Grenada, Nicaragua.
Thinking of all of you today, preaching the 7 last words (which a clever pigeon recently informed me are, “We’ve always done it this way”!), gathering beloveds around you in the breaking of the bread, the proclaiming of the mystery, and the encountering of the terrible violence that can only be overcome by the inbreaking realm of God in the heart and in society.
May you feel the Holy Presence around you most intensely these next days as you tell the story, make it real, and communicate its urgency to today’s Christians, seekers and skeptics.
May someone who loves you be there (in person or maybe on-line or over the phone) to hear your mindless jabber at the end of a long day, share some comforting words with you, and bless you as you put your head on that pillow for a well-deserved rest.
May you nourish your body with good food, and enough of it at regular intervals to fuel you.
May your toothpaste not fall on your tie, your nylons not run, and your voice get a frog in it in the pulpit. May no one draw you aside immediately following the three-hour service to talk about the stewardship campaign or the repairs to the furnace, and may your shoes not hurt.
May your children not vomit in the car on the way to church, or you leave the manuscript for your sermon at home. May the casserole not burn while you are out of the house, and may the dog not have chewed the handle off your briefcase. May your tires not go flat.
May you get no news of anything more serious than someone wanting to make an appointment to visit with you about a wedding or a christening, or something else happy.
May your suit be back from the dry cleaner on time, and the Easter egg dye not make your fingers look as though you have a worrisome skin condition.
May you love this ministry, as the God who called you to it loves you.
Walking with you all on this most dreadful of days. Be careful driving, as it is a strain on any disciple to have our hearts and minds in that day 2,000 years ago as we struggle to keep our eyes on the road in 2012. Be safe.
Thanks for this, Bubbeleh. I need all those blessings, even though we’re just doing a fairly regular Sunday service without anything leading up. One day, I will work at a Maundy Thursday and Good Friday translation for the crowd I’m serving. It’s hard to cram all of that depth into a Sunday.
For those doing all of those other services, bless you, indeed. It reminds me of when my rabbi friend described for me the marathon she went through for the High Holy Days, (5 sermons in 10 days, plus her own intense, personal soul-searching as part of her yearly practice). I pictured myself ringside, in the corner, and when she came out between rounds, I would squirt water over her head, rub her shoulders and push her back in for more. I think you just did that for folks.
Thank you for your prayers. And, if your day is going like mine, may you have an abundance of safety pins and a secretary willing to bring her sewing kit to the church when she comes back from lunch.
Thank you. Struggling to put love so amazing, so divine into human words is harder each time you try to do it, not easier. And as one who has tried to “do” Easter as a pastor and a Mommy, I know how important these blessings are. Blessings to all in these most blessed days.
Thank you for this. I am home from our Good Friday service, which is always so moving. Received word of a death in the community and even though she was not a member of our church, she is still beloved by many and it is a sad day. Now I will curl up on the bed and have a nap.
My God’s blessing surround you and all who read this as well…
Oops! Waiting for Trustee to come open my house since I left the car keys (where I have an extra house key) and the house key (where I have an extra car key) inside!!! Too much haste to get to the next service! [Aw, sweetie!! I hope you have caught your breath by now! That’s the worst feeling! – PB]
Thank you for this. Once the admin asst was gone and I had the place to myself, I walked into the nave and was overcome by the sense of gratitude for what I get to do. Ten minutes earlier, I was lamenting what was still undone, but after that prayer time and this prayer I feel renewed to finish the race. Blessings to you in this ministry to all of us.
May you not burn the church down when you throw away what seem to be cold ashes from the censor.
Thank you for all these blessings…we have the Paschal Triduum of services on Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and the Easter Vigil on Saturday. It’s a marathon for sure.
This year I was adamant that I would not schedule anything but liturgy in Holy Week. And it worked…also because I ended up with bronchitis. But, the meds seem to be working, the congregation “felt” the service and discovered the need to enter and exit in silence (first time ever).
This year has been a helluva journey in our community and with the setting down of a black stone at the foot of the cross and picking up a white stone to carry as a talisman for the next year, we are all washed anew in the perfect love of one who died willingly and lovingly but yet gruesomely and painfully.
May we never belittle or forget his sacrifice.
Holy Week blessings to each and every one of you.
Thanks for the blessings. I am going to quit worrying about the details of the Passover Seder this evening and my Easter services, and go for a walk. [I AFFIRM that decision, big time. Love, matzoh and maror to you, dearest. – PB]