Dear friends,
It is a strange thing–after 18 years of parish ministry–to not be leading a community through Holy Week this year. I did, however, have the opportunity to preach during chapel at Wartburg Seminary yesterday. I offered what was given to me, by the Holy Spirit, in the midst of these strange days filled with both grief and gratitude. I offer it here to you.
Hebrews 12:1-3
1Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, 2looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God.
3Consider him who endured such hostility against himself from sinners, so that you may not grow weary or lose heart.
Psalm 70
Be pleased, O God, to deliver me; O Lord, make haste to help me.
Let those who seek my life be put to shame and confounded; let those who take pleasure in my misfortune draw back and be disgraced.
Let those who say to me “Aha!” and gloat over me turn back because of their shame.
Let all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; let those who love your salvation say forever, “Great is the Lord!”
But as for me, I am poor and needy; come to me quickly, O God. You are my helper and my deliverer; O Lord, do not tarry.
John 13:21-32
21After saying this Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” 22The disciples looked at one another, uncertain of whom he was speaking. 23One of his disciples — the one whom Jesus loved — was reclining next to him; 24Simon Peter therefore motioned to him to ask Jesus of whom he was speaking. 25So while reclining next to Jesus, he asked him, “Lord, who is it?” 26Jesus answered, “It is the one to whom I give this piece of bread when I have dipped it in the dish.” So when he had dipped the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas son of Simon Iscariot. 27After he received the piece of bread, Satan entered into him. Jesus said to him, “Do quickly what you are going to do.” 28Now no one at the table knew why he said this to him. 29Some thought that, because Judas had the common purse, Jesus was telling him, “Buy what we need for the festival”; or, that he should give something to the poor. 30So, after receiving the piece of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.
31When he had gone out, Jesus said, “Now the Son of Man has been glorified, and God has been glorified in him. 32If God has been glorified in him, God will also glorify him in himself and will glorify him at once.
There’s something in me that experiences Holy Week as a poem–terse, provocative lines unfolding into a greater whole, every word pregnant with meaning, all of it almost too much to bear were it not for the freedom and the structure of the Word.
When “Poetry Unbound” began in January 2020, the first poem host Pádraig Ó Tuama shared with his listeners was this one, by Brad Aaron Modlin: “What You Missed That Day You Were Absent from Fourth Grade.”
“Mrs. Nelson explained how to stand still and listen
to the wind, how to find meaning in pumping gas,
how peeling potatoes can be a form of prayer. She took
questions on how not to feel lost in the dark.
After lunch she distributed worksheets
that covered ways to remember your grandfather’s
voice. Then the class discussed falling asleep
without feeling you had forgotten to do something else—
something important—and how to believe
the house you wake in is your home. This prompted
Mrs. Nelson to draw a chalkboard diagram detailing
how to chant the Psalms during cigarette breaks,
and how not to squirm for sound when your own thoughts
are all you hear; also, that you have enough.
The English lesson was that I am
is a complete sentence.
And just before the afternoon bell, she made the math equation
look easy. The one that proves that hundreds of questions,
and feeling cold, and all those nights spent looking
for whatever it was you lost, and one person
add up to something.”
Can you fall asleep, in this Holy Week, without feeling you’ve forgotten to do something else, something important?
Are you still trying to believe that the house you wake in is your home? That you belong? That there is a place for you here?
Are you looking for the chalkboard diagram that will teach you, finally, that you have enough?
It all adds up to something, in this Holy Week, hundreds of questions, and feeling uncertain, and all those nights spent looking for the lost…
…one last meal, and a troubled spirit, and bread heavy with wine…
…a plan, a peace, a common purse…
…a hundred questions more…
Sin that clings so closely, shame and need, body and blood, a race to run…
…and all those nights spent praying for whatever it was you thought you lost…
…only to find that great cloud of witnesses…
Your grandfather’s voice loud and strong, Mary’s poetry and Miriam’s song, and one—fully human and fully divine, pioneer and perfecter of our faith—person.
It all adds up to Jesus. It all adds up to joy.
For the sake of joy, Jesus enters fully into this human classroom, stands still and listens, remembers his Abba’s voice naming him Beloved.
For the sake of joy, Jesus declares “I am” the good shepherd, the true vine, the way, the life,
“I am.”
For the sake of joy, Jesus persists, prays, weeps at the death of his friend, goes ahead, endures the cross, and disregards its shame to regard us instead…
…to regard all creation instead, to regard this world with mercy and sure and certain love.
Consider Jesus, beloved. Regard him, so that you may not lose heart.
Hundreds of questions, and feeling lost, and all those days spent looking…
Hundreds of questions, and feeling held, and all these years spent singing…
It all adds up to something beyond what we can grasp or control or achieve or answer.
It all adds up to Jesus.
It all adds up to joy.
Amen.
*Listen to “Poetry Unbound” here.
**Photo credit: featured image created using WOMBO Dream.
With gratitude.
Shalom, Craig Nessan
Thank you, Craig.