Tag: Holy Week

Something to Cling to

The forecasted rain has yet to arrive, so I head to the garden to water my emerging plants. The garlic thrives, the beets have yet to emerge, but this morning I am drawn to the sugar snaps. Their fragile tendrils reach into the air in search of something solid. Once found, they wrap themselves around the bars of the supports and hold on as if their life depends on it. Once secure on one rung, the plants grow ever upward.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Easter traditions of a meal with family? New Spring clothes to herald warmer weather? The laughter of little children discovering eggs filled with treats? What does Easter mean to you?

The Church offers many ways to observe Holy week – The waving of branches and singing of Hosanna; Holy communion in remembrance of the last supper, Passion plays and the stripping of the church, gatherings in the garden, sunrise services, and exuberant Easter celebrations. The known world was changed forever by the actions of this small group of people in a remote backwater. Because they clung to the eternal support shown to them on Easter morning. Jesus the Christ rose from the dead.

There are lots of big words and complex theologies about the why and the how, about who Jesus was and is, about God’s nature and divine will and the Word. We want to understand that which is so much more complicated and complex and powerful than we are. But perhaps faith is best expressed in a story.

The story of a man who claimed to be the Son of God and was put to death for it. And on the third day, on that non-descript Sunday morning, he rose from the dead, proving that his claims were true.

That is what we can cling to. God did something amazing, unbelievable even. But it happened.

For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with he scriptures, and that he was buried, and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures, and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, although some have died. Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 1 Corinthians 15:3-7.

Christ has died. Christ is risen. Christ will come again.

We are about to commemorate the beauty of the last supper, Jesus’ obedience in Gethsemane, the horrors of the crucifixion, the despair at his death. It can be tempting to live in that space, to cling to his suffering and his humanity. When we are suffering, it helps to know he suffered as well, even more so than we suffer now. We remember him washing Judas’ feet, dining with him, offering him bread and wine, and know he offers this to us sinners as well.

We can absorb the horrors of Holy Week because we cling to the truth of Easter Sunday.

The wind has been gusty for days now. An outdoor picnic led to plates blown off the table and toys blown across the yard. We were clipping the tablecloth to the table and weighting the boxes of egg dye.

The sugar snaps were unaffected by the wind gusts. They held firm, clinging to the truth of the trellises offered to them.

This is Holy Week. What are you clinging to?

Love in Christ, Betsy

Good Gifts

The sugar snaps are up, the grass is green, and all the fallen limbs have been removed. Chilly mornings lead to warm afternoons, and Spring is in the air. While the changing weather and blooming trees wreak havoc on my sinuses and force me to keep tissues handy, I love this time of year.

Spring is as if God is rewarding me for surviving freezing rains and arctic blasts and the barren landscape. I did not give up hope. I planted seeds in anticipation of warmer weather. The time for sleeping is over – wake little bunny! (One of my granddaughter’s favorite songs.)

Now new plants dot my yard and my garden like Easter eggs waiting to be discovered. Will they grow? What will they look like? How will they taste? Like Jesus’ followers in this passion week, I know change is coming. Something marvelous is about to happen, but it may not be what I thought it would be. It may not even look all that marvelous at first. I have never planted beets or rhubarb before. I may not even recognize the leaves when they break through the ground and begin to grow.

There are times the unknown scares me. I will research what rhubarb and beet plants look like, but that is different from seeing them. Jesus had told his disciples repeatedly what awaited him in Jerusalem, but they still found themselves unprepared and afraid. Not until they saw His risen person could they rejoice in the amazing gift God had given them, given us. But this week, Holy Week, we watch in fear and hope for what God is doing in our midst.

My garden is a pale comparison, a hazy glimpse into God’s love of surprising us with wonderful gifts. Each seed, each root is like an easter egg waiting to be found and opened, hiding its secret gift for me to find.

If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matthew 7:11.

I know these emerging plants are good gifts given by God. Their healthy green leaves face the sun; their tendrils reach for the trellises set around them. They seem joyful, eager to get on with growing taller and bearing fruit. They are growing in fluctuating temperatures and windy days. They are growing in the sure knowledge that they are becoming what God intended them to be – bearers of delicious sugar snaps.

Can I say the same?

Holy Week brings all our emotions into play. Praise and adoration, fear and uncertainty, sorrow and despair, disbelief and amazement, joy and hope. A whirlwind climaxing in the resurrection of Jesus proving Him to be the Son of God, the Son of Man, the Christ. What an amazing gift hidden for those of us who believe, our Savior, the most wonderful gift of all.

These sugar snaps, the greening grass, the warmer temperatures, these are all gifts from a generous and loving God. The encouragement I take from these little plants is a gift as well, as is the anticipation of discovering new plants and new recipes. I suspect He has good gifts in store for you as well. They may be hidden in plastic eggs, scattered across the landscape for us to find. We may not know the gift until we open the egg, plant the seed, try the new thing. We may not know the gift until we have passed through fear, uncertainty, sorrow, or despair. But God gives us good gifts. Keep looking.

Now to him who by the power at work within us is able to accomplish abundantly far more than all we can ask or imagine, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations, forever and ever. Amen.

Love in Christ, Betsy