Finished

Soul Needs: Meditating on Maundy Thursday.

Today The Three Days (Triduum) begin, usually with the Foot Washing and Eucharistic liturgy centred on what Jesus did and said at The Last Supper in that Upper Room.

Past Maundy meditations: 

Feet

Love, Wash, Eat, Drink, Remember: a Short Sermon for Maundy Thursday

Thoughts on Foot Washing

Foot washing can be a challenge for those who are not used to it—all a bit too up close and a little creepy. Eleven years ago a woman wrote me the following note after Maundy Thursday worship and her first experience of foot washing:

Lent is one of the Church seasons when I quietly reflect on Jesus’ journey to the cross and his crucifixion. Maundy Thursday seems to me to be almost as sorrowful a day as Good Friday. The foot-washing ceremony is something I never took part in. This year as Maundy Thursday approached several of my friends told me what a powerful service they thought the foot-washing was.   

After a day and night of prayer and meditation, I realized that pride had kept me from the foot washing. Because of my hammer toes and rotten looking feet, I had never wanted anyone to see them.  

At the Maundy Thursday service, I was still ambivalent about having my feet washed. Images of Jesus washing his disciples feet flooded my thoughts and I said to myself, “Do it.”   

As my feet were being washed, a feeling of great humility came over me. As they were being dried, I felt a great desire to wash another’s feet. While doing so, I was filled with ecstasy and great emotion. I felt myself to be in a more spiritual realm. My soul was filled with wonderment and love. I was at the foot of the cross; a more fervent believer than ever before. 

Why was this experience so powerfully moving for this dear saint? When words aren’t enough, we perform rituals. A good ritual says something more than mere words can say. That’s what rituals are for. So we take a tuna casserole over when someone has had a loved one die. We give an aching spouse a back-rub. And we wash feet. Not because the feet need cleaning, but because our souls do. And we go the altar to eat little wafers and take tiny sips of wine, not because our bodies need them for sustenance, but because our souls do.

Thoughts Arising and Having Arisen on Spy Wednesday in Holy Week

Today is Anthony, our son's birthday. April Fool's Day. Foolish, more and more seem to think, to assume the risk of marriage and parenthood in this, or any, day and age when life can seem precarious. Yet I'm very glad we did—for the joy of it.

I am also glad God was "foolish" (1 Cor 1.18-25) enough to do what we remember and celebrate each Holy Week. There was risk, inconvenience, sacrifice and suffering in it, too.

Some ponderings on the subject from Wednesdays past:

Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Wednesday

A Wee Puff of Witnesses: Laying Weights Aside and Running with Endurance—a Wednesday in Holy Week Sermon with Reference to Hebrews 12.1-3

Sunday's coming.

Tuesday in Holy Week

Something the StB Altar Guild women put together caught my eye in my Holy Week water-colouring. Thought here: Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Tuesday

And a reminder that we are called in Holy Week to be who we are in Jesus, to do what we are called to do—not to be successful—but to give God pleasure: Our Calling: a Tuesday in Holy Week Sermon with Reference to 1 Cor 1.26-28, Oswald Chambers, Eugene Peterson and Jeremiah

Past Posts on Monday in Holy Week

Here we are again. The big week and Holy. Some Monday in Holy week pondering:

A Monday in Holy Week Sermon: A Bloody Religion: Heb 9.14

Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Monday

Thoughts on a Monday in Holy Week

On Being April Fools in Holy Week

April Fool’s Day falls in Holy Week this year. Next Wednesday. The day before the great Triduum of the church year—The Three Days—which begin with the evening Foot Washing and Eucharist on Maundy Thursday, through Good Friday, Holy Saturday and to Evening Prayer on Easter Sunday. It’s the pinnacle of the church year when Advent’s hope and expectation, Christmas’ wonders, Epiphany’s lights, Lenten and Holy Week sombreness finally deliver us, amazed, relieved and joyful, to the Resurrected Jesus Christ.

That April Fool’s Day is the day before is fitting because the word of the cross can, indeed, seem to be folly in so many ways, foolish and something to stumble over (1 Corinthians 1.18-25). Rotten, tragic, undeserved things continue to happen to people. God can seem so silent. Many of my prayers don’t seem to be answered in any way I can perceive.

And yet. Easter comes.

April Fool’s Day fell on Good Friday in 1988. A week before that my mother was healed of arthritis. It happened when I, a relatively new Christian and Anglican at the time, wrote a letter to my father, a Presbyterian, suggesting that he have the Anglican Vicar in the town in which Mum’s hospital was, go and pray for her. Not long afterwards I received a letter from my mother:

…the Vicar of Rotorua came the Friday before Good Friday about tea time on what had been one of my worst days. That morning I hadn’t been able to move without assistance—something I had feared so I was at an absolute low. He came and wheeled me down to our quiet room here at Queen Elizabeth and there in that lovely peaceful place he anointed me and after having had a short and moving little service with me reading the responses. I can’t describe the wonderful feeling of certainty and peace and knowing God’s presence. That feeling stayed with me for days—I slept that night as I hadn’t done for ages and the next morning I woke feeling so much better and since then I have had a steady improvement—so much so that I go home this Friday. I still have difficulty walking and will need a wheel chair for a while but I do better every day—and “I FEEL GOOD”—praise God. The aches and pains are under control—I’m so happy.

My mother was not an Anglican. The “little service” would have been strange to her. She was not healed completely, some pain and mobility issues continued, but she was healed enough so that she was soon playing the organ again at church and was able to dance at my brother’s wedding in 1989. It’s easy to think it foolish to expect such a healing at all, let alone when strangers are involved across denominations and so many miles. We all shared her happiness. We were amazed, relieved and joyful. It also happened to be the year my family and I went off to seminary.

And yet. Easter comes.

On Doing Holy Week Anglicanly: More on Retirement and Things I Would or Would Not Do Differently

The best Easters I’ve experienced have always followed a fully observed Holy Week. Palm Sunday, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday in Holy Week, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and The Great Vigil of Easter on Holy Saturday. I’m usually thoroughly weary by Easter Sunday morning, but does it ever light up. Taking the time to follow Jesus on his journey through that last week makes it real and rich. We don’t even do anything particularly creative. Just the liturgies as they appear in The Book of Alternative Services straight up and unadorned. It just works.

Lately, we’ve not observed the Mondays, Tuesdays and Wednesdays. When we did—and they helped deliver the best Easters—we would do an early morning Eucharist on Monday with Evening Prayer and even Compline some years, followed by Morning Prayer on Tuesday morning, a Eucharist at noon and Evening Prayer, and then Morning Prayer and a Eucharist around supper time on Wednesday. We did it that way so as many people as possible could experience as many liturgies as possible. It was rich.

Maundy Thursday has always included foot washing exactly as laid out in the book. I’ve never organized anyone to come to have their feet washed before hand. Some always come. We’ve also provided a couple of stations for people to wash one another’s feet. It is so moving to see grandchildren washing their grandmother’s feet and vice versa—wives and husbands, friends. We acknowledge this day is so named because of Jesus’ new commandment (latin: maundate) to love one another. We give thanks for the institution of the Eucharist. Afterwards, the altar is stripped and all the decorations and colour are removed as the lights are extinguished. We depart in silence. It never fails to move me.

Medicine Hat Good Friday’s have always begun for me with the Evangelical Association service in the morning—an extroverted, high energy affair with close to two thousand souls present every year. To miss that out of Anglican liturgical sensitivity would be wrong, especially when I know I can also indulge my Anglican quietism in an hour of silent meditation on The Stations of the Cross in the church in the afternoon before The Celebration of the Lord’s Passion—again, straight out of the book. It’s quiet, holy and lovely.

And then The Great Vigil of Easter on Saturday. We do it at sundown. This year that means 822pm. We light the new fire, process into the darkened church behind the Pascal Candle. Candles are lit and the Exultet is sung as the church is redecorated with hangings and Easter lilies. We listen to lots of Scripture (thirteen readings!) telling the story of our Salvation, we baptize people or re-affirm our baptismal vows and we celebrate the Eucharist. Sometimes we roast marshmallows over a re-kindled new fire out behind the hall afterwards. It’s wonderful.

Finally, it’s Easter morning. Jesus Christ is risen today! Lively. Joyful. All the more luminous because of the quiet, darker days before.

I’m a soon to be retired Anglican priest and I’m okay.

The Triduum—The Great Three Days at StB

This evening, the Triduum, or the The Great Three Days, the heart of the Church's liturgical year, begins with the Maundy Thursday liturgy.

"Maundy," the unusual adjective descriptive of this day, comes from the Latin mandatum, meaning "commandment," because this is the day on which the Lord gave the "new commandment" that we are to love one another. On this day He exemplified this love by washing the disciples' feet and also instituted the Lord's Supper, in which all of us who share the one bread are made one body in Christ. (Patrick Henry Reardon. Spring 2013 - The Daily Devotional Guide by Patrick Henry, The Fellowship of St. James)

So, our liturgy this evening (at 7pm) will include all those things: the new commandment, the foot washing and the Lord's Supper.

Foot Washing

Foot washing can be a challenge for those who are not used to it—all a bit too up close and a little creepy. Eleven years ago a woman wrote me the following note after Maundy Thursday worship and her first experience of foot washing:

Lent is one of the Church seasons when I quietly reflect on Jesus’ journey to the cross and his crucifixion. Maundy Thursday seems to me to be almost as sorrowful a day as Good Friday. The foot-washing ceremony is something I never took part in. This year as Maundy Thursday approached several of my friends told me what a powerful service they thought the foot-washing was.  

After a day and night of prayer and meditation, I realized that pride had kept me from the foot washing. Because of my hammer toes and rotten looking feet, I had never wanted anyone to see them. 

At the Maundy Thursday service, I was still ambivalent about having my feet washed. Images of Jesus washing his disciples feet flooded my thoughts and I said to myself, “Do it.”  

As my feet were being washed, a feeling of great humility came over me. As they were being dried, I felt a great desire to wash another’s feet. While doing so, I was filled with ecstasy and great emotion. I felt myself to be in a more spiritual realm. My soul was filled with wonderment and love. I was at the foot of the cross; a more fervent believer than ever before. 

Why was this experience so powerfully moving for this dear saint? When words aren’t enough, we perform rituals. A good ritual says something more than mere words can say. That’s what rituals are for. So we take a tuna casserole over when someone has had a loved one die. We give an aching spouse a back-rub. And we wash feet. Not because the feet need cleaning, but because our souls do. And we go the altar to eat little wafers and take tiny sips of wine, not because our bodies need them for sustenance, but because our souls do.

Nonetheless—All may, none must, some should.

Prayer Vigil

After our Maundy Thursday service this evening:
Following an ancient tradition, there will be an opportunity to watch for one hour in prayer as Jesus did at Gethsemane before the crowd came to arrest him.

A Maundy Manifesto

This sums it all up for today:
Love one another.
Wash one another’s feet (it's about holiness, not hygiene).
Eat the bread.
Drink the wine.
In remembrance of him.
Remember that.

Day Two and Three

The Triduum continues at StB with:
Good Friday
2pm: silent meditation around the Stations of the Cross
3pm: The Celebration of the Lord's Passion

It ends at StB with:
Holy Saturday
The Great Vigil of Easter as the sun goes down at 752pm.

Love, Wash, Eat, Drink, Remember: a Short Sermon for Maundy Thursday

The word “Maundy” comes from the Latin mandatum which means command.

John 13:34 A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. 35 By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” 

Today, we remember two ways in which Jesus exemplified that mandatum, that command.

First, he washed his disciples’ feet. Stunning. Barely comprehensible—for Peter, especially. Jesus knew it.

John 13:7 …“What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” 

Do we understand what exactly is going on? Not entirely. If we did the church would be full tonight and every Sunday. But we can choose to remember it and do what he says anyway.

 John 13:14 “If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.” 

We can do it literally. Tonight. We can do it figuratively as we serve one another with great generosity. 

Second, Jesus sets up a memorial for us. Paul describes it.

1 Corinthians 11:23 “For I received from the Lord what I also delivered to you, that the Lord Jesus on the night when he was betrayed took bread, 24 and when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, “This is my body which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.” 25 In the same way also he took the cup, after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.” 

Jesus said, “In remembrance of me.” Another memorial like the one Moses set up for the Passover in Exodus. We keep it as a feast to the LORD Jesus. Throughout our generations. Forever. Sunday by Sunday, Maundy Thursday by Maundy Thursday. To remember him.

Love one another. Wash one another’s feet. Eat the bread. Drink the wine. In remembrance of him. Remember that.

Thoughts on a Monday in Holy Week

Today Jesus clears the temple and curses the fig tree.

Jesus said,

Truly, I say to you, if you have faith and do not doubt, you will not only do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, 'Be taken up and thrown into the sea,' it will happen. And whatever your ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith.

I wouldn't mind just getting to the fig tree level, let alone the mountain throwing. LORD, help me get from here to there.

Yesterday, the Passion story reminded me of Jesus' kingship. Today, in one of the readings in my excellent St James Daily Devotional Guide, as King David was leaving Jerusalem because of his son Absolom's rebellion, Ittai, a foreigner, makes a statement of loyalty to David:

As the LORD lives, and as my lord the king lives, wherever my lord the king shall be, whether for death or for life, there also will your servant be. (2 Sam 15.21)

My LORD, King Jesus also lives. My I also be wherever He is whether for death or for life.

Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Good Friday

Finished.

Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Wednesday

Isaiah 63...from which a canticle was fashioned in Celebrating Common Prayer for Passiontide.

I thought of Jesus; splendid in crimsoned apparel, dying in the greatness of his strength, mighty to save.

Not treading the winepress in wrath, but because of it.

Lifeblood spatters and stains and we are born again.

Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Tuesday

Today's image is from the Stations of the Cross...the Women of Jerusalem. I know it's a bit early in the timeline for the week, but it was the thing that drew me today.

I love the way the Altar Guild women do this one with flowers and pearls and a lace table-cloth. In the past they've included a china tea-cup and saucer and a lace handkerchief. I find the femininity of it very moving every year.

This little display also reminds me of a scene from the novel, Christie, in which a woman places one of her aprons in her husband's coffin just before he is buried. I don't know I find that act so moving, but I do.

It was the women who prepared Jesus' body for burial and were there first thing on resurrection morning to finish the job. God bless 'em.

Holy Week Watercolour from the Word: Monday

Okay, so this is a straight swipe of an idea I discovered over at soupablog where there is this wonderful lentenblog thing going on using a Moleskine sketchbook (if you've never heard of them, check them out here and there). Even though I do not possess a Moleskine, I thought I'd try some sketching and thoughts for Holy Week anyway.

I did the sketch above during our Lenten Stillness hour...the church is open from noon to 1pm for prayer and meditation. That's the pulpit from which I'm priviledged to preach. Yes, I still use it because it gives the preaching a sense of occasion. The cross is there ready for the Triduum.

The verses that have "rung" for me so far today are those above...Psalm 130.5 on the left and Isaiah 49.4 on the right. The Isaiah verse challenges me because, if I'm honest, I'm uncomfortably aware that much of what I do is done out of vanity (and therefore for nothing). Yet, I know I am loved, that the verse on the left is also true for me, so any right and recompense there is for me, is with the LORD my God...and just as well.

The other verse that "went off" for me this morning is Zechariah 10.2...

For the household gods utter nonsense,
and the diviners see lies;
they tell false dreams
and give empty consolation.
Therefore the people wander like sheep;
they are afflicted for lack of a shepherd.

There are leaders in our church who are uttering nonsense, seeing lies, telling false dreams and giving empty consolation to people struggling with the household and other gods of this age. Therefore Anglicans wander and are afflicted for lack of courageous shepherding by leaders who are prepared to lovingly resist the spirit of the age.

Good Friday Pointed Bits

In BONFIRE OF THE SACRISTIES: TO THE 2006 GENERAL CONVENTION, a rather lengthy, but excellent piece on the declining state of the Episcopal Church of the USA, Allen C. Guelzo, Henry R. Luce Professor of the Civil War Era and professor of history at Gettysburg College writes:

We worship in a structured, liturgical fashion, while all around us, our culture celebrates informality, relaxation and spontaneity. We insist on defining the "marks" of the Church as oneness, holiness, and catholicity; the rest of American religion defines them (as Duane Arnold and George Fry have wryly suggested) as "upbeat music, adequate parking, a warm welcome, and a dynamic sermon."

Go there.

We Canadian Anglicans share the problem of declining numbers in our churches. Anthony, my son, has been reading Dutch Sheets on new-wine and the kind of wine-skins that can hold it:

As member of an Anglican church I often think about the importance of tradition in our forms of worship. I can see richness in this tradition which I think is good. Sometimes though I think I see more of an inability to be flexible and up with the times. I see people gripping “the ways it’s been” so hard that they become convinced that they are gripping God himself when they are clearly not.

Go there.

Ruth Gledhill keeps popping up in my exploriblogging. She writes for The Times. Here she reports on prayers for the Stations of the Cross at the Vatican:

At the Third Station of the Cross, where Jesus falls for the first time, Archbishop Comastri has written: “Lord, we have lost our sense of sin. Today a slick campaign of propaganda is spreading an inane apologia of evil, a senseless cult of Satan, a mindless desire for transgression, a dishonest and frivolous freedom, exalting impulsiveness, immorality and selfishness as if they were new heights of sophistication.”

At the Fourth Station, where Jesus is helped by Simon the Cyrene to carry the cross, Pope Benedict and his followers will pray: “Lord Jesus, our affluence is making us less human, our entertainment has become a drug, a source of alienation, and our society’s incessant, tedious message is an invitation to die of selfishness.”

One of the strongest meditations warns against the attack on the family. “Today we seem to be witnessing a kind of anti-Genesis, a counter-plan, a diabolical pride aimed at eliminating the family.”

There is a moving meditation for the Eighth Station, where Jesus meets the women of Jerusalem, describing the “River of tears shed by mothers, mothers of the crucified, mothers of murderers, mothers of drug addicts, mothers of terrorists, mothers of rapists, mothers of psychopaths, but mothers all the same”.

Now there is an example of fearless, counter-cultural, Christian leadership. Lord, have mercy on us all.

Feet

I love being an Anglican at this time of year.

Last night I washed several pairs of feet; smooth and rough, big and small, young and old; and my own were washed, too.

The Maundy Thurdsday foot washing, Eucharist and stripping of the altar in preparation for today never fails to move me. We don't jazz it up in any way. We just follow the bare liturgy as it is laid out and the LORD meets us there.

I find it profoundly humbling to wash someone else's feet. It is also a joy and a priviledge, especially on those occasions when I hear that this is the first time someone has been able to come forward. There is something almost fearfully intimate in offering our feet, a part of our bodies we often consider to be the least attractive, odd, even ugly, for someone else to touch. But people do, often overcoming great fear, or even shame, to step forward. It's amazing.

I also never fail to be moved when I see members of the congregation washing each others' feet. Husbands washing their wive's; grandchildren, their grandparent's; friends, friends; It's wonderful to see.

A Wee Puff of Witnesses, Laying Weights Aside and Running with Endurance: a Wednesday in Holy Week Sermon with Reference to Hebrews 12.1-3

Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses...

I can see no great cloud of witnesses. I only see you few and I’m glad of that. I do enjoy being here with you. What are we if not a great cloud? A wee puff of witnesses.

Does it mean the great cloud does not exist because I can’t see them? Of course not. I’ve not seen anyone literally raised from the dead (yet), but I believe that it happened and still does.

We may be a wee puff, but we are not alone and when added to all the other puffs throughout history and all over the planet. We are part of a very great cloud. So…

...let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely...

What weights must we lay aside? Two things come to mind this morning: first, our emotional vulnerability. The struggle with depression and poor self-esteem is epidemic in our age. The feelings are real, but they are not trustworthy. With the help of Jesus, bit by bit, tear by tear, stumbling prayer by stumbling prayer, reclamation-of-a-piece-of-the-joy-of-our-salvation by reclamation-of-a-piece-of-the-joy-of-our-salvation, we must work to lay them aside.

Second: we labour under a huge weight of prosperity and comfort which presses us down and away from spiritual heights where the winds of God blow. We must, bit by bit, one-percentage-point-towards-the-tithe by one-percentage-point-towards-the-tithe, offering by offering, blessing by blessing, secret-sacrificial-act-of-kindness by secret-sacrificial-act-of-kindness, work to lay that weight aside.

And the sin which clings so closely? We drench it liberally with the anti-static spray of confession, repentance and forgiveness.

...and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith...

How do we run with endurance?

We train. The Holy Lent interval Training program of self-examination, repentance, prayer, fasting, self-denial and reading and meditation on God’s Holy Word is ideal all year round.

We pace ourselves: work, spiritual disciplines, rest and play.
Do we need help with our faith? We all do. Where do we find it? We look to Jesus who will perfect it—bit by bit as we lay aside the things that hinder, and run with endurance and look to Him…

...who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God...

And we…

...Consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that we may not grow weary or fainthearted.

Our Calling: a Tuesday in Holy Week Sermon with Reference to 1 Cor 1.26-28, Oswald Chambers, Eugene Peterson and Jeremiah

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are. (1 Cor 1.26-28 ESV)

Some thoughts on calling: what is our calling considering that not many of us are wise, or powerful, or of noble birth either? What is our calling despite our foolishness, weakness and lowliness? What is our calling by which God will bring to nothing things that are?

First, know that we are all called to something; since before we were born, by name, just as Jeremiah was.

But “A sense of call in our time is profoundly countercultural” writes Biblical scholar, Walter Bruegemmann. We often avoid it.

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest:

It is easier to serve God without a vision, easier to work for God without a call, because then you are not bothered by what God requires; common sense is your guide, veneered over with Christian sentiment. You will be more prosperous and successful, more leisure-hearted, if you never realize the call of God.

Eugene Peterson puts it this way in his Run with the Horses, (IVP, 1983):

We are practiced in pleading inadequacy in order to avoid living at the best that God calls us to. How tired the excuses sound! I am only a youth; I am only a housewife . . . (p48)

Even Jeremiah tried that. “I am only a boy,” he said. But, in his inimitable style, Peterson gives us the essence of God’s response to that excuse

Life is difficult, Jeremiah. Are you going to quit at the first wave of opposition? Are you going to retreat when you find that there is more to life than finding three meals a day and a dry place to sleep at night? Are you going to run home the minute you find that the mass of men and women are more interested in keeping their feet warm than living at risk to the glory of God? Are you going to live cautiously or courageously? I called you to live at your best, to pursue righteousness, to sustain a drive toward excellence. It is easier, I know, to be neurotic. It is easier to be parasitic. It is easier to relax in the embracing arms of The Average. Easier, but not better. Easier, but not more significant. Easier, but not more fulfilling. I called you to a life of purpose far beyond what you think yourself capable of living and promised you adequate strength to fulfill your destiny. Now at the first sign of difficulty you are ready to quit. If you are fatigued by this run-of-the-mill crowd of apathetic mediocrities, what will you do when the real race starts, the race with the swift and determined horses of excellence? What is it you really want, Jeremiah, do you want to shuffle along with this crowd, or run with the horses? (pp17-18)

In Jesus, God calls us to risk, courage, our best, righteousness, excellence, fulfillment, purpose far beyond what we think ourselves capable. We are not inadequate.

There is a difference between what we think we could do or can do—what we think we’re good at—and what we might be called to do.

Calling is not just “full-time church ministry.” Being a risk-taking, excellent wife or husband is a calling. So is being a mother or father. Being a nurse, a bus-driver, a realtor is a calling.
What are we called for?

Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest again:

I am called to live in perfect relation to God so that my life produces a longing after God in other lives, not admiration for myself.

What are we being called to?

ArchBishop Curtis of Calgary in an address at a Clergy Retreat:

One of the distinctive features of the Christian life is the call to community — relationship with God and one another. Because we are called to live in personal relationship with Jesus, we are also called to live in personal relationship with the company of Jesus.

Why are we called?

Timothy Sherman, a wild-eyed prophetic type, speaking at workshop in Calgary:

My first calling is not to be a successful pastor, it is to give God pleasure.

So it us for us…we are called this Holy Week to be who we are in Jesus, to do what we are called to do, not to be successful, but to give God pleasure.

A Monday in Holy Week Sermon: A Bloody Religion: Heb 9.14

How much more will the blood of Christ, who through the eternal Spirit offered himself without blemish to God, purify our conscience from dead works to serve the living God. (Heb 9.14 ESV)

The blood of Christ. Ours is a bloody faith. This week attests to that.

Kathleen Norris, in Amazing Grace: A Vocabulary of Faith (New York: Riverhead Books, 1998), quotes Rubén Martínez who

cheerfully describes himself as ‘not just a cultural Catholic, mind you, but a flesh-eating, blood-drinking practitioner of the faith.’ (pp113-114)

And so are we. We’re here to drink blood as practitioners of the faith this evening. We’re here to remember and to receive the benefits of a bloody transaction on a cross.

I have to confess to a certain squeamishness about blood. I am insulated from it. Protected. First thoughts are negative—mess, danger, death. I remember visiting Head Smashed In Buffalo Jump and imagining the bloody scene as the animals were being slaughtered—awful word—butchered—no better (but better than our euphemistic “processed” or “packed”). I also remember thinking of how it must have been a scene of absolute joy because the people got to eat and live!

Blood shed for us can be life-giving. And if that blood was life-giving for another month or year, how much more will the blood of Christ be for us—for eternity.

Jesus in John 6:53-55—Truly, truly, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life, and I will raise him up on the last day. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him.

Paul in Romans 5:9—we have now been justified by his blood.

In 1 Corinthians 10:16—The cup of blessing that we bless, is it not a participation in the blood of Christ?

In Ephesians 1:7—We have redemption through his blood.

And Ephesians 2:13—you who once were far off have been brought near by the blood of Christ.

Colossians 1:20—making peace with us by the blood of his cross.

John in 1 John 1:7—the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.

Peter in 1 Peter 1:19 refers to the blood of Jesus as “precious.”
Ours is a bloody religion.

For us practitioners of the Christian faith this blood is precious, indeed. It is life-giving. It is life-blood.