2021 LENTEN MEDITATIONS
Holy Week | Sunday, March 28 - Saturday, April 3
Sunday, March 28 | Palm Sunday
A Prayer for Episcopal Relief & Development Loving and merciful God, you bestow your grace on all of your children: Remember our sisters and brothers here and throughout the world who, in partnership with Episcopal Relief & Development, strengthen communities, empower those in poverty, nourish those who are hungry, heal those who are sick and uplift those affected by disaster; so that your Kingdom might be known to all people; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. |
Monday, March 29
“It is in community that we can discover God most profoundly, even when community is a headache, which it often can be, but the truth is that we actually need each other. We are at our best when we come together.” —Presiding Bishop Michael Bruce Curry Nicholas Black Elk, a Medicine Man, Christian and Prophet, had a vision in which he saw a time of transformation and a time of togetherness. In his vision, he saw hoops of each nation, Tribe, and people, dancing together as one large hoop around the healing tree—or tree of life. Black Elk’s vision reminds us that we are called to live in right-relationship to one another. In times of great destruction and sorrow, we remember our prophets. We come back to our sacred traditions. We are called back to that deep relationship we need to have with one another, recognizing one another as relatives, as sacred and as beloved. Repentance, like love, is an action word. It is not meant to be something we simply say. It is meant to be something that we do, that we live, that we embody. That lived, embodied action of being a good relative, that journey toward right-relationship, is recompense. Ask yourself, “What kind of relative am I called to be?” Then live your life, journeying toward being that kind of relative—and not just to those we see as we go about our lives but also to those relatives who live, talk, think, vote, pray and love differently than we do. —Isaiah “Shaneequa” Brokenleg |
Tuesday, March 30
I had reasoned this out in my mind; there was one of two things I had a right to, liberty or death; if I could not have one, I would have the other. —Harriet Tubman to Sarah Bradford Harriet, The Moses of Her People How can we make right what we have participated in making wrong? How can we make amends for being participants in causing loss and suffering? How can we commit to rebuilding what we have contributed to demolishing? How can we get out of the way so those who have always been in the background, behind us, can take the lead? How can we soften our hearts to realize if one of us is not thriving, none of us are? We don’t have to figure this out on our own nor do we have to do it alone. As Christians, we have the example of Jesus and saints like Monseñor Oscar Romero and Harriet Tubman to guide us and encourage us. Jesus, in the Bible stories, was always healing or listening or giving words of encouragement and peace. He built people up and commanded them to love God, love themselves and love others. Monseñor Romero, who also gave his life for the people, spoke with authenticity and conviction; he expressed himself honestly about the realities he not only preached about but lived. Harriet Tubman’s life shows us that, when we reach freedom, we must help others reach that freedom because there is enough of it for all of us. —Sandra T. Montes |
Wednesday, March 31
Whatever your task, put yourselves into it, as done for the Lord and not for your masters, since you know that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward; you serve the Lord Christ. —Colossians 3:23-24 During my time in college, I worked at the University Children Center. One child filled my heart with joy because she was always so kind and attentive to her classmates. During clean up time at the end of the day, she would always rush to clean her space to have the time to help her friends. Then, she would run up to me and ask, “What else can I do, Ms. Sandy?” And as I now read the news and scroll through videos on social media, I wonder why aren’t those that can, and should, running to ask what they can do to help clean up the stains of oppression and ignorance that are getting harder and harder to remove from the fabric of our society? We should aspire to be like this child, who saw a need and was eager to do more out of love, not wait or want anything in return. Just the joy of being a source of kindness was enough for her. There is a lot of need around us, and we are called to put ourselves into the task of fulfilling God’s dream on earth with determination, excitement and in community. —Sandy Milien |
Maundy Thursday, April 1
Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me. —Matthew 25:40 In the fourth century, John Chrysostom preached an extraordinary homily connecting the worship of Christ’s body in the eucharist to the care and concern we extend to “the least of these” in society. In his homily, he was invoking what he considered “the sweetest passage” of Matthew 25:40, a passage that is the mandate of Episcopal Relief & Development. There Jesus states, “Truly, I tell you just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.” Chrysostom’s homily calls out Christian hypocrisy. Standing beneath the gilded dome of Antioch’s Great Church, in a sanctuary filled with polished marble, brass, gold and precious stones, he asked: “For what is the profit when his table is full of golden cups but he perishes with hunger? First, fill him and then deck out his table also. Why offer him a cup of gold while denying him a cup of cold water? Would you furnish his table with cloths of gold, while to himself, you afford not even a basic covering?” This is an invitation for Christians to reevaluate our priorities. Chrysostom believed that profound worship occurs when we see Christ in the “least of these” and feed the hungry, give a cup of water to the thirsty, welcome the stranger and visit prisoners. Worship and care for the most vulnerable are profoundly linked. Let us recommit to living this out every day. —Miguel Angel Escobar |
Good Friday, April 2
Therefore, my friends... we have confidence to enter the sanctuary by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain (that is, through his flesh). —Hebrews 10:19-20 The youth group at Iglesia San Andrés in Santo Domingo (Dominican Republic) was going to reenact the Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the congregation was about to move from the chapel to the auditorium. I was a 3-year-old girl, holding my mother’s hand, when all of a sudden I found myself face-to-face with that man covered in “blood,” crowned with “thorns,” carrying a cross so heavy that it bent his body forward. His face was in my line of sight. My mother moved me to the side so that Jesus could lead the procession, but I burst into tears and shouted, “No, Mommy, no!” My mother explained that it was just a play, and we entered the auditorium to see the rest of the Passion. I calmed down in her arms until the moment when the same man was being “nailed” to the cross. My mother had to take me out of the room before the end. I could not understand that it was a reenactment of a true story—it seemed all too real to me. Every year on Good Friday, I remember that man who looked at me tenderly in the midst of his agony. That is the day when I began my story with the real Jesus. I invite you to think of moments that highlight your own story with the Savior. In the midst of pain, joy, daily struggles and uncertainties, can you recognize him next to you? This is a good time for us to consider how to respond to the greatest act of love ever carried out for humankind and for you. It’s true—you and Jesus have a story together. —Patricia Martin |
Holy Saturday, April 3
In beauty may I walk, all day long may I walk. Through returning
seasons may I walk. On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk. With dew about
my feet may I walk. With beauty may I walk. With beauty before
me, may I walk. With beauty behind me, may I walk. With beauty
above me, may I walk. With beauty below me, may I walk. With
beauty all around me, may I walk. In old age wandering on a trail
of beauty may I walk, lively, may I walk. It is finished in beauty. It
is finished in beauty.
—Walk in Beauty, closing prayer from
the Navajo Blessing Way Ceremony
Listen to the voice of Divine Creator on the walk. Imagine your
walk in these words. Where do you feel humility and peace?
Where on this spiritual walk in the beauty way do you see beauty?
The Navajo beauty prayer takes us on a journey in seasons of life.
Each pause, each step is a prayer. Every new step is a beginning
as the Holy Spirit prays with us. The Navajo prayer invites us
into ceremony with the Divine to restore our holistic self with
creation. On the trail of the beauty prayer, we are invited to listen
carefully to places where we need healing. We listen, we pray and
we bless our sacred being with the healing medicines of Mother
Earth’s nutrients. This, too, is ceremony where God loves us as
we are. God’s divine creation knows us, too, and shows us how
God’s transforming power restores our very soul. It is how God
makes us whole.
—Cornelia Eaton
In beauty may I walk, all day long may I walk. Through returning
seasons may I walk. On the trail marked with pollen may I walk.
With grasshoppers about my feet may I walk. With dew about
my feet may I walk. With beauty may I walk. With beauty before
me, may I walk. With beauty behind me, may I walk. With beauty
above me, may I walk. With beauty below me, may I walk. With
beauty all around me, may I walk. In old age wandering on a trail
of beauty may I walk, lively, may I walk. It is finished in beauty. It
is finished in beauty.
—Walk in Beauty, closing prayer from
the Navajo Blessing Way Ceremony
Listen to the voice of Divine Creator on the walk. Imagine your
walk in these words. Where do you feel humility and peace?
Where on this spiritual walk in the beauty way do you see beauty?
The Navajo beauty prayer takes us on a journey in seasons of life.
Each pause, each step is a prayer. Every new step is a beginning
as the Holy Spirit prays with us. The Navajo prayer invites us
into ceremony with the Divine to restore our holistic self with
creation. On the trail of the beauty prayer, we are invited to listen
carefully to places where we need healing. We listen, we pray and
we bless our sacred being with the healing medicines of Mother
Earth’s nutrients. This, too, is ceremony where God loves us as
we are. God’s divine creation knows us, too, and shows us how
God’s transforming power restores our very soul. It is how God
makes us whole.
—Cornelia Eaton