Today I focus on the incredible sacrifice of Jesus on my behalf. I rise at my normal hour and find the Divine Hours readings for today - very apropos. I curl up with my prayer journal and reflect on the events of Holy Week so long ago, yet still so fresh. We are blessed to have the day off work and I plan to focus on the events that unfolded so many years ago. When I was in high school, the whole town would come to a noon service that lasted until 3 pm, and we relived the happenings of Jesus' death, including the words spoken from the cross. We would hear the scripture read, sing a hymn about it, then sit in quiet meditation, thinking on our relationship with God until the next word was introduced. It was a profound time for reviewing.
Noon is fast approaching. I encourage Drew to come with me to the downtown Asbury United Methodist Church. Their observance has always been significant to me, packed as it is with Scripture readings, artwork and choral music. There are new ways to think about these events, glimpses into how people have interpreted them in the past, in other cultures, under duress. This year offers a global perspective - art work from other countries and other traditions. Interesting juxtapositions of local color and familiar story. It makes me wonder how much North American New England 1950s baggage I carry into the story. More than I realize, I am certain.
Once again the music is stellar - a hand selected ensemble of Eastman singers who are just amazing. I know they only get one run through, but they sound like they have been singing these songs for months. This year they weave a bit of the whole life of Christ into the passion story, the background as it were. I know a program such as this takes hours of planning and work, but it is so worthwhile.
There is much to think about as Drew and I head home for lunch. Later at night we head for St Bernard's and the Community of the Savior service. I am touched when they bring artifacts to the altar, reminders of Christ and his amazing life. How shocking to see the dead Christmas tree stripped of its ornaments and fashioned into a rough cross, a crown of thorns placed where the star used to be. How moving to think on the weaving of joyous occasions mingled with the sorrow of death. How like life.
It has been a long and thoughtful day. I curl up in bed with my Divine Hours and read Vespers and Compline in one fell swoop. God grant us all a night of sweet rest while we await the resurrection.
Noon is fast approaching. I encourage Drew to come with me to the downtown Asbury United Methodist Church. Their observance has always been significant to me, packed as it is with Scripture readings, artwork and choral music. There are new ways to think about these events, glimpses into how people have interpreted them in the past, in other cultures, under duress. This year offers a global perspective - art work from other countries and other traditions. Interesting juxtapositions of local color and familiar story. It makes me wonder how much North American New England 1950s baggage I carry into the story. More than I realize, I am certain.
Once again the music is stellar - a hand selected ensemble of Eastman singers who are just amazing. I know they only get one run through, but they sound like they have been singing these songs for months. This year they weave a bit of the whole life of Christ into the passion story, the background as it were. I know a program such as this takes hours of planning and work, but it is so worthwhile.
There is much to think about as Drew and I head home for lunch. Later at night we head for St Bernard's and the Community of the Savior service. I am touched when they bring artifacts to the altar, reminders of Christ and his amazing life. How shocking to see the dead Christmas tree stripped of its ornaments and fashioned into a rough cross, a crown of thorns placed where the star used to be. How moving to think on the weaving of joyous occasions mingled with the sorrow of death. How like life.
It has been a long and thoughtful day. I curl up in bed with my Divine Hours and read Vespers and Compline in one fell swoop. God grant us all a night of sweet rest while we await the resurrection.
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