only evening allows the time…

After another full day I still have a strong draw to this past Sunday’s Gospel reading. “Jerusalem, Jerusalem — oh, how I long to gather you as a mother hen gathers her brood…”

I see Jesus tilt his head with a look of deep compassion and the knowledge of the pain before him. This image became stronger as our choir sang — “pray for the peace of Jerusalem” — a peace that is still longed for today. With great care and edge of sadness, Jesus tilts his head.  It would be so easy to look out over this vast humanity, put a hand in the air and say ‘I’ve done what I could’. Yet with a heart of a mother, he holds the dream of all it is possible and looks before the reality.

What a familiar struggle in any human relationship– the potential and the reality.  How many times do we stand in that tension and feel the frustration, stretch to find the words,  stretch to try and find the way to make things right? How many times do we feel the ache of letting go? To reflect on this reading — may give us insight into the emotions we witness as Jesus prepares for the last days.

2 thoughts on “only evening allows the time…”

  1. Letting go in relationships, the why and how of that are very difficult. I’m doing some study on the topic of “sacrifice”. Most of us think of that in terms of a terrible loss, and I reckon it can be. However, the meaning of the word, taken from Latin through 13th cent. French, means “to make sacred”. Now there’s a thought.
    Have a good day Carrie


    1. Thank you for this reflection. It seems that there is an important interplay between sacrifice and “being made sacred”. In the choices we make, in the letting go of things important, we grow in understanding the value of what we are releasing. In that moment of understanding not only the act of letting go but the object itself is recognized and its importance made sacred. It is why we remember anniversaries — saying goodbye to those who love, changing a life practice to bring wholeness into our daily living — these times in our lives become markers. Markers which require recognition, i.e. a time made sacred.


Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: