Lent 5 – the task of double living

 

Image: Rise Up, Lazarus (Death Has No Power Here)
© Jan Richardson

“On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living,
that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend’s life also,
in our own, to the world.” 


Quote: Henry David Thoreau

Lent 1 – Wilderness

 

Inspired by Matthew 4:1–11:
“And suddenly angels came and waited on him.”


WILDERNESS BLESSING

Let us say
this blessing began
whole and complete
upon the page.
And then let us say
one word loosed itself
and another followed it
in turn.

Let us say
this blessing started
to shed all
it did not need,
that line by line
it returned
to the ground
from which it came.

Let us say
this blessing is not
leaving you,
is not abandoning you
to the wild
that lies ahead,
but that it is loathe
to load you down
on this road where
you will need
to travel light.

Let us say
perhaps this blessing
became the path
beneath your feet,
the desert
that stretched before you,
the clear sight
that finally came.

Let us say
that when this blessing
at last came to its end,
all it left behind
was bread,
wine,
a fleeting flash
of wing.


—Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons

Image: “Where Angels Love to Tread“

© https://janrichardsonimages.com

Holy Saturday…


I am grateful for these words from Jan Richardson. Holy Saturdays are always uniquely quiet. All motion seems to slow or stop. There is a strong desire for connection as the earth still shakes under our feet.

“On this Holy Saturday, I have been thinking about how this is not a day for answers. It is a threshold day, a day that lies between, and so resists any easy certainty. It is a day that invites us to make a space within the weariness, the fear, the ache. It is a day that beckons us to turn toward one another and to remember we do not breathe alone.”

IN THE BREATH, ANOTHER BREATHING
For Holy Saturday
Let it be
that on this day
we will expect
no more of ourselves
than to keep
breathing
with the bewildered
cadence
of lungs that will not
give up the ghost.
Let it be
we will expect
little but
the beating of
our heart,
stubborn in
its repeating rhythm
that will not
cease to sound.
Let it be
we will
still ourselves
enough to hear
what may yet
come to echo:
as if in the breath,
another breathing;
as if in the heartbeat,
another heart.
Let it be
we will not
try to fathom
what comes
to meet us
in the stillness
but simply open
to the approach
of a mystery
we hardly dared
to dream.

Quote: Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons
Image: “Breath Will Come to the Desolate Bones”

Simply Lent 31…

 

 

Justice and Peace meet at the café,
sit together,
hands folded around steaming cups,
heads bent over the paper.

They are not taking in
the news of the world
with sorrowing eyes
and the clucking of tongues.

They are instead planning their itinerary,
plotting their map,
looking for the places where
they might slip in.

Their fingers touch, release,
touch again as they read,
moving with the half-aware habits
that come only with long living alongside.

They have met, parted,
met again on countless mornings
like this one, torn and taken
by turns.

They put the paper aside.
They brush away the crumbs.
They talk quietly.
They know there is work to do.

But they order one more cup:
there is savoring they must do before
the saving begins.
They lean in,

barely touching
across the table for
a kiss that makes a way,
a world.

—Jan Richardson

Image: “Meeting” © janrichardsonimages.com

(Blessing inspired by Psalm 85, NRSV—“Steadfast love and faithfulness will meet; righteousness and peace will kiss each other.”)

Simply Lent 17…

 

 

welcome spring…

ROUGH TRANSLATIONS

Hope nonetheless.
Hope despite.
Hope regardless.
Hope still.

Hope where we had ceased to hope.
Hope amid what threatens hope.
Hope with those who feed our hope.
Hope beyond what we had hoped.
Hope that draws us past our limits.

Hope that defies expectations.
Hope that questions what we have known.
Hope that makes a way where there is none.
Hope that takes us past our fear.

Hope that calls us into life.
Hope that holds us beyond death.
Hope that blesses those to come.


Quote: Jan Richardson
from Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons

Image: “Coming to My Senses” © janrichardsonimages.com

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