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In one of the mystical traditions of the early church, it was thought that Jesus gave birth – literally – as he died on the cross, the birth marked by the blood and water that flowed from his side. But what, exactly, is born? I’m afraid, sometimes, of this ‘awesome mystery,’ and its implications because of what I sometimes begin to comprehend, even in the merest of glimpses.

This Maundy Thursday, I invite you to reflect on how God has shown up in your own life. Who are the people who loved you into healing and wholeness? Who are those who welcomed you or showed you unconditional love? And who is God calling you to show up for?

Had it been up to me, Holy Week would have already ended – with Palm Sunday – the day we celebrated Jesus’ triumph over sin, death, and the devil.

And yet, here we are, edging closer and closer not to a triumphant victory over earthly powers, but to a violent execution and act so selfless and loving that not even the powers of hell could stand against it.

This Tuesday in Holy Week, I invite you to consider the times God's resurrection life has surprised you, or how out of a grief experience God created something new.

What is this week all for? Many of us look at the weekly schedule and see… so many things, and a few worship services on top of them. It can sometimes seem like it’s a bit overkill to do these services.

Yet this is the week. THE week which celebrates God’s unrelenting love, Christ’s solemn unity with humanity and unspeakable suffering, and the Holy Spirit’s persistent gentleness, breathing life again.

As we prepare to enter into Palm/Passion Sunday, I invite you to reflect on the ways that this day encompasses a wide spectrum of human experience: from praise to denial, joy to fear, and palm waving to stone throwing.

Jesus did not have to suffer. He did not have to endure the mocking, the betrayal, the shame, and injustice of it all. He, though he was God, emptied himself and became obedient to the point of death. And the beauty of this reality about the God whom we worship is that this is the truth of love.

I find this Jesus, the suffering servant, to be welcoming and comforting – one who stretches his arms wide on the cross, willingly bearing suffering and evil knowing that the resurrection dawn will certainly come.

This year the suffering servant text struck me differently – struck me almost in the way Rocky Balboa gets struck over and over in the famous movie franchise Rocky.

In anticipation of Palm Sunday, and in the aftermath of yet another shooting, today’s devotion is a poem written b Pr. Katy Stenta. Hosanna, a dangerous prayer indeed.

Someone said to me just the other day, “The church mayyyyy be broken.”

I can’t say I totally disagree, as there is so much about our church that simply doesn’t work anymore, or that sorta, kinda works, but desperately needs transformation.

It has been a difficult few weeks for me, particularly as I watch the civil rights of my LGBTQ siblings stripped away. It has been difficult to assure my children that it will be ok when they saw the news report of Russia’s downing of a US drone when I have no power to give that assurance. Or to again think of the thousands living in the aftermath of earthquakes and war, to hear stories of Afghani women and girls still banned from education and work.

[Jesus] cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!” The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Many of the Jews therefore, who had come with Mary and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him. - John 11.43

Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world. These words are familiar – the creed we speak in community, boldly proclaimed as one when the body of Christ gathers in worship.

Today is the commemoration of Archbishop Oscar Romero, a Salvadoran priest who was assassinated while standing behind the altar as he prepared to preside at mass. He is known as a martyr and prophet, using his voice to speak out against the human rights violations of the people of El Salvador. As we look at Bp. Romero’s life, it is easy to see that indeed the Spirit dwelt within him, and even with the daily threat of death and violence he continued to speak boldly to the powers that oppressed the Salvadorans.

Have you ever felt the satisfaction of bringing something to life? Maybe you had an idea that became reality maybe, or a seed (literal or figurative) planted and grown?

I often marvel at the power we humans have to create life, and was struck this year as we have been reimagining different aspects of our faith, how Ezekiel plays a role in this story of the valley of dry bones.