Are You the Messiah?
Dear God, thank you for sending Jesus. He answered “I am!” And we can still know him today.
Amen
Alba Andersen
When All Hope is Lost
If Jesus teaches us the words to pray in Matthew when he first delivers the Lord’s prayer, here in the Garden of Gethsemane, he models how to pray when all hope is lost. We can come to God in any circumstance. We too can call out, “God this is too hard, please carry my burden, take my pain from me.” In fact, when all hope is lost, God remains our steadfast rock and He is waiting to receive our prayers. Jesus also shows us that there is nothing we can’t ask for. We pray to the one who provides hope when we are hopeless. We pray to the one who sends faith when we feel none, and we pray to the one who loves us back beyond measure.
Jesus says, “but the Scriptures must be fulfilled.” In our own lives, we fulfill God’s path and plans for us as we journey through our time here on earth. This journey is not always an easy one, in fact, there are times when we might feel lost, hopeless, and scared of what is to come. This passage says, “everyone deserted him and fled.” Jesus felt and endured real earthly pain and suffering. And yet, Jesus died for us because he loved us and was resurrected so that we may have everlasting life with God.
Life giving God, when all hope feels lost, we know we can come to you. You alone are our hope and shield, you alone are our heart’s desire. We worship you because you called us into life, and you remain with us all the days of our life. Thanks be to God! Amen
Robin Anderson
Take and Eat
Loving God,
Let us remember you during Lent, during communion, and all the days of our life.
Amen
Scotia Andersen
Today, you are invited to practice the Ignatian Prayer Method, using the story of the Anointing at Bethany.
He was, After All, Human
Almost every Christian is familiar with the story of Palm Sunday. It’s a classic for any decent Sunday school program, and an iconic lead-up to Holy Week. However, each time I read it, it does not begin to feel less strange. I mean, personally if I was the son of God destined to rule and unite the kingdoms of Heaven and Earth, I would not choose a young donkey as my royal steed. I find it hard to imagine myself as a passerby that day, thinking to myself, “Ah yes, that is the Savior of the world.” Even with the crowd cheering, waving leaves, and bowing to their massiah, I would think less of most of the people involved after that.
Yet, looking back on it today with my somewhat decent understanding and belief of such theological matters, I could not think of a more fitting way for Jesus to enter. He was, after all, human, and not the kind with riches and glamour far too prestigious for the likes of us, but one who was not afraid to get down in the dirt, with the poor, sick, needy, and cast-down people of this world which he so loved. And so, although he could have theoretically summoned a golden chariot with flamethrowers on the back pulled by majestic creatures, he settles for the nearby donkey. The crowd of people needed not for a glorious king, but one who could relate to them and the rest of the broken world. And so they bow down with their palm leaves and worship their lord with the same energy and reverence the world would any other king or deity.
Dear God, thank You that Jesus is a King who gets close to us, especially in our need. Help us to follow him, and do the same for others. Amen.
Jude Miller
Saved by grace at rise of dawn,
Undeserved and yet received,
Blessed by riches beyond measure,
Trusting You, and You alone.
Your gift bestowed on the children of wrath,
To walk in good works and newness of life,
Lead us away from the course of the world,
To follow your path of kindness and peace.
Holy Spirit, wind of mercy,
Breathe upon us hope and faith,
And when the light fades for the day,
Carry us home on wings of love.
Karen Truscott
This passage sees Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on a donkey. We see that Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem on a colt was prophesized in Zechariah 9:9, and that the crowds recognised him as being a Messiah or King. The shouts from the crowd and covering the ground contain both blessings and acknowledgement of Jesus’ connections to the royal lineage of David. The fact that Jesus enters on a colt is countercultural to how other kings would have entered the city. It also reminds us of the countercultural nature of Jesus’ teachings and work as a whole. At the colt itself was also symbolic of peace. The shouts of the crowd in verse 10 shows the hopefulness of the crowd that Jesus (and his teachings) would usher in peace and societal changes.
I found it a good reminder that we need to be able to recognise the peace and changemakers around us, however big or small their actions, and be able to take their lead in working for a better world. Our faith, and associated practices, can also been seen today as countercultural in an area that is widely secular; however Jesus actions and teachings were similar two thousand years ago.
King Jesus, help us to seek Your kingdom and walk in Your way, wherever we go. Amen
Elizabeth Tilley
This is a particularly weird and complicated part of a particularly complicated book. The Letter to the Hebrews is dense with imagery, and its author is freewheeling with Scripture, as they weave the story of God with God’s people into and through the person and work of Jesus “in the days of his flesh.” There are times when it feels totally impenetrable in our time and place.
There’s a lot to chew on in this passage, but what strikes me this time around is the wild fact that Jesus Christ, Son of God, knows what it’s like to pray and plead, with loud cries and tears, to the One who he trusted to hear those groaning prayers. What’s more, though the author says that Jesus was heard and saved from death, they are perfectly aware that Jesus was not saved from death in every sense. He was undoubtedly killed for his obedience to the will and way of the One he called Father. The rescue was in resurrection.
It’s oddly reassuring to know that Jesus knows what it means to feel the desperation of human weakness and need, our frailty and fear. And that even his prayers were “answered” in a way I expect was quite different what what he’d hoped as he prayed that God would take away the “cup” he was about to drink, in the Garden of Gethsemane (cf Luke 22:42). And even more that the wonder God was working would be utterly greater than his flesh could have hoped.
God of resurrection, help us to know and to trust that You hear all our prayers. Thank You that we can bring our most desperate selves to You, and You receive us when all we have to offer is loud cries and tears. And thank You that You have shown Yourself time and again to be the One who works wonders beyond our asking or imagining. Through Jesus, who was dead and is alive. Amen.
God’s Kingdom
In this passage, we are shown by Jesus that God’s kingdom isn’t shaped by power or money, but love and equality. We are shown Jesus’ desire for true worship, one which doesn’t focus on Earth like objectives and things. It also serves as a reminder of the value of sincerity to approach our God. It invites us to reflect on the purity of our own worship and our willingness to confront issues that diminish the integrity of our faith.
Jesus, keep us faithful to you and your ways, as you are always faithful to us. Amen
Charlie Bowles
An Act of Love
It strikes me that it is an act of love.
It could have been much simpler.
Why take on human form?
But so it was chosen.
How grateful am I to have one who chose to witness our sorrows, impatiences, pleasures - puny, overwhelming, real. One who chose to walk with us in our difficulties, our temptations and weakness. There was no need. He chose to be with us.
In all this not for a moment drifting from God, from the flawless knowledge of perfect love. Its possibility, its necessity. Its presence in Him radiant; in the world, obscured by sin.
Not for a moment drifting, even till the cross - and the fear, anger, pain, exhaustion, hatred, desperation that must have been. Human as he is.
May we know ourselves to be seen, understood, loved.
May we serve, with the courage to put ourselves aside.
Please God, teach our love to be constant, teach us to love well.
O God, may we tend creation into your true radiance.
Zabrina Ng
Confidence and Hope
These days, many Christians worldwide can identify with Isaiah’s “suffering servant.” In reading news headlines, people who stand up for truth, justice, and the flourishing of all people often bear the brunt of violence from powerful forces and people who act for personal gain, wealth, and influence. In many places, obedience to God’s call of teaching and sustaining “the weary with a word,” is met with opposition, confrontation, and harassment.
It’s easy to become weary of all the troubles that surround us. It feels better to turn off the news and retreat into solitude or the comfort of Christian community. But in this passage, God’s servant bravely wakes each day with ears open to God’s call and the plight of the suffering. The literal and thematic centre of Isaiah 50 is verse 6. Christians see Jesus as the suffering servant who paid the cost of being faithful to God. In the face of the abuse and pain that the servant’s enemies inflicted upon him, he demonstrated a holy courage that was not self-preserving, but self-giving. Jesus lived in the centre of his Father’s will and yet he was not protected from experiencing suffering. However, like Isaiah’s suffering servant, Jesus counted on God’s help and vindication of him when his adversaries confronted him (vv. 7-9).
With a deep trust in God’s abiding presence, Jesus engaged the powers, authorities, and forces of injustice, both seen and unseen. On the cross he gave voice to all humanity’s lament over God’s absence in time of need. But in the end, he still commended his life and spirit into God’s hands (Luke 23:46).
The encouragement we find in these verses is that as we open ourselves to listen to God’s wise instruction, and sustain others with what we learn, God will help us. And in those times when our obedience results in suffering and we feel alone in it, we can call out to the One who walks alongside us and never leaves us. God’s help is the source of our confidence and our hope in the midst of suffering.
Where in your life do you need confidence and hope?
Oh God, teach us to trust that you remember us, hear our cries, bend down to us, and will never leave our side. May my face be set like flint to obey your direction. I trust in your unfailing love. Amen.
Sumarme Goble
Worship and Prayer
As we prepare our heart in this Lent, this psalm addresses how one could fully live toward the way God intends us to follow. In addition to reading the word of the Lord, the psalmist emphasizes “treasuring” the word and seeking God with our whole heart. I would interpret this as not just learning the Bible and doing nothing wrong, but embracing the way of the Lord by actively experiencing it. Furthermore, doing so makes the psalmist “delight” in the way of God’s decrees—when “I should” turns into “I want to”, your heart would align with God, and ultimately, you would let God work through you on Earth.
The question is how to achieve such a state of mind in this modern, busy world. We are constantly exposed to a variety of values and goods in person and online. What is more, our hearts themselves carry their own ego and desires that may or may not align with God. This is where worship and prayers come in—regular worship creates some space for us to be present at this moment and in this place, and reconnect with God; through prayers we can ask the Holy Spirit for Their guidance so that we can spiritually understand and act on the word of the Lord. Let us make the most of this Lent through worship and prayers to gladly follow God’s path with Their light and guidance.
Thank you Lord for pouring your love on us even when our eyes are away from you. We are grateful to you for letting us return to you and seek you. Please guide our soul to embrace Your words and act on them, so that we delight in Your way and gladly let You work through us on Earth. Amen.
Ricky Mizuta
Fully Known
One of the scariest parts, I think, of being alive is the fear of never being truly known. We want to be understood completely, but we hide away the parts of us that we don’t want others to see. The parts that are quick to judge, or anger, or ignore, or put things off, or indulge, or forget remain desperately tucked away. It gets heavy, and there’s a constant nagging fear of losing relationships if we slip up even a little bit. Like when company comes over and accidentally opens the overstuffed closet that I hastily shoved all my mess into 5 minutes before they arrived, worried that my friends might leave if (heaven forbid!) they know that sometimes there are dishes in the sink and laundry on the floor.
For me at least, shoving my less-desirable traits down and away only means that they have tendency to resurface when I’m not careful. And that my metaphorical messy bits never truly get better because I spend so much more time trying to hide them than heal them. It’s exhausting to constantly keep hiding the many, tiny broken pieces that I don’t like and keeping the better bits front and center.
Keeping Jeremiah 31:31-34 in mind for the past few weeks has given me a new gratitude for a God who sees every part of me- the good, bad, and ugly- and yet covenants to remain my unchanging God. Knowing that I can and will be forgiven takes the shame and fear out of making mistakes. We don’t have to hide anything away, it’s nothing God hasn’t seen before! Despite our tendency to break promises, stumble in wickedness, and get lost, God promises to take us by the hand and save us anyways. God doesn’t expect us to shove everything in the closet before He comes over. He has no problem meeting us in our mess and helping with the dishes.
This passage reminds us that we can unpack our sins gently and hold them out to our God who can heal them. Our God wants to be known by us, and knows us completely. If we search the deepest parts of us, we will find God’s laws written there. God’s ways are carved into our minds and hearts, beating against our ribs. This passage reminds me that perhaps we don’t need to maintain a perfect facade and live in fear that God or others might unearth the bad parts. Instead, we can feel confident knowing that God loves us in our imperfection and knows us fully. The more we know God, the less we have to hide.
Loving God, thank you that You know us and love us completely. Help us to know You, as we are fully known. Amen
Hannah Stevenson
Freedom, Here and Now
Obviously, the exciting part of this story is the serpents. The Hebrew words are peculiar and hard to translate, so there’s endless fun trying to figure out just what kind of creatures are biting the Israelites—the footnote in most Bibles tells us they could be “fiery serpents,” which captures the imagination.
Then there’s the cure, the “bronze serpent.” The language and imagery are complicated here, too. And for us Christians, it’s even more so because Jesus uses it to talk about himself and his death on the cross (John 3:14). I’ve never been quite sure what to do with that. I have some ideas, but it always feels just out of my complete grasp—which is probably about right, theologically speaking.
That’s all interesting and complicated and worthy of deeper reflection. But what’s got my attention in this Lenten season is the thing that puts the people at odds with God. Specifically, when they say: “Why have you brought us up out of Egypt to die in the wilderness? For there is no food and no water, and we detest this miserable food.”
It’s not that they don’t actually have any food. They just don’t like what they’ve got. And their failure of gratitude has them daydreaming about going back to being slaves, where at least they got their daily rations. How often do we spend our time wishing for something other than what we have, more than what we’ve been given, even to the point that we would be willing to sacrifice our freedom to get it? Does our desire for something in the past, or an imagined future, keep us from paying attention to—even delighting in—God’s freedom here and now?
Lord, help us to lean into Your freedom, instead of yearning for a past that enslaves, or a future that eludes. Let us walk more and more in Your love, trusting that You are with us and for us in the wilderness, every bit as much as in the Promised Land. Amen.
Aaron Miller
May We Perceive You
God’s ways and wisdom are beyond human understanding. Apostle Paul quotes from the Old Testament (Isaiah 29:14) to emphasize that God’s ways transcend our understanding and the message of the cross challenges conventional notions of power and wisdom. The passage suggests that intelligence can run an interference in comprehending the message of the Gospel and indeed trusting God’s plan for the world.
God seems to confound human sensibility with something foolish or overly simple. This serves to humble the intellectual pride of humanity and point to the divine knowing and nature of God’s plan, embodied in the act of Jesus’ sacrifice.
God of Mystery, may we perceive You with open hearts before discerning minds. May we accept the wonder and wisdom of your heavenly plan here on earth, and answer the call to be faithful to You. Amen
Kirsten Bowles
To be Seen
Only lately have I become more comfortable with being “seen”, as it were, by others, and myself. Odd, I know, given my four plus decades on earth. This comfort with scrutiny and self awareness, or “light”, is one John calls us to. His gospel tells us that evil doers “hate the light” (3:20) and won’t come into it, because they don’t want their sinful deeds revealed. They “love” the comfort of their “darkness” and sin.
I take John’s metaphorical “light” to mean being seen by God, and to see ourselves as God does. Something that takes place in self-awareness and reflection. What’s tricky though, is that we often mistake God’s view for our own, and if that view is colored by a critical inner voice (shoulds, shame, and guilt), we are trapped in the dark, all the while thinking we are in the light.
And goodness, it’s easy to stay in the dark. It’s comfortable and familiar. Numbing even. If we think the light is a painful awareness of our persistent faults, why would we want to step into it?
But while we might blink a little painfully in adjusting to God’s promised light, that discomfort is temporary—or should be. God promises us love, life, and forgiveness, and release from sin, shame, and guilt.
This grace can be hard to accept, especially as the rain of “shoulds” falls around us, from ourselves and others: we should pray more, be more loving, do more charitable works, give more—the weight of expectations can feel heavy. Overwhelming even. Defeating.
But we don’t have to earn God’s grace. How easy it is to think we do.
So remember God’s promise: believe in the son of God, who was sent not to judge, but to save, even—and especially—from the darkness we inflict upon ourselves.
God, may we trust in your mercy every day and let it work in us, to absolve us of shame and guilt, that we might fully respond to your call to follow you into the light and seek the life you promise us. Amen.
Erin Tarbuck
Love that Gives Us Ourselves
Nourish beginnings, let us nourish beginnings.
Not all things are blest, but the
seeds of all things are blest.
The blessing is in the seed.
This moment, this seed, this wave of the sea, this look, this instant of love.
Years over wars and an imagining of peace. Or the expiation journey
toward peace which is many wishes flaming together,
fierce pure life, the many-living home.
Love that gives us ourselves, in the world known to all
new techniques for the healing of the wound,
and the unknown world. One life, or the faring stars.
- Elegy in Joy [excerpt], Muriel Rukeyser
God plants seeds in the garden of life and from the moment we spring from our seed, we are blessed.
From there, the choice lies with us.
With our one life, we make countless choices: some lead towards love and healing, and some towards sickness and death. Wars are fought in our daily lives, in our communities, and in faraway countries. We decide how we proceed and how we imagine peace.
But no matter what choices we make or have made, the Lord is with us. His steadfast love endures forever. He redeems us when we cry out to Him in our trouble. His love heals us and makes us known to ourselves and the world.
May we make Him known to the world for His wondrous works.
May we praise and give thanks to the Lord, for He is good.
Courtney Reynolds
A Perpetual Invitation
Every time I reread this passage, it’s the commandment on idol worship that plagues my brain. Maybe it’s because some of the other commands seem easier to follow and this one seems impossibly difficult. Maybe it’s because I memorized a ten commandment song as a kid (this one if you’re interested) in church and the phrase “graven image” seemed especially sinful to me. Maybe it’s because idol worship is a big hurdle in this Jesus way of living.
I’m so easily wooed by new, shiny things that distract me from God, things that fill my time, things that change me and mould me—things that are perhaps not a big deal on their own but eventually, when added up, I notice they’ve blocked me from following Jesus with my whole heart, mind, soul, and body. Each idol requiring me to bow down to someone or something other than the Redeemer of the universe. And these idols are big and small, ranging from a goofy video game called Airlines Manager Tycoon (that has consumed my free time) to a gargantuan one, achievement (which perhaps is part of an early mid-life crisis).
Saying my idols out loud is almost embarrassing, because I can picture Jesus’ face responding to this confession with a look of deep love but also, “really Daniel, that’s what has your attention?”
Perhaps at this point, I should know better, but then he gets up and motions for me to follow him, which requires me to leave those idols behind—a perpetual invitation rooted in unfathomable grace.
Admitting what has our attention, what John Wesley describes as “any thing or priority to which one's heart is given rather than to God” is crucial in our Christian formation.
So what has your attention? Confess that to Jesus and invite him to respond.
Almighty and eternal God,
so draw my heart to you,
so guide my mind,
so fill my imagination,
so control my will,
that I maty be wholly yours,
utterly devoted to you.
Then use me, I pray,
as you will,
always to your glory
and for the welfare of your people,
though our Lord
and Savior Jesus Christ,
Amen.
(A Liturgy for the Increase of Devotion from Every Moment Holy, Volume III)
Daniel Martin
Beauty and Stillness
Interpreting Psalm 19 from the perspective of the world today, I reflect on two concepts: one, the role of nature in an era centred around technology, distraction and noise; and; two, the shifting values of moral and ethical standards.
The psalm’s description of heaven points to the glory of God and is a reminder of the perfection of the natural world around us. Today, we are in a constant state of information overload. This scripture reminds us that we can find pleasure in the beauty and stillness of God’s natural world, even amongst this chaos. We can search – and find – peace and harmony reflected perfectly by nature.
O Lord, thank you for the beauty of your creation, let it guide us in wisdom and righteousness, that we may appreciate and find joy in all that is around us and to see with wide eyes your handiwork in every sunset, flower and marvellous creature. Amen.
Gordie Bowles
Bright Sadness
Part of the fun work of putting together the Salt of the Earth: A Christian Seasons Calendar is sifting through the submissions of artwork and picking our favourites to defend when we come together as a group to make our final decision. Sometimes this process is easy, when an artist will capture and illustrate a season evocatively and we can all agree on the selection, but usually there are too many good images, too many talented artists, and we have to persuade each other of our choices with a good argument. And the image we ultimately chose for the Lent page this year, Conviction of the Spirit by Maryann Leake, was in need of a good argument!
Usually, when artists image-ine Lent for us, we receive submissions of depictions of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness, bleak landscapes, illustrations in dull or dark colours with penitent moods, many purple abstractions. We expect Lent to look like we’re lingering on Ash Wednesday as a sombre, 40-day memento mori, or like the first part of Psalm 22 which Jesus references on the cross, a slow wasting away to dust. Leake’s worshipper, cast in vibrant yellow with hands raised in praise and eyes closed in prayer, is not what we expect Lent to look like.
The psalmist’s worship runs through Psalm 22 but it gets overshadowed by the psalmist’s groaning when we read it on Good Friday, when we’re present to the details of Jesus fulfilling the scripture; the umbra of the suffering of Christ. We must somehow hold together the solemnity of the cross, the psalmist’s crying out to the LORD in agony and desperation, with the joy of the glory of salvation, the psalmist’s praise and proclamation of hope.
An argument for choosing Leake’s image is an idea from the Eastern Orthodox tradition of Lent as a “bright sadness,” a paradox that captures the fact of the cross. The worshipper is standing in light, lit from all angles: a halo surrounds the figure and the person’s face is directed at the source of the light. And though the face is not downcast, the expression isn’t happy either; there is a seriousness that makes a bit of shadow show up in the person’s closed eyes. Are the raised and open hands in awe or surrender? Does the ashy sign of the cross on the forehead say more about the fleetingness of mortal life, or the eternal hope of our faith? Standing in awe of God, remembering and turning to God, telling about God, we, along with the psalmist, proclaim God’s deliverance in this season, acknowledge its bright sadness, and say with the whole great congregation that God has indeed done it.
Eternal God, we both bow down in humility and stand up in awe of Your glory in this heart-breaking and heart-filling season. Count us among those who seek You, praise You, serve You, and live for You by the grace and mercy of Jesus, in whose holy name we pray. Amen.
Kate Miller