Lenten Poetry: Easter Day

Easter

Just when I thought
there would be no more light
in the Jerusalem sky,
the Bright and Morning Star
appeared
and the darkness has not overcome it.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 40

Saturday Silence

The shadows shift and fly.
The
whole
long
day
the air trembles,
thick with silence,
until, finally,
the footsteps are heard,
and the noise
of the voice of God
is upon us.
The Holy One
is not afraid
to walk
on unholy ground.
The Holy Work is done,
and the world awaits
the dawn of Life.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 39

Friday

The sky peels back to purple
and thunder slaps the thighs of heaven,
and all the tears of those who grieve
fly up to clouds and are released
and drench the earth.
The ones who see and hear
know
that all is lost.
The only One named Savior
died
upon a cross.
The ones who believed and loved
huddle together
stunned.
All night long
the angels weep.

--Ann Weems

Clean Feet

John 13:1-17, 31b-35

We have traveled through 38 of our 40 days of Lent. And today our journey brings us to Maundy Thursday. Today Jesus begins to say goodbye before he journeys to the cross. In the gospels of Matthew, Mark, and Luke the institution of the Lord’s Supper, the body and blood, is the last thing Jesus did with his disciples before his death. However, in the book of John we do not get that story. Instead the way that Jesus says goodbye to his disciples is to reinforce one of his most important lessons. He washes their feet and gives them a new commandment to love others.

I remember when I was in high school I received a phone call from my pastor. He wanted to do a symbolic foot washing at our Maundy Thursday worship service. And he wanted to wash my feet. I remember being very surprised by this and wondering why he wanted to wash my feet. Even as a high school student it was a moving experience, to have my pastor kneeling down to wash my feet. I think that is when I started to have a greater appreciation for foot washing.

While I was a camp counselor I typically read this text of Jesus washing the disciples’ feet and washed my campers’ feet. They were always a bit nervous about it, but inevitably by the end of the foot washing one of my campers would come to me and ask to wash my feet. And then I would let some young girl kneel beside my bed and wash my feet. And my feet were never very clean; after all I was a camp counselor. I wore sandals everyday and walked around on dusty and dirty paths and my daily one minute showers never seemed to get my feet clean.

I imagine that the disciples’ feet were not very clean either. After all they walked around in sandals day after day following their teacher Jesus. They walked on dirty paths in the heat of the day and even when they bathed I am sure their feet didn’t come very clean. It was typical when one visited the home of a friend to be greeted with hospitality. Typical hospitality would include washing the feet of the visitors who had usually walked a great distance to reach their destination. Usually the servant would wash the visitors’ feet. But Jesus turns this act of hospitality upside down. He, the master, kneels at the feet of his friends and washes their dirty, tired feet.

Today Jesus kneels in front of us and asks to wash our feet. That requires us to become vulnerable and to show a part of us that we often keep covered up. That requires us to take off our socks and our shoes and show our Savior our dirty, calloused feet. Jesus wants to touch our feet regardless of what they look like or how they smell. Jesus wants to cleanse our feet so that we can follow him and walk with him to the cross. He does not want to walk alone. He is requesting our company on the rest of the journey.

Our feet have the potential for good and for evil. If left alone, our feet can lead us to follow our own wants and desires. Our feet are the way in which we put our thoughts, feelings, and ideas into action. If we want to walk with Jesus for the rest of journey, if we want to go the way Jesus goes, which is the way of service and love, we need to allow him to wash our feet. To allow Jesus to cleanse our feet is to remove all that prevents us from using our feet to follow him, to scrub away our insecurities, to wash away our weariness, to buff off our bitterness. After letting Jesus wash our feet we are able to accompany him on the journey to the cross.

Jesus is also inviting the disciples to follow his example. After washing the disciples’ feet he tells them to wash one another’s feet. And then he gives them a new commandment, to love one another as Jesus had loved them. Jesus invites us to follow his example, too. He tells us to wash one another’s feet. He gives us a new commandment, to love one another as Jesus has loved us.

Today people who live on the streets of Philadelphia gathered outside for worship, communion, and foot washing. Many of them are served by the ministry of The Welcome Church, an ELCA congregation in downtown Philadelphia. Several doctors, students, and administrators from the Temple University School of Podiatric Medicine who plan to begin a program of regular foot care and treatment for homeless people this summer will join the community for this service of foot washing. Towels and socks will be handed out at worship, too. I think this community is really living what it means to love others as Jesus loves us. They are literally washing the feet of others and showing a great deal of love while doing it.

“You also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.” May we have the courage to follow the example of Jesus in both word and deed: washing the feet of others, helping others buff off what keeps them from following Jesus, smiling at strangers, praying for our enemies, feeding the hungry, speaking out against injustice, and loving others as Jesus has loved us. And as we prepare to accompany Jesus on his journey may we allow him to scrub our feet and our hearts clean, too. Amen.

Lenten Poetry: Day 38

Holy Communion

Eat. Drink. Remember
who I am.

Eat. Drink. Remember
who I am
so you can remember
who you are.

Eat. Drink. Remember
who I am
so you can remember
who you are
and tell the others.

Eat. Drink. Remember
who I am
so you can remember
who you are
and tell the others
so that all
God's people
can live
in communion...
in holy communion.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 37

No Dances

There are no dances for dark days.
There is no music to bellow the pain.
The best we can do is to remain
still and silent
and try to remember the face of God...

and how to kneel

and how to pray.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 36

Jesus Weeping Over Jerusalem

There is but one face
whose holy eyes
won't turn away,
but focus on us
and weep...

Jesus, you!
like a mother hen
yearning to gather us to you,
but we would not...
for we have killed the prophets
and stoned the messengers.

Now abandoned and empty,
the stones of the temple
waiting to fall
around our ankles
we still do not come
to you,
and, even now,
you weep.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 35

The Fear And Feeding Of The Sheep

We have nothing against Jerusalem;
in fact, it's the place to be
on a sunny Easter morning.
It's Golgotha that we fear;
and yet, we've been to church enough
to know that the way to Jerusalem
leads through Good Friday.
Keeping covenant
means keeping covenant under a cross
as well as by and empty garden tomb.
What we'd like to do, of course,
is wave palms and shout Hosanna
and then rest up
for the Hallelujah Chorus.
We dismiss the others as religious fanatics,
who wallow in the woe of Holy Week!
O Lamb of God, Lamb of God, Lamb of God,
feed us!

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 34

Counting The Cost

The end begins
with a woman
who poured perfume
upon his head.
She poured it lavishly,
without counting the cost.
The disciples were angry;
the perfume could have been
sold
and the money
given
to the poor.
Where have I heard that tune before?

Oh, what trouble we have with gifts and giving!
You want to tell me
how much and when and to whom
and I want to tell you
my way of giving is better than yours.
What Jesus told the disciples and us
is:
An extravagance of the heart
is a fine and beautiful thing.

Why is it that this one is so hard for us?

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 33

Even Now

She stands
beneath his dying
and will not be persuaded to leave,
despite the urgings of others.
They huddle against her
in an effort to hold her
against the pain,
but she stands erect,
unleaning,
her eyes upon his face.
From the hillside
the sounds of weeping and wailing
hang heavy in the air,
but she who held him
in a stable in Bethlehem
stands silent
beneath his cross in Jerusalem,
her heart pondering still,
her soul magnifying the Lord,
her spirit praising God,
knowing even now
that she is blessed among women.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 32

The Way To Jerusalem

The pilgrims trudge
toward the death of God.
Only with bowed heads and closed eyes
will they be able to see
the way to Jerusalem.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 31

A Gate Called Truth

Just outside Jerusalem
we came to a gate called Truth.
We called to the gatekeeper
to let us in.
"The latch is not on," he replied.
"Anyone who will can enter."
We went closer,
but seeing how great
and how heavy was the gate,
we looked for a way around.
There must be a way around.

--Ann Weems

By Faith...Jesus

Hebrews 12:1-3

For the past four weeks we have heard about some of the heroes of the Bible. We have been inspired by the faith of Noah, Abraham, Moses, and the Israelites. And tonight we encounter the ultimate hero. We encounter Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith.

When I think of pioneers I immediately think of Little House on the Prairie and Laura Ingalls Wilder. This is the story of Laura and her family as they move westward in the late 19^th century. I always thought of them as pioneers, being some of the first people to settle on the land in the Midwest. The word pioneer is also translated as author. Jesus, the pioneer. Jesus, the author. Jesus wrote our story of faith. Jesus was the author. He lived so that the story of faith could begin. Not only did Jesus live so that the story of faith could begin, Jesus died so that the story of faith could be made perfect. Jesus, the perfecter. The word perfecter can also be translated as finisher. Jesus, the finisher. Without Jesus’ death and resurrection the story of faith would not be complete.

It is important to remember that Jesus is the pioneer and perfecter of our faith. However, I also think it is important to remember what Jesus did in-between being an author and a finisher. Jesus’ story is not just about his birth to a virgin named Mary and his death on the cross. Jesus did a whole lot in-between those two events. Jesus preached the good news, loved the whole world, released the captives, fed the hungry, spoke out against injustice, healed the sick, and raised the dead. And then he stretched out his arms on the cross in love for all of us.

The poem “The Dash” by Linda Ellis speaks of the in-between part of life this way, “I read of a man who stood to speak at the funeral of his friend. He referred to the dates on her tombstone from the beginning…to the end. He noted that first came the date of her birth and spoke of the second with tears, but he said that what mattered most of all was the dash between those years.”

You are also an author. You are the author of your life. Everything we are given, including our lives, is a gift. Life happens without our input, but what we do with it is how we live out the dash, which is a choice. The book of your life depends on how you choose to live your story. So, how will you live the dash? How will your story go? The story of faith has already been written, but the story of your life is up to you. Will you run with perseverance the race set before you? And while you run that race, will you be less quick to anger, show appreciation more, treat each other with respect, and smile a little more? Will you love the world, feed the hungry, pray for the sick, speak out against injustice, preach the good news in word and in deed, and be for others a great cloud of witnesses?

When I think about someone who authored their life story well I think about Lance Armstrong, one of the world’s best cyclists. He was diagnosed with cancer, cancer that had spread to several parts of his body. He immediately declared himself a cancer survivor, not a cancer victim. He beat the disease and now is an advocate for people living with cancer. He is beating the odds and writing a good story with his life. He is running the race with perseverance and being part of a great cloud of witnesses to the rest of the world.

Truly we are surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses and we are surrounded by the ultimate witness, the hero, the Christ. So let us lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely. Let us run with perseverance. And let us look to Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of our faith as we author our own story. Amen.

Lenten Poetry: Day 30

Miracle

There's been a call for a miracle,
but Jesus says no:
The only miracle going is Jonah's
Jonah and Jesus in fish and earth,
buried,
then catapulted
to new life.
You want a miracle?
The miracle is in believing.
Ask the Queen of Sheba
or the people of Ninevah.
Then go your way and live forever.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 29

Thank You

Thank you,
Jesus God Spirit
who is Holy
on us.

Anointing us
with amazing love
you dug a dwelling place
and settled
tenaciously
forever amen within us.

Thank you,
Jesus God Spirit
who is Holy
on us
for your incredible grace.

--Ann Weems

Live Like You Are Dying

John 11:1-45

Death. It is really difficult when your friend dies. When your friend dies too soon. Cancer. Car accident. Suicide. I might be young, but I have experienced my fair share of death, to be honest maybe even more than my fair share. In the last 24 years I have been to at least 12 funerals. Funerals of people that are very near and dear to my heart. People that I love whose time on earth has come to an end, sometimes a very abrupt end. And believe me they were hard funerals. Even as someone with a faith background and a framework with which to understand death, I dislike funerals. I dislike death.

Recently the death of a college student has been weighing on my heart. This college student was in his senior year. He loved the outdoors, hunting, and fishing. On one night in February he went out to the bar with his roommate. In the crowded bar they were separated. His roommate wondered where he had went and decided he must have found some other friends. The night went on and still he had not seen him. As he went home he walked back through all the bars in the area looking for his roommate. He made numerous unsuccessful calls to his roommates cell phone. And after returning to their empty apartment he reported the young man to the police as missing. The young man’s body was found the next day in a neighboring town, about 40 miles away next to the train tracks, without a jacket, in South Dakota’s freezing temperatures. I think my brother has felt like Mary and Martha several times since his roommate’s death. I think my brother often wonders, “If I had been there my roommate wouldn’t have died. If I hadn’t separated from him at the bar he would still be alive.”

In our text today we meet up with Mary and Martha, who also dislike death. Their brother Lazarus became ill and Jesus did not make it to Lazarus’ bedside quickly enough. Lazarus died and was wrapped in cloth and placed in his tomb. When Jesus finally arrives, he is first greeted by Martha who is a bit upset with him. She believed that if Jesus had been there Lazarus wouldn’t have died. Jesus tells Martha that Lazarus will rise, but Martha thinks that the resurrection Jesus is speaking about is on the last day, the final resurrection. Jesus says to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Then he asks Martha an important question. He asks if she believes this. Do you believe this, Martha? She says, “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” This conversation with Jesus brings Martha comfort in the midst of her grief after Lazarus’ death.

Mary approaches Jesus with the same comment as Martha, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” And before Jesus could respond Mary started to weep. Jesus’ response to Mary’s tears and to the death of Lazarus is also to cry. Jesus wept. In the same way that we cry, Jesus cried. Jesus was sad. Jesus loved Lazarus. Lazarus wasn’t just some random person; Lazarus was one of Jesus’ friends. Jesus, who believes in the resurrection and eternal life, was weeping at the loss of his friend. And filled with sadness and tears, Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out.” And miraculously Lazarus whose hands and feet were bound with strips of cloth stands up and walks out of the tomb. Jesus tells the crowd to unbind Lazarus. And those who were gathered, who had seen this miracle, believed.

This was a miracle. Lazarus was given physical life. This is not how death typically works today. I have not heard of anyone being raised from the dead recently. However, I think, through death we are given life in a different way. We believe that Jesus is the resurrection and the life. Because we believe that Jesus is the resurrection and life that we’re able to receive life, even in the midst of sudden death. When we are confronted with death we can choose to live differently. That is what I have experienced and witnessed after several deaths like this. I have witnessed people living each day with a little more fervor. I have seen groups of people bond and support each other through these trying times. I have observed people living today without regrets, because they never know when tomorrow might not come.

This type of living reminds me of a country song by Tim McGraw, “Live Like You Were Dying.” This song was dedicated to Tim McGraw’s dad, who was diagnosed with inoperable cancer and given three weeks to live. The lyrics of the chorus are: “I went sky diving, I went rocky mountain climbing, I went two point seven seconds on a bull name Fu Man Chu, and I loved deeper and I spoke sweeter, and I gave forgiveness I’d been denying. And he said: Some day, I hope you get the chance, to live like you were dying.”

In some ways, Jesus is living like he was dying. In the Gospel of John this is the seventh and final sign that Jesus is the Messiah. Next week we begin Holy Week. We boldly accompany our Lord through his final days. We journey to a cross, where our Lord and Savior will be crucified. We journey to another tomb, where Jesus the Christ is laid. Yet, he is the one who is the resurrection and the life. And once again he will show the entire world that death is not final through his own resurrection.

Jesus says to us today, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” Do you believe this? Do you believe this, St. Paul’s? Do you really believe this? May we respond in the same way as Martha, “Yes, Lord [we] believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.” And through believing, may we have the courage to live like we are dying. Amen.

Lenten Poetry: Day 28

To Worship

When the people of God
gather for worship,
the whole earth trembles
and the angels sing.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 27

One Out Of Ten

There was one
who said "Thank you!"
One out of ten...
and Jesus asked:
What happened
to the other nine?
Blessings on that one
who taught us
how to worship.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 26

Our Dreams

Sometimes the pages won't turn
in our book of dreams,
and we are left clinging to a life
we never lived...
just wanted to.
Stuck in the stark reality
of unlived dreams,
we sniffle and tread water,
on we go in search
of the Holy Ones
who will wipe the tears
from our eyes
and offer to us
the only dream
that lives.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 25

Witness

"I am a Christian," one once said to me.
He said it loudly.
I watched and said:
"I shall not be."

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 24

Walking Through Friday

The gift of myrrh
went from manger to cross.
Mary and Joseph said
thank you to the kings,
but Jesus, on the cross,
when offered wine with myrrh,
said no.
There are times when we, too,
must go heartlong into our pain,
knowing it's the only way
we will get to Easter living.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 23

We Pray This Day

O God, we pray this day:

for all who have a song they cannot sing,

for all who have a burden they cannot bear,

for all who live in chains they cannot break,

for all who wander homeless and cannot return,

for those who are sick and for those who tend them,

for those who wait for loved ones and wait in vain,

for those who live in hunger and for those who will not share their bread,

for those who are misunderstood and for those who misunderstand,

for those who are captives and for those who are captors,

for those whose words of love are locked within their hearts and for those who yearn to hear those words.

Have mercy upon these, O God.

Have mercy upon us all.

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 22

Heavenly Nightmare

It is my recurring nightmare
that heaven will be organized,
that some Martha will get there
before I do and will be happily
buzzing about
straightening clouds,
ironing angels' gowns,
starching wing tips,
buffing stars,
and getting ready for the
big hymn sing in the sky.
The nightmare is over
before anyone calls a meeting
and asks me to take minutes.
I'm filled with eternal gratitude...

--Ann Weems

Lenten Poetry: Day 21

Come Unto Me

When the journey gets too hard,
when we feel depleted,
when our compassion
turns to complaining,
when our efforts toward
justice and mercy
seem to get us nowhere,
it's time to remember the humility part --
that it is God who has made us
and not we ourselves;
that the saving of the world
or even one part of it
is not on our shoulders.
It is then we can come unto him,
and he will give us rest.
With rest we'll remember
what it is we are about.

--Ann Weems