O God, your Son makes himself known to all his disciples in the breaking of bread. Open the eyes of our faith, that we may see him in his redeeming work, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (ELW p. 33) Continue reading
Newsletter Column for May 2020
Dear Friends in Christ,
How do we live into the Season of Easter when it still feels like Lent? If it was one of the weirdest Holy Week’s ever, this may end up being the most awkward of Easter Seasons. Everything is supposed to feel different after Easter, because in the resurrection God has done something brand new. The economy may open back up a bit in the weeks and months to come, but we are not going back to the old normal. Everything has indeed changed, but the change includes death and isolation. The words of the disciples on the Emmaus Road may resonate with us in a new way during Easter Season 2020, “But we had hoped…” (Luke 24:21). Continue reading
Almighty and eternal God, the strength of those who believe and the hope of those who doubt, may we, who have not seen, have faith in you and receive the fullness of Christ’s blessing, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (ELW p. 32) Continue reading
Originally published on Treasure Valley Prays.
Acts 4:32-37: 32 Now the whole group of those who believed were of one heart and soul, and no one claimed private ownership of any possessions, but everything they owned was held in common. 33With great power the apostles gave their testimony to the resurrection of the Lord Jesus, and great grace was upon them all. 34There was not a needy person among them, for as many as owned lands or houses sold them and brought the proceeds of what was sold. 35They laid it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to each as any had need. 36There was a Levite, a native of Cyprus, Joseph, to whom the apostles gave the name Barnabas (which means ‘son of encouragement’). 37He sold a field that belonged to him, then brought the money, and laid it at the apostles’ feet.
This is an incredibly unique time to be living through. There are moments when I am still frightened about getting sick or about which family members, friends, or parishioners will get sick. I worry about the economy. We hear that COVID-19 is the great equalizer, but I know that is not true. There are populations that will be affected more severely; that is part of the broken system we live in. As I write, a meat-packing plant in my home state of South Dakota has closed indefinitely. This one factory employees 3,700 workers who collectively speak more than 80 languages. Those workers’ pandemic experience is much different than that of people who can work from home.
Clear Phoenix Skyline
In the midst of sorrow over these inequalities, some of us, maybe those of us with time to read a devotion like this one, have time to wonder and ask questions. We might have seen photos of city skylines or mountain ranges that are consistently clear for the first time in many years because pollution has drastically decreased. We might ask, how can that be sustained? We might be spending more time with family and friends, either with the people we are stuck with or thanks to digital platforms. We might wonder, on the other side of this, will we make time for these connections? With restaurants closed, friends and I are sharing recipes and cooking more. I absolutely feel closer to my food sources and I wonder, how can I keep this up when the tap to the economy is reopened? And the big one—life has slowed down. Many of us are walking more, listening to the birds more (at least in Southwest Idaho where spring has sprung), simply enjoying the small things in life. I heard from a friend who teaches at a big state university. She and her husband have four kids. Her summer meetings and travels have been cancelled or postponed. She is disappointed that she will not catch up with colleagues, but she said, “I kind of might enjoy just staying home. It might be fine.” Will we rejoin the cycle of being overly busy when it is available?
There are times when I experience an ugly but real cynicism in myself about what will happen on the other side of this pandemic. But I also have a deep and abiding hope that transformation could occur. Most of us do not have a huge currency for changing the larger world. We are not elected officials or CEOs. What currencies we have are our ability to vote, our money, and our time. The thing about these big systems we are part of is that they are made up of smaller communities which include individual members. On the days when my hope is abundant, I imagine a different world. We know we will not go back to the old normal. How will we live? Before the tap is opened, we could take some of the time we have been given to ask what we want the world to look like later.
In mid-March, a friend shared a YouTube video of Hunter Parrish singing Beautiful City, from the latest Godspell revival on Broadway: “Out of the ruins and rubble, Out of the smoke, Out of our night of struggle, Can we see a ray of hope? One pale thin ray reaching for the day. We can build a beautiful city, Yes, we can, yes, we can. We can build a beautiful city, Not a city of angels, But we can build a city of man. We may not reach the ending, But we can start, Slowly but truly mending, Brick by brick, Heart by heart, Now, maybe now, We start learning how.”
I assume that composer Stephen Schwartz had, as his inspiration, the passage from Revelation 21, in which John is shown the holy city Jerusalem, but the thing about that passage is that it does not contain much about what human behavior should look like. For that reason, I included the passage from Acts Chapter 4, in which resources are shared so that all had enough. Granted, this is a community of people who shared amongst themselves internally. Reading the entire book, we know that this was just the beginning. Eventually the Apostles were reaching out to others, continuing to learn how to bring about the reign of God as Jesus had taught them. That is our calling as Easter people.
Will the beautiful city suddenly appear in our world in six, twelve, eighteen months? I doubt it. Can we take this pause from life as we knew it and ask questions about what our corner of the world might look like later? Absolutely. The last verse of Schwartz’s song is, “When your trust is all but shattered, When your faith is all but killed, You can give up bitter and battered, Or you can slowly start to build!”
Prayer: God our comforter, you are a refuge and strength for us. Enable us so to hear the words of faith that our fear is dispelled, our loneliness eased, our anxiety calmed, and our hope reawakened. Amen.
God of mercy, we no longer look for Jesus among the dead, for he is alive and has become the Lord of life. Increase in our minds and hearts the risen life we share with Christ, and help us to grow as your people toward the fullness of eternal life with you, through Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. Amen. (ELW p. 32)
34 Then Peter began to speak to them: ‘I truly understand that God shows no partiality, 35but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him. 36You know the message he sent to the people of Israel, preaching peace by Jesus Christ–he is Lord of all. 37That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced: 38how God anointed Jesus of Nazareth with the Holy Spirit and with power; how he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil, for God was with him. 39We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; 40but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, 41not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. 42He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. 43All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.’
1 O give thanks to the Lord, for he is good; his steadfast love endures forever! 2 Let Israel say, “His steadfast love endures forever.”
14 The Lord is my strength and my might; he has become my salvation. 15 There are glad songs of victory in the tents of the righteous: “The right hand of the Lord does valiantly; 16 the right hand of the Lord is exalted; the right hand of the Lord does valiantly.” 17 I shall not die, but I shall live, and recount the deeds of the Lord. 18 The Lord has punished me severely, but he did not give me over to death. 19 Open to me the gates of righteousness, that I may enter through them and give thanks to the Lord. 20 This is the gate of the Lord; the righteous shall enter through it. 21 I thank you that you have answered me and have become my salvation. 22 The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. 23 This is the Lord’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes. 24 This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
1 So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. 2 Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth, 3 for you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. 4 When Christ who is your life is revealed, then you also will be revealed with him in glory.
1 After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. 2 And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. 3 His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. 4 For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. 5 But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. 6 He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. 7 Then go quickly and tell his disciples, “He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” 8 So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples. 9 Suddenly Jesus met them and said, “Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. 10 Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
Every Ash Wednesday, I mark your foreheads with ashes in the sign of the cross. I take time to point out that one of the reasons we use ashes is because they remind us of our mortality. In my adult lifetime, I have never before experienced a Lent when the global population was so obviously facing our mortality together. We may have begun the Season of Lent by giving some things up voluntarily. But we ended in collective and communal grief for lives and experiences that have been lost or will be lost.
Holy Week itself has been abnormal. Usually this is one of my favorite weeks to wonder in and out of the sanctuary. Members of our altar guild put in hours behind the scenes this week preparing. There is the altar to set for Maundy Thursday. There are bowls and towels for foot washing. The cloth on our suspended cross gets changed from purple to black for Good Friday. And the smells—oil for anointing, candles burning, and of course Easter lilies. I missed all of that this Holy Week. So much has changed for this week, in our daily routines, in our life as citizens of this world.
But today is Easter, and we get to celebrate together what has not changed. And what has not changed is that Jesus has been raised from the dead. The tomb is not only open. It is empty. Jesus is going ahead of us and so we can proclaim, He is risen indeed. Alleluia.
This Easter, I am not going to try to pretend that the four gospel writers do not have their own way of telling the story of Jesus resurrection. And I am not going to hide my delight that this is Matthew’s year.
I love different aspects of all four of the gospels and one of the things I love about Matthew is how he remembered to draw in the natural world. Matthew’s gospel is the one that includes a star leading Magi from the East to the infant Jesus. Matthew’s gospel includes Jesus giving his long sermon specifically from a mountain. Matthew’s gospel is the one that includes an earthquake at Jesus’ death. And Matthew’s gospel has an earthquake at the resurrection too.
I will admit that until this year I did not have a lot of empathy for those guards appointed to Jesus’s tomb. That changed this year. The earthquake Idaho experiences was downright frightening. It would have welcomed a messenger from God telling me to not be afraid, though I might have rolled my eyes.
When we want to talk about life being difficult, we turn to the metaphor of an earthquake. We say things like, “It feels like the ground beneath me has shifted.” That’s what the COVID-19 pandemic has done. There are so many aspects of our lives that have changed in the past few weeks. So much has shifted. It makes sense that rolling a stone away from the already empty tomb would cause an earthquake, cause the earth to shift. The world would not be the same after Jesus’ resurrection.
God chose to resurrect Jesus knowing our human need for it. Without it, doubts flourish. God knew that we are like the Pharisees who always asked for one more sign from Jesus to prove himself. Knowing this, God raised Jesus from the dead. It’s as if he said, “See, what he was telling you is true. Nothing can separate you from my love. I do not lurk at a distance, ready to pounce on you when you fail. Instead, I walk with you, giving as much as I dare. Look at Jesus and know that everything he said is true.”
The earthquake at Jesus’ death caused rocks to split. Tombs were opened and bodies of saints were raised. There is no question about who will roll the stone away. When the two Marys go to the tomb there is a great earthquake; “for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it.” The guards shook and became like dead man. The resurrection is an earth-shaking event.
There is more to this angel that rolls back the stone. There is a fabulous painting that depicts Matthew’s resurrection story. In the painting the two Marys are looking up the angel who is sitting on a big bolder. He is looking at them with an expression that says, “Well, what did you expect? He told you he would be raised from the dead. He has gone ahead of you.”
The angel speaks to the women with familiar words, “Do not be afraid.” I could have preached an entire sermon on those four words; how desperately we need to hear the imperative: “Do not be afraid” or “You there. Stop being afraid.” Reject your current state of fear for the angel is bringing you news of great joy.
The angel tells them Jesus has been raised and that they should tell the disciples that Jesus is going ahead to Galilee, where the disciples will see him. The empty tomb is not the end of the story. Jesus told his disciples earlier, “But after I am raised up, I will go ahead of you to Galilee.” The angel reminds us of that promise and sends the women to a task of calling the scattered disciples to Galilee. The women go with a mixture of feelings appropriate to the perception of this awesome, earth shaking reality—both fear and joy. The women become witnesses and agents of the resurrection.
“They will see me in Galilee.” The promise of the story invites us to a community where tragedy turns to comedy, where things are all shook up. Death no longer holds us. The corrosive crust of our sins is shattered through the forgiveness that comes in the community gathered around bread and wine, where Jesus himself has promised to be. The resurrection is about the invitation to gather in this forgiving community. Only the one who has died because of us and who is raised by God has the power to stand among us and say, “Rejoice! Do not be afraid. Go tell my sisters and brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
For us today, as for the women at the tomb, Jesus’ promise means that he goes ahead of us to lead us into the world–into a transformative way of life that testifies to the power of resurrection wherever we live. Jesus is going ahead–not going away. The empty tomb does not signify absence but presence: it announces the Resurrected One’s presence on the road ahead.
We are to look for experiences of the resurrection presence not only in Galilee but also in Nampa, Boise, the entire Treasure Valley–on all the roads of our lives. Resurrection means that Jesus, the Living One, goes ahead of us. Jesus can be found only when we experience that he is ahead of us and that he opens up a future for us. He transforms our community of followers into courageous witnesses to Jesus’ presence.
What will this community look like? What does it mean to experience the resurrection? I find it helpful to return to the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, in which Jesus speaks of both guideposts and promises. I preached on the Beatitudes the first Sunday in February in our sanctuary. For me, facing the pandemic, experiencing the earth beneath me shifting, today the Beatitudes sound like something we will all be able to relate to a whole new way.
Blessed are the poor in spirit. Blessed are those who mourn.
Blessed are the meek. Blessed are those who hunger and search for righteousness.
Blessed are those who show mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart.
There can be no doubt in my mind that Jesus both walks with us and is ahead of us on this particular Easter Day. And in that we can find deep hope.
Resurrection means that Jesus transforms our community into courageous witnesses to Jesus’ presence. The resurrection is manifest in the community of Jesus disciples. They walked through the door into a new world suddenly full of hope and possibility. Frightened, discouraged, grieving men and women somehow were transformed into brave, hopeful, loving bearers of good news. Amen.
Uplifted by the promised hope of healing and resurrection, we join the people of God in all times and places in praying for the church, the world, and all who are in need.
A brief silence.
God of resurrection, from the very beginning you give the church the gift of women as your witnesses: as preachers, teachers, and leaders. Open our ears to their proclamation this day and always. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
All your creation praises you—the earth hums, the seas pulse, the stars shine, and the galaxies whirl in glorious harmonies to honor you. Let us hear and blend our voices in the song. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
The countries of the world experience disunity and conflict; even amid a global crisis we set our minds on fear and greed rather than on your rule of justice and steadfast love. Convict the hearts of our leaders and persuade them to choose human life over profit or power. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
We still weep with those who weep, and mourn with those who mourn. Cradle the fearful, the suffering, and the dying, assuring them of your loving presence, especially those lives threatened or claimed by COVID-19. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Bless the creative service of worship leaders this day: musicians, worship assistants, preachers, readers, and all others who provide welcome and hospitality in the midst of homebound isolation and distress. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Risen Lord, you went ahead of us into the grave and defeated the powers of evil. We remember those who have died. Inspire us to live our lives in this resurrection hope and draw us to you in our final days. Lord, in your mercy, hear our prayer.
With bold confidence in your love, almighty God, we place all for whom we pray into your eternal care; through Christ our Lord.
Amen.
My deepest thanks to my colleague and friend Casey Cross, Young Disciples Minister at Hope Lutheran Church, Eagle, for adapting this for the Confirmation Co-op Students and Families for Holy Week 2020. I will admit that I was not too keen on participating on my own, but I got a nudge from another colleague last night, the weather is beautiful on this Holy Saturday in Nampa, and I needed to stretch my legs. It should not surprise me that it ended up being a very good experience. I hope this becomes a helpful meditation for my readers during the Season of Easter. Maybe you will take the prayer to the streets of your community (on foot, by car, or in your mind).
Home – The Lord’s Prayer
Begin at your “home base” together praying your preferred version of the Lord’s
Pray together.
Place of Healing – Merciful God, your healing power is everywhere about us. Strengthen those who work among the sick; give them courage and confidence in all they do. Encourage them when their efforts seem futile or when death prevails. Increase their trust in your power even to overcome death and pain and crying. May they be thankful for every sign of health you give, and humble before the mystery of your healing grace…. (ELW Pastoral Care, page 194)
I had my annual physical via telehealth this week through Saltzer. Giving thanks for my doctor who put me at ease and told me how to get tested for COVID-19 if I ever feel symptomatic.
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Place of Leadership – We remember in our prayers civil servants, legislators and politicians and pray their work, deliberations and decisions consider the diversity of humanity, factors that contribute to communities flourishing and the well-being of people with critical needs (ELCA Prayer Ventures September 2016).
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Place of Education – God of wisdom, you have created us with the tools we need to learn, grow, and understand. We thank you for the gifts of education and educators. Encourage our educators at this time of uncertainty as they see their vocation in a new way. Energize students to explore, imagine, create, and continue to learn, no matter the circumstances. Keep our spaces for learning safe, healthy, and open for all to boldly ask questions and seek answers.
Nampa High School
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Faith Community – Gathering God, like a mother hen you gather us under your sheltering wings. Though we cannot gather in one location as we are used to, we remain under your wing. It is you that bring us together beyond space and time. Guide us as we explore new ways to be community together, remembering that you – not a building – are what unite us and hold us together through it all.
Trinity and Grace have shared an Easter Vigil since 2011–not this year. Giving thanks for our partnership through the years.
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Prayers for the World – You may wish to end your walk together at home, with this prayer for the world.
Every nation has been affected by the far-reaching impacts and loss of life from the coronavirus pandemic. Pray for all countries and for cooperation between nations, our global siblings in Christ, and especially for the health and care of those who are most vulnerable ― elders, people of all ages with severe chronic conditions, and those who suffer poverty and lack of medical care (ELCA Prayer Ventures April 2020).
Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.
Other Options – Feel free to include some or all of these to your list of prayer petitions, walk, and/or site visits.
Senior Community
Prayers for all the seniors who do not have this as a place to gather right now
Closed Business
“Essential” Place of Business
Giving thanks for amazing customer service at Mountain West Bank, as Trinity New Hope affordable housing and Trinity Lutheran applied through them for the Paycheck Protection Program.
A “Non-Essential” Place You Miss
(Like a movie theater, park, etc.)
A Local Park or Outdoor Recreation Site
A facilitator of a Facebook group for church leaders posed this question last week: What are your affirmations about who God is that is life-giving and uplifting in these times?
My response was “God cares about physical bodies.” Now, living in the Great Basin for the past ten years has taught me that some Christians might read that answer and think I am referring to the purity culture. That is not where I am going, and one way my readers can know that is because my scripture of choice is not a go-to passage for the purity culture. Instead, it is about God’s love and God knowing and creating us as physical creatures. I love all of Psalm 139, but this week I have especially been remembering these verses.
Psalm 139:13-17
For it was you who formed my inward parts;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
that I know very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes beheld my unformed substance.
In your book were written
all the days that were formed for me,
when none of them as yet existed.
How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God!
How vast is the sum of them!
We are, each one of us, created by God. We are beloved. What is more, with the incarnation, God being born in human form, God through Jesus knows what it is like to be embodied. I have to say that a pandemic makes me appreciate the incarnation in brand new ways, and I already had a healthy appreciation for Immanuel, God is with us. All of this is the biblical and theological groundwork for the following suggestions for my parishioners and all the people I care about.
If the first day/weeks of the COVID-19 were figuring out how to help my Lutheran congregation in Southwest Idaho keep worshiping God, then the next chapter was learning all about what pastoral care looks like during the pandemic. It meant changing my expectations for myself (I can no longer go to hospitals and homes and sit with people). My first parishioner has been hospitalized (not with COVID-19) and it is so hard. I feel helpless, even though I know I am not. I have made the mental adjustments. I have reasoned that if phone calls, emails, cards, and Marco Polo messages from friends across the town and across the country have buoyed me in the past few weeks, why would the same not be true for my parishioners?
What I have spent even more time learning about and considering is how all of our bodies are absorbing or coping with the stress and grief in our lives. Some of us already know people who have died from the virus. Others of us are so far grieving the loss of the way things were. We are grieving the loss of human interaction and the needed physical touch that comes with it. We are grieving cancelled events and gatherings. Sometimes I judge these feelings in myself, “those are not big problems compared to actual death Meggan” and yet I know that if a parishioner judged his own grief I would say, “those are still your real feelings and they are valid.” Here is a link from the Harvard Business Review, to an article about the grief we are experiencing that has been making the rounds on social media: That Discomfort You Are Feeling is Grief.
People who specialize in trauma have become lifelines for how to make our way through this chapter. I can sense in myself the toll of everything. I am not as productive as I would like to be. I need more refueling, whether it comes in the form of hydration, conversations, sleep, things that make me laugh, or prayer. I also need to get rid of the stress hormone, cortisol. What was hammered home to me in every Zoom Meeting/Webinar/Conversation I have had about this is that more exercise is good right now. It is not just good; it’s crucial. If I do not get rid of that hormone walking around my neighborhood, chances are I might release it in a conversation with an innocent parishioner/relative/friend/colleague.
One of the things we have worked on in my congregation over the last five years is weaving the language of stewardship into all of our ministry. Certainly we are called to be good stewards of our financial resources, something I will surely return to in a future blog. But as followers of Jesus Christ we are called to be stewards of so much more: the natural world, the resources passed down from past generations, our time, our relationships, and yes, our bodies. And if we neglect our bodies we are not much good stewarding anything else and we will not be ready emotionally to care for the people who die during this chapter or care for those left behind to mourn.
So I implore all of us to do the following:
In my attempts to prepare to provide pastoral care over the phone, I have been familiarizing myself with the plethora of prayers in my Evangelical Lutheran Worship Pastoral Care book. Here is one for times of trauma:
Let us pray. Our Lord and our God, grant us grace to know your love in whatever we face. Give us patience and thankfulness even in our pain, anxiety, or loss; and move us with compassion and tenderness for our afflicted neighbors; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Excerpts from Palm Sunday Worship Service, created by congregations in the ELCA Treasure Valley Cluster
You can find the entire worship service here via YouTube here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0eGHU4humn8&t=233s
MATTHEW 21:1-11 (Processional Gospel)
When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, ‘Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, “The Lord needs them.” And he will send them immediately.’ This took place to fulfil what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,
‘Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.’
The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
‘Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!’
When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, ‘Who is this?’ The crowds were saying, ‘This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.’
PRAYER OF THE DAY Faith, Caldwell
Merciful Savior, it is our privilege and delight to be in your presence and to bring our praises and worship to you. You are our teacher and our friend; our rock and our hope; our strength and our light. We celebrate your arrival in Jerusalem; we anticipate the agony that is before you; we await your victory over death. Grant that we might walk this journey alongside you as faithful disciples, rather than as participants of the fickle crowd. Amen.
PSALM 31 Immanuel, Boise
Refrain: Oh Lord, be my rock and safety.
In You, O Lord I take refuge; let me never be put to shame.
In your justice, rescue me, oh my faithful Lord, in your hands I commend my spirit.
I place my trust in you, Lord; in your hands is my destiny.
Let your face shine upon your servant, Lord, in your hands I will place my life.
REFLECTION Immanuel, Boise
Last week, another crowd gathered, waving not palm branches but American flags, as a Navy hospital ship entered the NY harbor.
They, too, were there to welcome what had come to give help and rescue,
to save patients who might otherwise face long delays because of hospitals overwhelmed with Covid-19 patients.
That ship and another like it in Los Angeles, are both marked with the symbol of our faith—the cross. One named “Comfort” and the other named “Mercy.”
Comfort and Mercy. That’s what those crowds lining the streets of Jerusalem saw in Jesus. That’s what he had shown them from the very beginning:
From his words in the Sermon on the Mount, “Blessed are you who are poor in spirit, blessed are you who mourn.”
To his feeding of those whose stomachs growled with hunger.
To his healing of those who were sick and dying.
Jesus entered fully into the suffering of those he met. And then he went further.
Even when the shouts of “hosanna” faded away.
Even when the once-adoring crowds turned on him.
Even when that last week must have felt like a whole year to him.
Even then, he was wiling to endure the suffering that led to death on the cross, so that he might bring Comfort and Mercy to the whole world—even to us today.
That’s the kind of Savior we worship.
One who comes down, even now, in these sad and fearful days we are living in.
To meet us in our brokenness, and rescue us from our pain.
To lift us from despair to hope, from death to life.
To give us comfort and mercy.
A READING FROM PHILIPPIANS 2:5-11 Trinity, Nampa
Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,
who, though he was in the form of God,
did not regard equality with God
as something to be exploited,
but emptied himself,
taking the form of a slave,
being born in human likeness.
And being found in human form,
he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death—
even death on a cross.
Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.
REFLECTION
Trinity, Nampa
Holy Week begins with a procession, but this procession is not what it appears to be. It is so much more.
Some scholars say that two processions entered Jerusalem on that first Palm Sunday. Jesus’ was not the only Triumphal Entry. Every year, the Roman governor of Judea would ride up to Jerusalem from his coastal residence in the west. He wanted to be present in the city for the Passover, the Jewish festival that swelled Jerusalem’s population from its usual 50,000 to at least 200,000.
The governor would come in all of his imperial majesty to remind the Jewish pilgrims that Rome was in charge. They could commemorate an ancient victory against Egypt if they wanted to. However, real present-day resistance would be futile. Rome was watching.
As Pilate clanged and crashed his imperial way into Jerusalem from the west, Jesus approached from the east. He looked, by contrast, ragtag and absurd. His was the procession of the ridiculous, the powerless, and the explicitly vulnerable.
Jesus rode the most unthreatening and most un-military mount imaginable: a female nursing donkey with her little colt trotting along beside her. The prophet Zechariah predicted the ride of a king “on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” He would be the nonviolent king who would “command peace to the nations.”
Like the contrast in the two processions central to Palm Sunday, the hymn in Philippians 2 portrays a different kind of power. In Jesus, God takes on human form. But rather than insisting on obedience or seducing them, Jesus instead literally “pours himself out,” and takes the form that perhaps is most undesirable—that of a slave: powerless.
The power of Jesus Christ is not power-over. Instead it is love, compassion, mercy and companionship alongside. The goal in all of this, it seems, is for God not to take from humanity but to bless it, to be our companion, to know what it is to be human, even when we are powerless, suffering, lonely, afraid. God not only knows us, the hymn says, God, through Jesus, can suffer with us.
PRAYERS Grace, Mountain Home
Turning our hearts to God who is gracious and merciful, we pray for the church, the world, and all who are in need.
God of mercy, awaken your church to new proclamations of your faithfulness. By your Spirit, give us bold and joyful words to speak, that we sustain the weary with the message of your redemption. Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.
God of mercy, quiet the earth where it trembles and shakes. Protect vulnerable ecosystems, threatened habitats, and endangered species. Prosper the work of scientists, engineers, and researchers who find ways to restore creation to health and wholeness. Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.
God of mercy, drive away fear and anger that cause us to turn against one another. Give courage to leaders who seek liberation for the oppressed. Bring peace and hope to those who are in prison and those who face execution. Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.
God of mercy, send your saving help to all who suffer abuse, insult, discrimination, or contempt. Heal the wounded. Comfort the dying and the lonely. Bring peace to those suffering chronic or terminal illness and to those separated from loved ones. Tend to all who cry out for relief especially those we name before you. Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.
God of mercy, we pray for all who will prepare and lead worship in new and different ways during this Holy Week. In all things, show us the ways that you call us to die to self, to live for you, and to give of ourselves for the sake of others. Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.
God of mercy, when we breathe our last, you raise us to eternal life. With all your witnesses in heaven and on earth, let us boldly confess the name of Jesus Christ, our resurrection and our hope. Hear us, O God,
Your mercy is great.
According to your steadfast love, O God, hear these and all our prayers as we commend them to you; through Christ our Lord who taught us to pray…
Wednesday night, April 1, we encourage all members of Trinity Lutheran Church, Nampa to pray this devotional at 7pm. You may wish to light a candle as a way of inviting the light of Christ into your sacred space.
(Thanks to Sharon Jones for contributing to this devotion)
Our theme for midweek Lent evening prayer is Open our Lives.
Photograph by Trinity member Mary Braudrick
March 4 was “Open our Eyes.”
March 11 was “Open our Hands.”
March 18 was “Open our Ears.”
March 25 was “Open our Hearts.”
April 1 is “Open our Lives.”
Psalm 141 (Song of Forgiveness and Protection)
1 I call upon you, O Lord; come quickly to me;
give ear to my voice when I call to you.
2 Let my prayer be counted as incense before you,
and the lifting up of my hands as an evening sacrifice.
3 Set a guard over my mouth, O Lord;
keep watch over the door of my lips.
4 Do not turn my heart to any evil,
to busy myself with wicked deeds
in company with those who work iniquity;
do not let me eat of their delicacies.
5 Let the righteous strike me;
let the faithful correct me.
Never let the oil of the wicked anoint my head,
for my prayer is continually against their wicked deeds.
6 When they are given over to those who shall condemn them,
then they shall learn that my words were pleasant.
7 Like a rock that one breaks apart and shatters on the land,
so shall their bones be strewn at the mouth of Sheol.
Litany (Sundays and Seasons)
When our lives are joyous and laughter abounds, Christ is dwelling there.
When the news is grim and we have nowhere to turn, Christ is dwelling there.
In the water and word, the bread and wine, Christ is dwelling there.
In our life and our death, in the new life to come, Christ is dwelling there.
Prayer
Open our lives, Lord, to reflect your glory. Lead us to the cross, to the grave, to the empty tomb, and into the world as imitators of Christ. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
Readings
Deuteronomy 30:15-20
15 See, I have set before you today life and prosperity, death and adversity. 16If you obey the commandments of the Lord your God that I am commanding you today, by loving the Lord your God, walking in his ways, and observing his commandments, decrees, and ordinances, then you shall live and become numerous, and the Lord your God will bless you in the land that you are entering to possess. 17But if your heart turns away and you do not hear, but are led astray to bow down to other gods and serve them, 18I declare to you today that you shall perish; you shall not live long in the land that you are crossing the Jordan to enter and possess. 19I call heaven and earth to witness against you today that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live, 20loving the Lord your God, obeying him, and holding fast to him; for that means life to you and length of days, so that you may live in the land that the Lord swore to give to your ancestors, to Abraham, to Isaac, and to Jacob.
Galatians 2:15-21
15 We ourselves are Jews by birth and not Gentile sinners; 16yet we know that a person is justified not by the works of the law but through faith in Jesus Christ. And we have come to believe in Christ Jesus, so that we might be justified by faith in Christ, and not by doing the works of the law, because no one will be justified by the works of the law. 17But if, in our effort to be justified in Christ, we ourselves have been found to be sinners, is Christ then a servant of sin? Certainly not! 18But if I build up again the very things that I once tore down, then I demonstrate that I am a transgressor. 19For through the law I died to the law, so that I might live to God. I have been crucified with Christ; 20and it is no longer I who live, but it is Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.21I do not nullify the grace of God; for if justification comes through the law, then Christ died for nothing.
Reflection by Trinity Member Sharon Jones
When My Heart and Eyes Were Opened
When I was 13 years old I went to a church camp in McCall, Quaker Hill.. That is when I was touched by God. The music and the love of Christ came into my heart. The youth pastor and music director was a big influence on the youth in that camp. I lived that life until I was about 18, then I took a different path, for about thirteen years or so. Oh, I went to church off and on, but was not a faithful servant
A neighbor, or should I say angel invited me to church, the other Lutheran church. My life changed slowly to an active life centered in Christ. You might say my eyes were open again, and they have stayed that way for the last forty years. My heart belongs to Christ now. He has blessed me beyond my wildest imagination.
I came to Trinity in 1997. We had been to the wedding of one of Trinity’s members sons and my daughter’s best friend. It was held at the Catholic church, Father John was officiating, with Pastor Eric Wilson Wieberg, from Trinity. When Kristi started down the aisle Pastor Eric held up a sign that said, ‘it is about time’. I turned to my husband and said that is our new church. It has been twenty three years since I came to Trinity. My eyes and heart were first opened at 13.
There is a God Wink to this story, one of our members’ sister is married to the brother of that young man who was the youth pastor and music director at Quaker Hill camp.
I love God, I love this church and I love everyone of you.
-Sharon
(Originally posted on tvprays.org)
1 Out of the depths I cry to you, O Lord.
2 Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplications!
3 If you, O Lord, should mark iniquities,
Lord, who could stand?
4 But there is forgiveness with you,
so that you may be revered.
5 I wait for the Lord, my soul waits,
and in his word I hope;
6 my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for the morning,
more than those who watch for the morning.
7 O Israel, hope in the Lord!
For with the Lord there is steadfast love,
and with him is great power to redeem.
8 It is he who will redeem Israel
from all its iniquities.
My adrenaline has carried me through the past two weeks, for the most part. But in the last few days, certain pieces of music have led me to weep, not cry, but weep. It is hard to say exactly why I am crying, but I have decided to not, for once, overanalyze. Instead I am letting the feelings come.
I grieve for people who have died. I mourn for friends who have lost jobs or whose job searches have become more difficult because of the pandemic. I worry about people experiencing homelessness and how they will be kept safe. I grieve the list of cancelled gatherings, which keeps growing. All of them were chances to learn new things, meet new people, and have new adventures. I grieve not seeing so many people I love in person. I enjoy the time alone, but I miss hugs and human touch given by parishioners and my circle of friends
Each time a have a big long cry it really does feel like it’s coming “out of the depths,” as the psalmist says. Does the Lord hear our voices? We trust that it is true, even when the Lord feels far away. And we wait for the Lord; how honest that feels to me in some moments. I wait for the Lord to intervene, to protect, to heal, to comfort, to give wisdom and guidance and rest.
Whenever I pray a lament psalm, I am thankful for the turn the psalmist makes. I am not sure I could make the turn on my own. Lament is rarely siloed. It is accompanied by acts of remembrance like, “For with the Lord there is steadfast love, and with him is great power to redeem.” The Lord has loved, redeemed, and delivered Israel in the past and psalmist trusts that God will stay true to God’s character. Hope remains because we also can trust God’s character to remain steadfast.
I do not mean to make this a simple linear journey: lament, remembrance, hope. It is cyclical and, depending on the person, the cycle may run several times within an hour. But for me there is comfort in not being the first or the last person who needs to cry out to God. I will not stay in lament but some time there is truthful. Lament was a part of our tradition, long before the current pandemic. Perhaps this will be a time to reclaim it individually and communally.
Prayer
Lord Christ, you came into the world as one of us, and suffered as we do. As we go through the trials of life, help us to realize that you are with us at all times and in all things; that we have no secrets from you; and that your loving grace enfolds us for eternity. In the security of your embrace we pray. Amen. (ELW p. 84)
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A Place at the Table 