EASTER
Last Sunday ended with these words:
"Many women were also there, looking on from a distance; they had followed Jesus from Galilee and had provided for him. Among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James and Joseph, and the mother of the sons of Zebedee.
When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.
The next day, that is, after the day of Preparation, the chief priests and the Pharisees gathered before Pilate and said, "Sir, we remember what that impostor said while he was still alive, `After three days I will rise again.' Therefore command the tomb to be made secure until the third day; otherwise his disciples may go and steal him away, and tell the people, `He has been raised from the dead,' and the last deception would be worse than the first." Pilate said to them, "You have a guard of soldiers; go, make it as secure as you can." So they went with the guard and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone."
The stone blocking the tomb was sealed. It was sealed against any deception that might be perpetrated on the people. Like a letter with a big blob of wax imprinted with the seal of the sender, like a triple locked door of an apartment in the inner city, the stone covering of the door of the tomb received a seal of the Roman Empire. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary saw it and the guards saw it. It was over - death was final - no going back. It was the end.
How often in our lives do we have times when we are as stuck as that tomb? Hearts sealed tight - holding ourselves in so we won't be hurt any more than we already are.
As a Larry Warren of Knoxville, TN says:
"A time of when all you could do was weep ... triggered perhaps by
Words from a doctor "I'm sorry the tests confirmed that it is malignant."
A phone call in the night "There's been an accident, come to the emergency room right away."
Words from your employer "We are going to have to let you go."
Words from a parent to a young child "You know honey that Mommy and Daddy have not been getting along lately. We have decided to get a divorce."
These are times we pull the cave around us and seal the doors against everything. Words intended for hope and comfort seem empty and meaningless. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary come to the this place on that Easter Sunday 2000 years ago. They come with hearts sealed against hope, hearts heavy with grief and hands heavy with the things of death.
In the creative chaos of the moment they discover that it is not the tomb of rock that contains death and despair - that thief of hearts - Jesus - has slipped out into life and is now knocking on the sealed tombs of their hearts. Knocking, asking, seeking to be allowed into our places of despair and death and hopelessness. Calling us out like so many Lazurus' - be unbound, come follow me. Death is conquered. Christ is Risen.
It does not always happen in an instant - often it takes the word of someone who has been in this place before us. Christ speaks through those who have taken this journey and come through to a new place - a place of life and hope. Sometimes it is the healing of nature - Don Clendenin puts it like this:
"Despite the shadows of death that darken our world, if you look carefully you see Easter resurrection breaking out everywhere. In the boisterous laughter of a child rollicking with the family dog. In the bright orange poppies, red azaleas, yellow daffodils, pink dogwoods, and white apple blossoms that paint the neighborhood in an extravaganza of spring-time color. In a leisurely dinner with neighbors. In the human creativity of art and architecture, film and music, painting and photography. In the self-sacrificial goodness of so many people the world over. Magic is in the air."
Or in this poem by John Niehardt, 1908
Once more the northbound Wonder
Brings back the goose and crane,
Prophetic Sons of Thunder,
Apostles of the Rain.
In many a battling river
The broken gorges boom;
Behold, the Mighty Giver
Emerges from the tomb!
Now robins chant the story
Of how the wintry sward
Is litten with the glory
Of the Angel of the Lord.
His countenance is lightning
And still His robe is snow,
As when the dawn was brightening
Two thousand years ago.
O who can be a stranger
To what has come to pass?
The Pity of the Manger
Is mighty in the grass.
Undaunted by Decembers,
The sap is faithful yet.
The giving Earth remembers,
And only men forget.
We do forget - but today we are reminded - as St. Paul says in his letter to the Romans - nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. Jesus goes ahead of us - he is the beginning, the path and the end of our journey.
The seal upon our hearts that he offers is reflected in this passage from Song of Solomon
"Set me as a seal upon your heart, as a seal upon your arm; for love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave. Its flashes are flashes of fire, a raging flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can floods drown it. If one offered for love all the wealth of one's house, it would be utterly scorned. Song of Solomon 8: 6-7
HAPPY EASTER
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Monday, March 21, 2005
More on donkeys
A friend sent this poem to add to my donkey data base.
THE DONKEY
G.K. Chesterton
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
A friend sent this poem to add to my donkey data base.
THE DONKEY
G.K. Chesterton
When fishes flew and forests walked
And figs grew upon thorn,
Some moment when the moon was blood
Then surely I was born;
With monstrous head and sickening cry
And ears like errant wings,
The devil's walking parody
On all four-footed things.
The tattered outlaw of the earth,
Of ancient crooked will;
Starve, scourge, deride me: I am dumb,
I keep my secret still.
Fools! For I also had my hour;
One far fierce hour and sweet:
There was a shout about my ears,
And palms before my feet.
Friday, March 18, 2005
PALM SUNDAY Readings
The story of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem as the beginning of Holy Week sets up a classic arc of hope expressed, hope dashed, hope re-imagined. The prophecy from Zechariah 9:9 is being fulfilled in Jesus' action on this day. People are visually reminded of their dreams of liberation from oppression. Each person has a dream of how this will be accomplished. As the week progresses all the dreams die, nailed to the cross with Jesus. The re-imagining of the dream comes but not this week.
Lane Denson in his daily (usually) meditation Out of Nowhere reflects on another telling of this event in Luke. Jesus says "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out." That simple affirmation could be the most overlooked and unsung song of perceptive wisdom in all the events and words that surround us during our celebration of Passion Week.
Bennett Sims reminds us in his book on servant leadership that the quantum physics theorists are certain that there is a caring pulse of energy that animates and interconnects all the entities in the cosmos. Teilhard de Chardin, the French Jesuit paleontologist, outraged his time when he said that the "molecules make love." This, of course, got his books banned as a consequence. In Jesus' time, it might have been -- indeed, was -- seen all along that the created order in all its facets always knew and recognized in their own way who and what was present in him among them. The daemons, the loaves and fishes, the storms, winds, and waves, the human maladies, the fig trees, Satan itself in the wilderness, all were on to what had happened and was going on to happen when the Word became flesh. No wonder Jesus could say that if the crowds were silent, the very stones, themselves, the seemingly most inert and mute of all creation (and, by the by, the epitome of efficiency), would burst forth in adulation. We call it atomic energy, but by whatever name, it remains, Benedicite, omnia opera Domini -- "O all ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord." If the events we celebrate during this Passion Week tell us nothing more, they remind us once again how inseparable are we one from the other and from the very stones along the way. They may be inert, they may seem to have no freedom at all, but when it comes to presence and endurance and dependability -- and even to praise -- we can learn from them a thing or two."
I often collect stones when I travel. Small reminders of my journeys. They speak to me of places that are important to me. I put them in the small fountain in our entry way. There is a Japanese tradition of meditation that involves listening to stones. Annie Dillard has a book called Teaching a Stone to Talk. There is something wise in stones. One has to sit very still to hear the wisdom. In our current environmental crisis, perhaps the stones are screaming at us to pay attention to the cries of the earth before it is too late.
Jesus enters Jerusalem riding the donkey of hope - a donkey is a determined animal, friendly and easy to ride, but also concerned with its own needs and self preservation, regardless of what humans think it should be doing. Maybe between stones and donkeys there is a lesson - a lesson about persistence, stillness, goals, and keeping the faith in the midst of confusing messages from others.
Take up a small stone today and hold it in your hand. As it warms to your body temperature, notice its shape and how it might have come to be in its current form. Listen to its story.
The story of Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem as the beginning of Holy Week sets up a classic arc of hope expressed, hope dashed, hope re-imagined. The prophecy from Zechariah 9:9 is being fulfilled in Jesus' action on this day. People are visually reminded of their dreams of liberation from oppression. Each person has a dream of how this will be accomplished. As the week progresses all the dreams die, nailed to the cross with Jesus. The re-imagining of the dream comes but not this week.
Lane Denson in his daily (usually) meditation Out of Nowhere reflects on another telling of this event in Luke. Jesus says "I tell you, if these were silent, the very stones would cry out." That simple affirmation could be the most overlooked and unsung song of perceptive wisdom in all the events and words that surround us during our celebration of Passion Week.
Bennett Sims reminds us in his book on servant leadership that the quantum physics theorists are certain that there is a caring pulse of energy that animates and interconnects all the entities in the cosmos. Teilhard de Chardin, the French Jesuit paleontologist, outraged his time when he said that the "molecules make love." This, of course, got his books banned as a consequence. In Jesus' time, it might have been -- indeed, was -- seen all along that the created order in all its facets always knew and recognized in their own way who and what was present in him among them. The daemons, the loaves and fishes, the storms, winds, and waves, the human maladies, the fig trees, Satan itself in the wilderness, all were on to what had happened and was going on to happen when the Word became flesh. No wonder Jesus could say that if the crowds were silent, the very stones, themselves, the seemingly most inert and mute of all creation (and, by the by, the epitome of efficiency), would burst forth in adulation. We call it atomic energy, but by whatever name, it remains, Benedicite, omnia opera Domini -- "O all ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord." If the events we celebrate during this Passion Week tell us nothing more, they remind us once again how inseparable are we one from the other and from the very stones along the way. They may be inert, they may seem to have no freedom at all, but when it comes to presence and endurance and dependability -- and even to praise -- we can learn from them a thing or two."
I often collect stones when I travel. Small reminders of my journeys. They speak to me of places that are important to me. I put them in the small fountain in our entry way. There is a Japanese tradition of meditation that involves listening to stones. Annie Dillard has a book called Teaching a Stone to Talk. There is something wise in stones. One has to sit very still to hear the wisdom. In our current environmental crisis, perhaps the stones are screaming at us to pay attention to the cries of the earth before it is too late.
Jesus enters Jerusalem riding the donkey of hope - a donkey is a determined animal, friendly and easy to ride, but also concerned with its own needs and self preservation, regardless of what humans think it should be doing. Maybe between stones and donkeys there is a lesson - a lesson about persistence, stillness, goals, and keeping the faith in the midst of confusing messages from others.
Take up a small stone today and hold it in your hand. As it warms to your body temperature, notice its shape and how it might have come to be in its current form. Listen to its story.
Monday, March 07, 2005
LENT Readings
On my way to Sewanee TN for Education for Ministry Training of Trainers. Hopefully there will be some signs of Spring. The readings for this Sunday have a theme of coming back to life from being dead. The "dry bones" of Ezekiel - are symbolic of a people who have had the life taken out of them by oppression and by conqurering powers. Lazarus has died to this life. In both cases the creative power of God and the love of the community bring them back to life. To me the key words are spoken by Jesus when as it says in the text - The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."
With what are people bound in our time? Around the world, poverty and disease bind people from living fully. In Wyoming, it is drugs, especially "meth" that binds people. Held in bondage by addiction, how can we be the agents of unbinding. What meaning in life can we offer that is more attractive than a short term "high?" All dream of having a meaningful life, of making a difference, and for love - how can the community provide a space to make these dreams come true or at least be possible?
On my way to Sewanee TN for Education for Ministry Training of Trainers. Hopefully there will be some signs of Spring. The readings for this Sunday have a theme of coming back to life from being dead. The "dry bones" of Ezekiel - are symbolic of a people who have had the life taken out of them by oppression and by conqurering powers. Lazarus has died to this life. In both cases the creative power of God and the love of the community bring them back to life. To me the key words are spoken by Jesus when as it says in the text - The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."
With what are people bound in our time? Around the world, poverty and disease bind people from living fully. In Wyoming, it is drugs, especially "meth" that binds people. Held in bondage by addiction, how can we be the agents of unbinding. What meaning in life can we offer that is more attractive than a short term "high?" All dream of having a meaningful life, of making a difference, and for love - how can the community provide a space to make these dreams come true or at least be possible?
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
4 Lent Readings
Here is one of my favorite reflections on the Man Born Blind - the gospel for this week found in John 9.
It is from Stories of Faith by John Shea.
Another time
Jesus smeared God like mud
on the eyes of a man born blind
and pushed him toward the pool of Siloam.
The blind man splashed his eyes
and stared into the rippling reflection
of the face he had only felt.
First he did a handstand, then a cartwheel,
and rounded off his joy
with a series of summersaults.
He ran to his neighbors,
singing the news.
They said,
"You look like the blind beggar
but we cannot be sure."
The problem was never
that he was blind
and could not look out
but that they could see
and did not look in.
"I am the one, the seeing blind!"
They seized him in mid cartwheel
and dragged him to the authorities.
"What do you think of the man who made the mud?"
But the man born blind
was staring at a green vase.
His mouth was open slightly
as if he was being fed by its color.
"He is a sinner," said the priest.
who knew what pleased God's eyes.
"Can one who lights candles in the eyes of night not have the fire of God in his hands?" said the man fondling the green vase.
The priests murmurred
and sent for his parents
who looked their son
straight in his new eyes
and said,
"Looks like our son.
But he is old enough
to speak for himself."
Off the hook they hurried home.
"All I know," said the man
with the green vase tucked under his robe,
"is that I was blind
and now I see."
But with his new eyes
came a turbulence in his soul
as if the man who had calmed one sea
turned another to storm.
So before those who locked knowledge in a small room
and kept the key on a string around their neck
he launched into a theology of sin and salvation.
It was then
that the full horror of the miracle
visited the priests.
"You, steeped in sin, lecture us!"
They tore him from the podium
and threw him into the street
where a man was rubbing mud from his hands.
"How did it go?"
"I talked back."
The man with new eyes
took in every laughing line
on the face of the Son
who was as happy as a free man
dancing on the far side of the Red Sea.
Here is one of my favorite reflections on the Man Born Blind - the gospel for this week found in John 9.
It is from Stories of Faith by John Shea.
Another time
Jesus smeared God like mud
on the eyes of a man born blind
and pushed him toward the pool of Siloam.
The blind man splashed his eyes
and stared into the rippling reflection
of the face he had only felt.
First he did a handstand, then a cartwheel,
and rounded off his joy
with a series of summersaults.
He ran to his neighbors,
singing the news.
They said,
"You look like the blind beggar
but we cannot be sure."
The problem was never
that he was blind
and could not look out
but that they could see
and did not look in.
"I am the one, the seeing blind!"
They seized him in mid cartwheel
and dragged him to the authorities.
"What do you think of the man who made the mud?"
But the man born blind
was staring at a green vase.
His mouth was open slightly
as if he was being fed by its color.
"He is a sinner," said the priest.
who knew what pleased God's eyes.
"Can one who lights candles in the eyes of night not have the fire of God in his hands?" said the man fondling the green vase.
The priests murmurred
and sent for his parents
who looked their son
straight in his new eyes
and said,
"Looks like our son.
But he is old enough
to speak for himself."
Off the hook they hurried home.
"All I know," said the man
with the green vase tucked under his robe,
"is that I was blind
and now I see."
But with his new eyes
came a turbulence in his soul
as if the man who had calmed one sea
turned another to storm.
So before those who locked knowledge in a small room
and kept the key on a string around their neck
he launched into a theology of sin and salvation.
It was then
that the full horror of the miracle
visited the priests.
"You, steeped in sin, lecture us!"
They tore him from the podium
and threw him into the street
where a man was rubbing mud from his hands.
"How did it go?"
"I talked back."
The man with new eyes
took in every laughing line
on the face of the Son
who was as happy as a free man
dancing on the far side of the Red Sea.
I am not preaching this week but thought I would share this version of Psalm 23 from Nathan Nettleton of Laughing Bird
You, LORD, are my guide in the wilderness;
there is nothing more I could need.
You set up camp in places of beauty and shelter;
you lead the way on secluded tracks
beside creeks of cool clean water.
I feel my spirit breathing freely again;
your reputation puts me at ease;
I leave the navigating to you, and follow.
Even if we hike through a perilous valley,
where crows keep a menacing watch,
fear will still not get the better of me.
As long as I stick with you
I know I’ll make the distance;
with a knife and a bit of rope
you seem able to tackle any challenge.
You cook up a feast for me,
as those who wanted to feed on me watch, frustrated.
You pamper me like an honoured guest
and constantly top up my glass.
My life feels charmed, each and every day.
Love, mercy and all good things
keep falling into my lap.
I’m with you for life, LORD,
where you go, I’ll go;
where you live, I’ll live.
You, LORD, are my guide in the wilderness;
there is nothing more I could need.
You set up camp in places of beauty and shelter;
you lead the way on secluded tracks
beside creeks of cool clean water.
I feel my spirit breathing freely again;
your reputation puts me at ease;
I leave the navigating to you, and follow.
Even if we hike through a perilous valley,
where crows keep a menacing watch,
fear will still not get the better of me.
As long as I stick with you
I know I’ll make the distance;
with a knife and a bit of rope
you seem able to tackle any challenge.
You cook up a feast for me,
as those who wanted to feed on me watch, frustrated.
You pamper me like an honoured guest
and constantly top up my glass.
My life feels charmed, each and every day.
Love, mercy and all good things
keep falling into my lap.
I’m with you for life, LORD,
where you go, I’ll go;
where you live, I’ll live.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
3 LENT Readings
This "really" is one of my favorite readings! I know I often say this, but it is because so many stories in the Bible evoke a response in me. This is the Gospel that I picked for my ordination to the priesthood. It speaks of the call to all of us, regardless of our lives to date, to proclaim the boundary breaking news of Jesus. In this story Jesus breaks the boundaries of gender, sex, religion, social class, ethnicity, and many others. Slowly leading the woman to see herself in a new way - a way that makes it possible to go back to her town square and tell what she has heard. To get an idea of how breathtaking this is - check out Jerome Neyrey's Study of John 4. Another commentary on the Woman at the Well is at Out of Nowhere by Lane Denson. He writes of how:
"In a rapid succession of shocks, a stranger, a Jew, a man speaks to her, a woman, a Samaritan. He speaks not only across religious and ethnic and sexual boundaries, but with an alarming candor and penetrating insight. Then he brings her back to earth and does a "guy thing." He asks for a drink of water. But then he speaks to her of a living water that does away with thirst forever. Step by step, he lays bare her past and her present and sees right through her into her future. In one stroke, the rigid sanctions of the kind of worship and religion and custom that she and her people have embraced for centuries are abolished. Jesus proposes a revolutionary new liturgy based not on the usual male-dominated, retrogressive system of exclusion and judgment, but a worship grounded unpretentiously and candidly in spirit and in truth."
Currently the Episcopal/Anglican Church is passing through a time of deciding who is in and who is out. This reading might be worth meditating on. Contrary to CNN and AP the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada have not been "kicked out." The Primates (leaders of each independent Anglican church or province) met in Ireland and sent out a message.
One of the better responses is by The Rt. Rev. Michael Ingham of New Westminster in Canada. New Westminster was the first to authorize same sex blessings which, with the Consecration of The Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson in New Hampshire in the US, have the church in a swivet. To me the Woman at the Well shows what Jesus thinks of our artificial boundaries on who can proclaim the Good News.
Your link desc
This "really" is one of my favorite readings! I know I often say this, but it is because so many stories in the Bible evoke a response in me. This is the Gospel that I picked for my ordination to the priesthood. It speaks of the call to all of us, regardless of our lives to date, to proclaim the boundary breaking news of Jesus. In this story Jesus breaks the boundaries of gender, sex, religion, social class, ethnicity, and many others. Slowly leading the woman to see herself in a new way - a way that makes it possible to go back to her town square and tell what she has heard. To get an idea of how breathtaking this is - check out Jerome Neyrey's Study of John 4. Another commentary on the Woman at the Well is at Out of Nowhere by Lane Denson. He writes of how:
"In a rapid succession of shocks, a stranger, a Jew, a man speaks to her, a woman, a Samaritan. He speaks not only across religious and ethnic and sexual boundaries, but with an alarming candor and penetrating insight. Then he brings her back to earth and does a "guy thing." He asks for a drink of water. But then he speaks to her of a living water that does away with thirst forever. Step by step, he lays bare her past and her present and sees right through her into her future. In one stroke, the rigid sanctions of the kind of worship and religion and custom that she and her people have embraced for centuries are abolished. Jesus proposes a revolutionary new liturgy based not on the usual male-dominated, retrogressive system of exclusion and judgment, but a worship grounded unpretentiously and candidly in spirit and in truth."
Currently the Episcopal/Anglican Church is passing through a time of deciding who is in and who is out. This reading might be worth meditating on. Contrary to CNN and AP the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Church of Canada have not been "kicked out." The Primates (leaders of each independent Anglican church or province) met in Ireland and sent out a message.
One of the better responses is by The Rt. Rev. Michael Ingham of New Westminster in Canada. New Westminster was the first to authorize same sex blessings which, with the Consecration of The Rt. Rev. Gene Robinson in New Hampshire in the US, have the church in a swivet. To me the Woman at the Well shows what Jesus thinks of our artificial boundaries on who can proclaim the Good News.
Your link desc
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
2 LENT Readings
This weeks lessons revolve around journeying. In the case of Abraham it is an external journey and for Nicodemus it is an inward journey. Both are seeking blessing. I define the word blessing as a state of being where we feel at one (atone) with the holy. In our last week's lesson Jesus went into the wilderness to test himself (his being) against the temptations that we all experience. Now he can speak from experience to the issues of humankind. Abraham leaves home to seek this blessing in a strange and unknown land. Nicodemus is challenged by Jesus to be born "from above" - the word Jesus uses has multiply meanings - born again, born anew, born from above - all indicating an awakening into another way of looking at oneself and one's life. Jesus speaks of a wind that blows where it chooses, and we do not know where it comes from nor where it is going. The life of the Spirit calls us to that sort of awareness of the moment - a relationship with God who may call to us from all sorts of places and send us on unlikely journeys.
From my last post you can see that I am thinking about this theme. Partly from thinking about my own ancestors and their search for a "promised land," partly because Jim and I are on a trip to the Oregon coast and other points west, and partly because I have been thinking about my own life journey. Mostly I have questions and not too many answers. But I see parallels in all traveling - spiritual, physical, emotional. We depend upon angels and strangers as well as family and friends. WH Auden wrote a poem (it is a hymn in Hymnal 1982 also) that speaks to me of this type of journeying.
He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.
He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.
He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.
This weeks lessons revolve around journeying. In the case of Abraham it is an external journey and for Nicodemus it is an inward journey. Both are seeking blessing. I define the word blessing as a state of being where we feel at one (atone) with the holy. In our last week's lesson Jesus went into the wilderness to test himself (his being) against the temptations that we all experience. Now he can speak from experience to the issues of humankind. Abraham leaves home to seek this blessing in a strange and unknown land. Nicodemus is challenged by Jesus to be born "from above" - the word Jesus uses has multiply meanings - born again, born anew, born from above - all indicating an awakening into another way of looking at oneself and one's life. Jesus speaks of a wind that blows where it chooses, and we do not know where it comes from nor where it is going. The life of the Spirit calls us to that sort of awareness of the moment - a relationship with God who may call to us from all sorts of places and send us on unlikely journeys.
From my last post you can see that I am thinking about this theme. Partly from thinking about my own ancestors and their search for a "promised land," partly because Jim and I are on a trip to the Oregon coast and other points west, and partly because I have been thinking about my own life journey. Mostly I have questions and not too many answers. But I see parallels in all traveling - spiritual, physical, emotional. We depend upon angels and strangers as well as family and friends. WH Auden wrote a poem (it is a hymn in Hymnal 1982 also) that speaks to me of this type of journeying.
He is the Way.
Follow Him through the Land of Unlikeness;
You will see rare beasts, and have unique adventures.
He is the Truth.
Seek Him in the Kingdom of Anxiety;
You will come to a great city that has expected your return for years.
He is the Life.
Love Him in the World of the Flesh;
And at your marriage all its occasions shall dance for joy.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
1 LENT
I have not done much with the readings for 1 Lent as we are away from Wyoming and its old cold crusty snow and at Cannon Beach, Oregon with its soft warm springlike rain. It was below zero as we crossed South Pass in the Rocky Mountains. I always think of my great grandmother who crossed that pass in a covered wagon. She was a young girl at the time. Most all of my ancestors were recent immigrants. My mother's mother came from Scotland in her early teens. My mother's father's people were the covered wagon folks. My father was born in Norway. So thinking about them makes me wonder about the forces that made them pull up their roots, leave family (which they did not think they would see again) and country to plant themselves in Oregon. I don't know if they found it quite the wilderness that Jesus found following his baptism or who the angels were who ministered to them. I am sure there were many temptations and some followed those with all good intentions. I think that is the thing about the "devil" - what is offered is so attractive and normal. Why not try to feed everyone by using a little magic? Why not become the ruler of the world to make it a better place? Why not do something spectacular to get some attention? I don't really have any answers but it is my meditation for this first part of Lent. Click here for more on 1 Lent.
I have not done much with the readings for 1 Lent as we are away from Wyoming and its old cold crusty snow and at Cannon Beach, Oregon with its soft warm springlike rain. It was below zero as we crossed South Pass in the Rocky Mountains. I always think of my great grandmother who crossed that pass in a covered wagon. She was a young girl at the time. Most all of my ancestors were recent immigrants. My mother's mother came from Scotland in her early teens. My mother's father's people were the covered wagon folks. My father was born in Norway. So thinking about them makes me wonder about the forces that made them pull up their roots, leave family (which they did not think they would see again) and country to plant themselves in Oregon. I don't know if they found it quite the wilderness that Jesus found following his baptism or who the angels were who ministered to them. I am sure there were many temptations and some followed those with all good intentions. I think that is the thing about the "devil" - what is offered is so attractive and normal. Why not try to feed everyone by using a little magic? Why not become the ruler of the world to make it a better place? Why not do something spectacular to get some attention? I don't really have any answers but it is my meditation for this first part of Lent. Click here for more on 1 Lent.
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Ash Wednesday
ASH WEDNESDAY
These are notes for a sermon I preached on Ash Wednesday after 9/11
As I was looking at resources for Ash Wednesday I came upon the United Methodist Church
website and saw in bold letters:
WARNING - ashes and water do not mix - will cause burning!!
And so it does. It makes a mixture that will burn skin. But the image captured my imagination and I thought it is even truer than the physical effects of mixing ash and water. Water and ashes are two of our most powerful symbols.
Water, used for Baptism where we are first marked with the sign of the cross representing birth, new life, renewal, and liberation from slavery.
Today is Ash Wednesday, when we are once again marked with the sign of the cross, now representing our mortality, death, endings, and enslavement.
Burning, to me symbolizes the power of the Spirit coming alive in our lives, the awareness of our finite time on this earth and the power of the resurrection combine to light the fire of the Holy Spirit in our lives.
Ashes bring home the reality of death -- we are mortal, we will die. This year we are even more aware of the meaning of ashes as we saw the terror of September 11. As we say in the imposition of ashes - "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." But that is not the end of the story. Easter tells us that there is not just death and endings. Easter comes to tell us that we are also to “remember that we are love and to love we will return.”
Let us consider Lent as journey from today - Ash Wednesday. Recognizing our finite time here on earth, journeying to Easter and coming back to the awareness of the fullness of life as granted in our creation in the image of God.
I have always thought the Ash Wednesay Gospel was odd for the imposition of Ashes. We hear that we should not practice our piety in public but perhaps we take this so seriously we become afraid of practicing any piety before others and yet...
The prophet, Joel, calls to us -- “Sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly, gather the people, sanctify the congregation, assemble the aged, gather the children, even infants at the breast and why -- so people will not ask “where is their God?” Let us show forth the holiness of our creator, so people will know that we are a holy people - commited to God and followers of Jesus Christ.
How might we do this? I suggest we move beyond chocolate to declare our own fast ---
Fast from judgment, Feast on compassion
Fast from greed, Feast on sharing
Fast from scarcity, Feast on abundance
Fast from fear, Feast on peace
Fast from lies, Feast on truth
Fast from gossip, Feast on praise
Fast from anxiety, Feast on patience
Fast from evil, Feast on kindness
Fast from apathy, Feast on engagement
Fast from discontent, Feast on gratitude
Fast from noise, Feast on silence
Fast from discouragement, Feast on hope
Fast from hatred, Feast on love
What will be your fast? What will be your feast?
(Litany: h/t to PB Arthur Lichtenberger - expanded)
These are notes for a sermon I preached on Ash Wednesday after 9/11
As I was looking at resources for Ash Wednesday I came upon the United Methodist Church
website and saw in bold letters:
WARNING - ashes and water do not mix - will cause burning!!
And so it does. It makes a mixture that will burn skin. But the image captured my imagination and I thought it is even truer than the physical effects of mixing ash and water. Water and ashes are two of our most powerful symbols.
Water, used for Baptism where we are first marked with the sign of the cross representing birth, new life, renewal, and liberation from slavery.
Today is Ash Wednesday, when we are once again marked with the sign of the cross, now representing our mortality, death, endings, and enslavement.
Burning, to me symbolizes the power of the Spirit coming alive in our lives, the awareness of our finite time on this earth and the power of the resurrection combine to light the fire of the Holy Spirit in our lives.
Ashes bring home the reality of death -- we are mortal, we will die. This year we are even more aware of the meaning of ashes as we saw the terror of September 11. As we say in the imposition of ashes - "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." But that is not the end of the story. Easter tells us that there is not just death and endings. Easter comes to tell us that we are also to “remember that we are love and to love we will return.”
Let us consider Lent as journey from today - Ash Wednesday. Recognizing our finite time here on earth, journeying to Easter and coming back to the awareness of the fullness of life as granted in our creation in the image of God.
I have always thought the Ash Wednesay Gospel was odd for the imposition of Ashes. We hear that we should not practice our piety in public but perhaps we take this so seriously we become afraid of practicing any piety before others and yet...
The prophet, Joel, calls to us -- “Sanctify a fast, call a solemn assembly, gather the people, sanctify the congregation, assemble the aged, gather the children, even infants at the breast and why -- so people will not ask “where is their God?” Let us show forth the holiness of our creator, so people will know that we are a holy people - commited to God and followers of Jesus Christ.
How might we do this? I suggest we move beyond chocolate to declare our own fast ---
Fast from judgment, Feast on compassion
Fast from greed, Feast on sharing
Fast from scarcity, Feast on abundance
Fast from fear, Feast on peace
Fast from lies, Feast on truth
Fast from gossip, Feast on praise
Fast from anxiety, Feast on patience
Fast from evil, Feast on kindness
Fast from apathy, Feast on engagement
Fast from discontent, Feast on gratitude
Fast from noise, Feast on silence
Fast from discouragement, Feast on hope
Fast from hatred, Feast on love
What will be your fast? What will be your feast?
(Litany: h/t to PB Arthur Lichtenberger - expanded)
Thursday, February 03, 2005
TRANSFIGURATION Readings
The subject of the readings this week are an encounter with the holiness of God and how it changes everything for those who see it. Twice per year we have this lesson in the church cycle of readings. It is hard for the preacher to think of anything new to say about it. I move around from church to church because I am an Interim Priest (being the priest for a church while they are searching for a Rector) or doing supply (Sunday services only). It means that most people have not heard what I have said before or the stories that go along with those sermons. But nevertheless I try to find some new life for myself if nothing else. I am interested in what Joan Chittister has to say on this text. Jesus leads Peter, James, and John to the mountaintop where they have a mystical experience and then struggle with whether to stay and build shrines or descend into the valleys of hard work and daily life. But God says This is my Beloved . . . Listen to him. Jesus leads them down the mountain into the work of healing the world. telling them not to discuss what they have seen. He does not want shrines or religious piety - he wants us to take the sense of mystery we have experienced and use it as fuel to energize our ministries.
Our online EFM group uses pictures and paintings to reflect on scripture. Often the artist evokes some deeper meaning than the words can convey. La Transfiguration is the one for this week. In this painting Elijah and Moses are holding Jesus in embraces. Usually I think of an image where Jesus is standing in the middle and Elijah and Moses are standing on either side representing the Prophets and the Law - all that has come before standing side by side with Jesus. But here they are so intertwined it is hard to separate the figures. Peter, James, and John stand off to one side - staring. To me it reflects that there is no separation in God. There is not an "old" testament (as in over and done with) and a "new" testament (the fresh and different). They are intertwined and speak the same mesage of justice and compassion.
Here is a transfiguration story from BBC. Young reporter keeps an online diary of his dying of cancer to keep the terror from overwhelming him. He died last week. His story tells of his personal transfiguration and how he lived his life to the full.
The subject of the readings this week are an encounter with the holiness of God and how it changes everything for those who see it. Twice per year we have this lesson in the church cycle of readings. It is hard for the preacher to think of anything new to say about it. I move around from church to church because I am an Interim Priest (being the priest for a church while they are searching for a Rector) or doing supply (Sunday services only). It means that most people have not heard what I have said before or the stories that go along with those sermons. But nevertheless I try to find some new life for myself if nothing else. I am interested in what Joan Chittister has to say on this text. Jesus leads Peter, James, and John to the mountaintop where they have a mystical experience and then struggle with whether to stay and build shrines or descend into the valleys of hard work and daily life. But God says This is my Beloved . . . Listen to him. Jesus leads them down the mountain into the work of healing the world. telling them not to discuss what they have seen. He does not want shrines or religious piety - he wants us to take the sense of mystery we have experienced and use it as fuel to energize our ministries.
Our online EFM group uses pictures and paintings to reflect on scripture. Often the artist evokes some deeper meaning than the words can convey. La Transfiguration is the one for this week. In this painting Elijah and Moses are holding Jesus in embraces. Usually I think of an image where Jesus is standing in the middle and Elijah and Moses are standing on either side representing the Prophets and the Law - all that has come before standing side by side with Jesus. But here they are so intertwined it is hard to separate the figures. Peter, James, and John stand off to one side - staring. To me it reflects that there is no separation in God. There is not an "old" testament (as in over and done with) and a "new" testament (the fresh and different). They are intertwined and speak the same mesage of justice and compassion.
Here is a transfiguration story from BBC. Young reporter keeps an online diary of his dying of cancer to keep the terror from overwhelming him. He died last week. His story tells of his personal transfiguration and how he lived his life to the full.
Sunday, January 23, 2005
3 Epiphany thoughts Bible Readings
I am not preaching today so this is a collection of random ideas to go with the readings and other bits that washed up on my shore this week.
The psalm is a song to the delight that the creator takes in human creatures and how far from our ability to understand are the ways of creation. Reading Harvard Magazine I happened upon an article on nanotechnology. It seems that the more we discover the deeper the mysteries.
Paul's letter to the Corinthians comments on the divisions in the church. Seems like the church has never been free from controversy and division. I think we need to learn how to live with difference since this is a permanent state. The Rt. Rev. Michael Curry of North Carolina preached to this topic in his annual address to the Diocese of NC. A bishop from Africa said he did not want to visit the House of Bishops after the election of Gene Robinson in New Hampshire but the demand of the Gospel that makes Christians brothers and sisters called him to move beyond his enmity to come to listen. He still does not agree with the US church but he understands more and hopes that he is more understood. The call to sit in one another's presence, listen to one another and walk the journey together is a difficult call but essential to our ministry in the world.
The Gospel is from Matthew and tells of Jesus following the arrest of John. Jesus has just come out from the wilderness after being baptized. He thinks he has a clarity about what he is supposed to be doing but John's arrest seems to shake him to the core. He withdraws to take up residence in Capernaum. Is this an interlude that refers to his abandoning the mission and making a home far from the action of Jerusalem? Does he think he can just settle down like all his friends? It is only one paragraph but it tantalizes the imagination. But the text moves briskly from that moment - he calls disciples from their fishing to follow him and learn how to catch bigger fish - people. I always wonder what did their father think - when they dropped their nets and left him with the family business to run? Did he have other sons who could help? How do we balance the need to support and care for our personal families and the need to follow a call?
Other bits of my week were spent thinking about Judas. I played that part in a "tableau" of the Passion (judgment, crucifixion and death of Jesus). I wonder if he was chosen or volunteerd for this role rather than being the epitome of an evil person? I discovered I am not the only person to think abou this and found an article The Mystery of Judas where the author discusses other interpretations of Judas' actions. Finally, thinking about Judas - here is my favorite poem about him by Robert Buchanan. The Ballad of Judas Iscariot.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay in the Field of Blood;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Beside the body stood.
Black was the earth by night,
And black was the sky;
Black, black were the broken clouds,
Tho' the red Moon went by.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot
Strangled and dead lay there;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Look'd on it in despair.
The breath of the World came and went
Like a sick man's in rest;
Drop by drop on the World's eyes
The dews fell cool and blest.
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Did make a gentle moan --
'I will bury underneath the ground
My flesh and blood and bone.
'I will bury deep beneath the soil,
Lest mortals look thereon,
And when the wolf and raven come
The body will be gone!
'The stones of the field are sharp as steel,
And hard and cold, God wot;
And I must bear my body hence
Until I find a spot!'
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot,
So grim, and gaunt, and gray,
Raised the body of Judas Iscariot,
And carried it away.
And as he bare it from the field
Its touch was cold as ice,
And the ivory teeth within the jaw
Rattled aloud, like dice.
As the soul of Judas Iscariot
Carried its load with pain,
The Eye of Heaven, like a lanthorn's eye,
Open'd and shut again.
Half he walk'd, and half he seemed
Lifted on the cold wind;
He did not turn, for chilly hands
Were pushing from behind.
The first place that he came unto
It was the open wold,
And underneath were prickly whins,
And a wind that blew so cold.
The next place that he came unto
It was a stagnant pool,
And when he threw the body in
It floated light as wool.
He drew the body on his back,
And it was dripping chill,
And the next place be came unto
Was a Cross upon a hill.
A Cross upon the windy hill,
And a Cross on either side,
Three skeletons that swing thereon,
Who had been crucified.
And on the middle cross-bar sat
A white Dove slumbering;
Dim it sat in the dim light,
With its head beneath its wing.
And underneath the middle Cross
A grave yawn'd wide and vast,
But the soul of Judas Iscariot
Shiver'd, and glided past.
The fourth place that he came unto
It was the Brig of Dread,
And the great torrents rushing down
Were deep, and swift, and red.
He dared not fling the body in
For fear of faces dim
And arms were waved in the wild water
To thrust it back to him.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Turned from the Brig of Dread,
And the dreadful foam of the wild water
Had splashed the body red.
For days and nights he wandered on
Upon an open plain,
And the days went by like blinding mist,
And the nights like rushing rain.
For days and nights he wandered on,
All thro' the Wood of Woe;
And the nights went by like moaning wind,
And the days like drifting snow.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Came with a weary face --
Alone, alone, and all alone,
Alone in a lonely place!
He wandered east, he wandered west,
And heard no human sound;
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He wandered round and round,
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He walked the silent night;
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Perceived a far-off light.
A far-off light across the waste,
As dim as dim might be,
That came and went like the lighthouse gleam
On a black night at sea.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Crawl'd to the distant gleam;
And the rain came down, and the rain was blown
Against him with a scream.
For days and nights he wandered on,
Push'd on by hands behind;
And the days went by like black, black rain,
And the nights like rushing wind.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot,
Strange, and sad, and tall,
Stood all alone at dead of night
Before a lighted hall.
And the wold was white with snow,
And his foot-marks black and damp,
And the ghost of the silvern Moon arose,
Holding her yellow lamp.
And the icicles were on the eaves,
And the walls were deep with white,
And the shadows of the guests within
Pass'd on the window light.
The shadows of the wedding guests
Did strangely come and go,
And the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretch'd along the snow.
The body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretched along the snow;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Ran swiftly to and fro.
To and fro, and up and down,
He ran so swiftly there,
As round and round the frozen Pole
Glideth the lean white bear.
'Twas the Bridegroom sat at the table-head,
And the lights burnt bright and clear --
'Oh, who is that,' the Bridegroom said,
'Whose weary feet I hear?'
'Twas one look'd from the lighted hall,
And answered soft and slow,
'It is a wolf runs up and down
With a black track in the snow.'
The Bridegroom in his robe of white
Sat at the table-head --
'Oh, who is that who moans without?'
The blessed Bridegroom said.
'Twas one looked from the lighted hall,
And answered fierce and low,
''Tis the soul of Judas Iscariot
Gliding to and fro.'
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Did hush itself and stand,
And saw the Bridegroom at the door
With a light in his hand.
The Bridegroom stood in the open door,
And he was clad in white,
And far within the Lord's Supper
Was spread so broad and bright.
The Bridegroom shaded his eyes and look'd,
And his face was bright to see --
'What dost thou here at the Lord's Supper
With thy body's sins?' said he.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stood black, and sad, and bare --
'I have wandered many nights and days;
There is no light elsewhere.'
'Twas the wedding guests cried out within,
And their eyes were fierce and bright --
'Scourge the soul of Judas Iscariot
Away into the night!'
The Bridegroom stood in the open door,
And he waved hands still and slow,
And the third time that he waved his hands
The air was thick with snow.
And of every flake of falling snow,
Before it touched the ground,
There came a dove, and a thousand doves
Made sweet sound.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot
Floated away full fleet,
And the wings of the doves that bare it off
Were like its winding-sheet.
'Twas the Bridegroom stood at the open door,
And beckon'd, smiling sweet;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stole in, and fell at his feet.
'The Holy Supper is spread within,
And the many candles shine,
And I have waited long for thee
Before I poured the wine!'
The supper wine is poured at last,
The lights burn bright and fair,
Iscariot washes the Bridegroom's feet,
And dries them with his hair.
I am not preaching today so this is a collection of random ideas to go with the readings and other bits that washed up on my shore this week.
The psalm is a song to the delight that the creator takes in human creatures and how far from our ability to understand are the ways of creation. Reading Harvard Magazine I happened upon an article on nanotechnology. It seems that the more we discover the deeper the mysteries.
Paul's letter to the Corinthians comments on the divisions in the church. Seems like the church has never been free from controversy and division. I think we need to learn how to live with difference since this is a permanent state. The Rt. Rev. Michael Curry of North Carolina preached to this topic in his annual address to the Diocese of NC. A bishop from Africa said he did not want to visit the House of Bishops after the election of Gene Robinson in New Hampshire but the demand of the Gospel that makes Christians brothers and sisters called him to move beyond his enmity to come to listen. He still does not agree with the US church but he understands more and hopes that he is more understood. The call to sit in one another's presence, listen to one another and walk the journey together is a difficult call but essential to our ministry in the world.
The Gospel is from Matthew and tells of Jesus following the arrest of John. Jesus has just come out from the wilderness after being baptized. He thinks he has a clarity about what he is supposed to be doing but John's arrest seems to shake him to the core. He withdraws to take up residence in Capernaum. Is this an interlude that refers to his abandoning the mission and making a home far from the action of Jerusalem? Does he think he can just settle down like all his friends? It is only one paragraph but it tantalizes the imagination. But the text moves briskly from that moment - he calls disciples from their fishing to follow him and learn how to catch bigger fish - people. I always wonder what did their father think - when they dropped their nets and left him with the family business to run? Did he have other sons who could help? How do we balance the need to support and care for our personal families and the need to follow a call?
Other bits of my week were spent thinking about Judas. I played that part in a "tableau" of the Passion (judgment, crucifixion and death of Jesus). I wonder if he was chosen or volunteerd for this role rather than being the epitome of an evil person? I discovered I am not the only person to think abou this and found an article The Mystery of Judas where the author discusses other interpretations of Judas' actions. Finally, thinking about Judas - here is my favorite poem about him by Robert Buchanan. The Ballad of Judas Iscariot.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay in the Field of Blood;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Beside the body stood.
Black was the earth by night,
And black was the sky;
Black, black were the broken clouds,
Tho' the red Moon went by.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot
Strangled and dead lay there;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Look'd on it in despair.
The breath of the World came and went
Like a sick man's in rest;
Drop by drop on the World's eyes
The dews fell cool and blest.
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Did make a gentle moan --
'I will bury underneath the ground
My flesh and blood and bone.
'I will bury deep beneath the soil,
Lest mortals look thereon,
And when the wolf and raven come
The body will be gone!
'The stones of the field are sharp as steel,
And hard and cold, God wot;
And I must bear my body hence
Until I find a spot!'
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot,
So grim, and gaunt, and gray,
Raised the body of Judas Iscariot,
And carried it away.
And as he bare it from the field
Its touch was cold as ice,
And the ivory teeth within the jaw
Rattled aloud, like dice.
As the soul of Judas Iscariot
Carried its load with pain,
The Eye of Heaven, like a lanthorn's eye,
Open'd and shut again.
Half he walk'd, and half he seemed
Lifted on the cold wind;
He did not turn, for chilly hands
Were pushing from behind.
The first place that he came unto
It was the open wold,
And underneath were prickly whins,
And a wind that blew so cold.
The next place that he came unto
It was a stagnant pool,
And when he threw the body in
It floated light as wool.
He drew the body on his back,
And it was dripping chill,
And the next place be came unto
Was a Cross upon a hill.
A Cross upon the windy hill,
And a Cross on either side,
Three skeletons that swing thereon,
Who had been crucified.
And on the middle cross-bar sat
A white Dove slumbering;
Dim it sat in the dim light,
With its head beneath its wing.
And underneath the middle Cross
A grave yawn'd wide and vast,
But the soul of Judas Iscariot
Shiver'd, and glided past.
The fourth place that he came unto
It was the Brig of Dread,
And the great torrents rushing down
Were deep, and swift, and red.
He dared not fling the body in
For fear of faces dim
And arms were waved in the wild water
To thrust it back to him.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Turned from the Brig of Dread,
And the dreadful foam of the wild water
Had splashed the body red.
For days and nights he wandered on
Upon an open plain,
And the days went by like blinding mist,
And the nights like rushing rain.
For days and nights he wandered on,
All thro' the Wood of Woe;
And the nights went by like moaning wind,
And the days like drifting snow.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Came with a weary face --
Alone, alone, and all alone,
Alone in a lonely place!
He wandered east, he wandered west,
And heard no human sound;
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He wandered round and round,
For months and years, in grief and tears,
He walked the silent night;
Then the soul of Judas Iscariot
Perceived a far-off light.
A far-off light across the waste,
As dim as dim might be,
That came and went like the lighthouse gleam
On a black night at sea.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Crawl'd to the distant gleam;
And the rain came down, and the rain was blown
Against him with a scream.
For days and nights he wandered on,
Push'd on by hands behind;
And the days went by like black, black rain,
And the nights like rushing wind.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot,
Strange, and sad, and tall,
Stood all alone at dead of night
Before a lighted hall.
And the wold was white with snow,
And his foot-marks black and damp,
And the ghost of the silvern Moon arose,
Holding her yellow lamp.
And the icicles were on the eaves,
And the walls were deep with white,
And the shadows of the guests within
Pass'd on the window light.
The shadows of the wedding guests
Did strangely come and go,
And the body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretch'd along the snow.
The body of Judas Iscariot
Lay stretched along the snow;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Ran swiftly to and fro.
To and fro, and up and down,
He ran so swiftly there,
As round and round the frozen Pole
Glideth the lean white bear.
'Twas the Bridegroom sat at the table-head,
And the lights burnt bright and clear --
'Oh, who is that,' the Bridegroom said,
'Whose weary feet I hear?'
'Twas one look'd from the lighted hall,
And answered soft and slow,
'It is a wolf runs up and down
With a black track in the snow.'
The Bridegroom in his robe of white
Sat at the table-head --
'Oh, who is that who moans without?'
The blessed Bridegroom said.
'Twas one looked from the lighted hall,
And answered fierce and low,
''Tis the soul of Judas Iscariot
Gliding to and fro.'
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Did hush itself and stand,
And saw the Bridegroom at the door
With a light in his hand.
The Bridegroom stood in the open door,
And he was clad in white,
And far within the Lord's Supper
Was spread so broad and bright.
The Bridegroom shaded his eyes and look'd,
And his face was bright to see --
'What dost thou here at the Lord's Supper
With thy body's sins?' said he.
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stood black, and sad, and bare --
'I have wandered many nights and days;
There is no light elsewhere.'
'Twas the wedding guests cried out within,
And their eyes were fierce and bright --
'Scourge the soul of Judas Iscariot
Away into the night!'
The Bridegroom stood in the open door,
And he waved hands still and slow,
And the third time that he waved his hands
The air was thick with snow.
And of every flake of falling snow,
Before it touched the ground,
There came a dove, and a thousand doves
Made sweet sound.
'Twas the body of Judas Iscariot
Floated away full fleet,
And the wings of the doves that bare it off
Were like its winding-sheet.
'Twas the Bridegroom stood at the open door,
And beckon'd, smiling sweet;
'Twas the soul of Judas Iscariot
Stole in, and fell at his feet.
'The Holy Supper is spread within,
And the many candles shine,
And I have waited long for thee
Before I poured the wine!'
The supper wine is poured at last,
The lights burn bright and fair,
Iscariot washes the Bridegroom's feet,
And dries them with his hair.
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