesus’ body. She went to do that thing that women have done for centuries. She went to care for the dead. She went to do one final act of loving service for her Lord and teacher. Of course, we know how the story goes. Many of us likely heard it yesterday. Jesus isn’t there and although it takes a little while for Mary to understand what had happened, she becomes the first person to see the resurrected Jesus. She is the first to witness and know the truth of the resurrection. Easter Day did not go at all how she was expecting. Everything changed, for the better.

So what must it have been like for her to wake up on this Easter Monday? Did she have that moment of realization? Did she wake up first remembering the horrors of Friday? Did she wake up filled with grief and sadness? How long did it take for her to remember what happened yesterday? How long before she could be comforted by the conviction that everything had changed, that Jesus had risen from the dead? No doubt she got to a place of joy and hope, replaying that moment of recognition in the Garden outside the tomb. Jesus was alive again!

And yet, along with that sheer joy and sense of celebration, there is a tinge of heartache and sadness. Mary knows that the resurrection did not erase the events of Good Friday. Jesus still has his wounds. The Roman authorities are still angry and will likely be seeking out Jesus’ followers to persecute them. Our Gospel reading reminds us how scared the authorities were of what would happen if people knew that Jesus had been raised from the dead.

Mary knows that everything is different. She knows that God has the power to do transformational things for her and for the world. She knows that death is not the end. She knows that hope and love are stronger than death. And yet, she does not know how the story will end. Jesus has told her that she cannot hang on to him. He will not be staying with her. There is joy, so much joy, and there is also sadness and perhaps even a little fear for the future.

Well, that resonates for me today. I am finding a lot of comfort in the story of Mary Magdalene on this Easter Monday. We are in a similar state. Easter has happened, although the day probably did not go at all how we might have thought it would or wanted it to go. We have received wonderful news. We have had the powerful, inspiring, comforting truth of the primacy of God’s love, of the sheer power of God’s love in the face of humanity’s worst. We have had that truth affirmed for us. And now it is a new day and a new week. We want to hold onto that truth with the same fierceness with which Mary wanted to grab Jesus’ feet and keep him with her.

But neither Mary’s life nor our lives are stagnant. We cannot just stop everything and stay there. There is work to do. There is living to do. Even though we do not yet know what the future holds. We do not know when we will see the end of rising infection rates and death tolls, although there seem to be glimmers that all our collective efforts are having an impact. We do not know when we will see an end to our quarantines. We do not know when we will go back to work in our offices, to worship in our churches, to gather with friends and family, to simply be able to do an errand because we wanted to and without any personal protective equipment.

And so here we are on Easter Monday, in the very good company of Mary Magdalene and the other women, feeling grounded and filled with hope that we know the reality of resurrection. We know it is true. We know it is real. And we are waiting, with a little (or maybe even a lot) of anxiety for the future to unfold. We are waiting to see how the story will go.

I wish I knew already, as I am sure Mary did. I do know two important truths, which I hope comforted Mary as they can comfort us. First, is that God is at work. We may not know what tomorrow will bring, but we do know that God is here. God is with us. God’s life giving, loving Spirit is present with us through whatever challenges come. Second, we are not alone. Mary did not go to the tomb alone. We do not travel this journey alone. We have each other. And what a difference it makes to know that we do not travel alone. We are blessed with companions on the way who will comfort and inspire us. Who will share our burdens and encourage us.

It is Easter Monday. It is a joyful day. It is a complicated day. It is a day of waiting. And yet we can find solace in the truths of our faith and draw strength from the reality that we are not alone. AMEN.

Tuesday in Holy Week

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer, via Zoom
Tuesday in Holy Week, April 7, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

“God, save me from this hour.” No doubt all of us have prayed this prayer many times in our lives. God save me from the evils of this world. God save me from disease or hardship. God save me from myself. God save me from the seemingly insurmountable challenge in front of me. No doubt many of us would join in Jesus’ prayer in the Garden of Gethsemane, the prayer to let this cup pass from me. To avoid the challenge, to avoid the pain and suffering.

Of course, we would. Especially in the midst of pain and suffering, we desire nothing more than healing and wholeness. We desire a different way forward. And sometimes that is granted. Sometimes, we do indeed get a reprieve and a different path opens up. But most of the time we, like Jesus, have to follow the path that is set before us.

Now, whenever I talk about the particular challenges of pain and suffering, I think it is very important to draw a distinction between the suffering that is endemic to the human experience versus the suffering that is the result of injustice. When we encounter suffering that is the result of injustice, that is suffering we, as followers of Jesus, are called to work against. We are called to be agents of change and transformation. We are not called to merely “accept” that suffering as a part of life.

The suffering that we do have to accept is that which is endemic. It is the suffering that is the result of having mortal bodies, illness, injury, disease, and death are a given part of our life. But even though we can expect them, I don’t think any of us expected them on the scale which we are currently facing. There is a different sort of grief that comes with the enormity of this experience. Our grief is multi-layered. We are dealing with the grief of the numerous changes and losses in our own individual lives. We are also dealing with a societal and global grief as we watch the news.

So, what do we do with this reality, what insight does this Holy Week and today’s Scriptures in particular, have to offer us? Note what Jesus says after his prayer. He asks God to be glorified. He calls his followers to be the children of the light. I think there is a profound invitation for us in that. It invites us to be looking for light, looking for hope, looking for ways in which God’s glory can be made manifest even in the midst of suffering that is on an overwhelming scale.

Sometimes the journey through Holy Week is a largely intellectual one. We hear the stories, and we can imagine playing different parts in them. We can choose to enter the story as lightly or as deeply as we want. Other times, like our present circumstances, we experience the fullness of Holy Week in our own lives. The story of Jesus’ betrayal, death, suffering and crucifixion has deep meaning, not because we have chosen to enter into it as an intellectual exercise. The story of this week has meaning because the Passion Narrative resonates on a visceral level with our own experience. I imagine that is true for many of us this week.

Given that many of us may feel as though we are living out the realities of Holy Week in a profound way that makes it different from other years (and not just because we are doing our worship online), it is all the more important for us to remember that this week, that the crucifixion itself, that the worst humanity can do to each other, is not the end of the story. Death, suffering and pain never have the last word in the Christian story or in our own lives. As our Collect for today so beautifully says, “O God, by the passion of your blessed Son you made an instrument of shameful death to be for us the means of life.” A means of life. Indeed. Life, love, hope, and possibility are what follow from the Cross. Even out of the darkest moments, even out of the moments where it seems that all is lost, know that we are never lost. We are never separated from God’s love. God is our hope, and we can trust in that amazing truth. Today and everyday. AMEN.