Week 12, Pentecost: Citing this week’s readings, what recommendations would you give churches today celebrating the Pentecost?

The Pentecost feast is the climax of the Easter-Pentecost Season. On this day, Christians celebrate the redemptive act in its entirety—from Christ’s death, resurrection and ascension to the sending of the Holy Spirit to empower our ministry and cultivate our relationship with God.[1] This day is an expression of the Joy embodied on Easter Sunday and through Eastertide. Like the Jewish understanding of the covenant of Redemption as a process of participation, to be passed on from one generation to the next[2], Eastertide and Pentecost are celebrations of the human relationship with Jesus Christ. As Brown points out, those who come together for worship enter into a relationship of unity[3] (which, by definition, is inclusive), with all generations of all people.
As Brown stated just a few pages earlier, “Baptism is a public action.”[4] Thus Salvation is collective process; unless we come together as human beings, committing ourselves to each other on an individual and collective level, we cannot know God. As Gilbert Meilaender writes (I’ve quoted it elsewhere, I know.): “to give ourselves to no one and no place in particular is not to be more like God; it is just to fail as a human being.”[5] If the Pentecost feast is a time to rejoice in our relationship with God, it is also a time to celebrate our humanity, to be grateful for this life we have been given and to do what we can to live well, thus turning toward (rather than away from) God.
Aside from the festive meals and bright colors on Pentecost, I would suggest an atmosphere of play. Through play, we develop relations and begin to see each other more fully. Tension is released and joy is found. Play moves beyond, and somehow transcends the tensions between suffering and happiness, between dark and light. It cuts through to what is most intimate, and to what is, most essentially, human.
Another part of Eastertide and Pentecost is the pure physicality of these springs and summer months. In Lent, we have been hibernating, as Persephone deep within the Underworld, or Jesus in the tomb. In “leaving the tomb,” or in returning from the underworld, we must step outside of ourselves and back into the world, working passionately to cultivate the seeds sown in late winter, to plant the gardens planned during Lent. This is physical work, our bodies breathing in light and sweating out toxins. In cultivating our gardens, we revel in pleasure, in the bloom, in beauty and fragrance. We engage in the community, sharing our abundance with others and participating in communal life. We cook feasts with fresh harvest, inviting neighbors to share meals over laughter; we sing songs around fire pits and tell stories on back porches filled with moonlight.

*

As I’m running out of space, I’ll end here with a quotation from an interview with Terry Tempest Williams in The Iowa Review, 1997. I was reminded of this during the second part of our conversation in class today:
“…When we’re in relation, whether it is with a human being with an animal, or with the desert [or God?], I think there is an exchange of the erotic impulse. We are engaged, we are vulnerable, we are both giving and receiving, we are fully present in that moment, and we are able to heighten out capacity for passion which I think is the full range of emotion, both joy and sorrow that one feels when in wild country.” [Perhaps God is wild country, no?]
[1] Handbook 235
[2] Greenberg 68-70
[3] Brown 285
[4] Brown 281
[5] Meilaender, 18: Meilaender, Gilbert. 1997. “Creatures of Place and Time: Reflections on Moving.” First Things, April: 17-23.

Holy Saturday

these photos, paired with this reflection...

Week 11: Holy Week II

Week 11, Holy Week II: Citing this week’s readings, what recommendations would you give churches today celebrating Easter Sunday and Eastertide?

In “The Origins of Easter” Paul Bradshaw points out that the modern day Easter celebration has evolved from two separate ancient traditions. One feast tradition (practiced by the “Quartodecimans”) memorializes the suffering and death of Christ. The other celebrates Christ’s passage from death to life.[1] While the latter tradition is understood to be more universal than the first (as it celebrates Christ’s resurrection rather than memorializing his death), it is important to recognize that modern day practices of Easter have evolved from a combination of both. Just as the “Quartodecimans” memorialized Christ’s death in the context of the whole redemptive act,[2] on Easter Sunday and during Eastertide Christians celebrate the Resurrection only after they have first recognized and mourned Christ’s death during the season of Lent.
The contrast between Lent and Eastertide is essential to the Christian understanding and experience of the whole redemptive act. This is one reason why the Easter Vigil rite, “the original core of the liturgical year,”[3] is at the heart of the paschal mystery. The Easter Vigil, beginning sometime after dark on Saturday night, marks the transition from Lent to Eastertide, the passage from death to life. The Vigil readings communicate that God is no longer absent from our lives:
For a brief moment I abandoned you,
but with great compassion I will gather
you.
In overflowing wrath for a moment
I hid my face from you,
but with everlasting love I will have
compassion on you,
says the LORD, your Redeemer (Isaiah 54.7-8).

Though it may be difficult for many people to participate in a service beginning after dark Saturday and lasting through dawn Sunday, the Vigil would be an invaluable addition to the standard Easter service. Followed by an early breakfast and a service for those members of the congregation unable to attend, the evening/morning Vigil could help to re-establish Easter Sunday and Eastertide at the heart of the church—and with adequate preparation, planning and help, it wouldn’t have to be exhausting!
The vigil includes four parts: the Service of Light, the Service of the Word, the Service of the Water, and the Service of the Bread and Cup. Beginning after dark on Saturday, the vigil opens with the lighting of new fire. This fire is then used to light the Paschal Candle (which remains lit through Eastertide and Pentecost), a tradition carried over from ancient Jewish practice.[4] The Service of the Word includes biblical readings, many from the Old Testament, followed by a short sermon. Following the sermon, the Service of the Water offers the opportunity to commit or recommit to the Word of God through baptism. In addition, I’d suggest honoring those who have come before by naming the list of ancient and modern saints as recommended in The Handbook.[5] The remembrances of deceased loved one and prayers for specific people of the congregation could also be included during the Service of the Water.
Finally, I appreciate The Handbook’s suggestion of bringing in homemade breads to be used in the Service of the Bread and Cup or in the breakfast following the vigil.[6] The Easter Vigil and Sunday services should be designed to encourage the entire congregation to actively participate whether by baking bread, bringing fresh flowers to the service, taking these flowers to home bound congregants after the service, or participating in efforts to revitalize the community. As Raymond Brown points out, “those who were ‘scattered’ by the events of the passion at Jerusalem will once more become a community when they return to the place where they were first called together as disciples.”[7] Eastertide is an opportunity for community members to come together in celebration, sharing their joy and abundance with each other and with the larger community in which they live.
[1] Bradshaw 111
[2] Ibid. 113
[3] Ibid. 124
[4] Handbook 201
[5] Ibid. 208
[6] Ibid. 209
[7] Brown 202

The Rose

Casida of the Rose

The rose

was not searching for the sunrise:

almost eternal on its branch,

it was searching for something else.

The rose

was not searching for darkness or science:

borderline of flesh and dream,

it was searching for something else.

The rose

was not searching for the rose.

Motionless in the sky

it was searching for something else.

-Federico Garcia Lorca

translated by Robert Bly

Week eight: Holy Week I

Week 8, Holy Week I: Citing this week’s readings, what recommendations would you give churches today observing Holy Week, through Holy Saturday?

Jesus is completely abandoned in the hours leading up to his death. As Raymond Brown points out, while the first disciples left everything in order to follow Jesus, his last disciples left everything in order to get away from him.[1] Standing in church on an April afternoon today, it might be easy to think, “Well, if I had been there, I would have stood up for him. Or, we, as a congregation, would have stood up for him.” But in the previous chapter, Brown has suggested including Christians among the cast of characters opposing Jesus in the Passion play. He explains:

"Gospel readers are often sincerely religious people who have a deep attachment to their tradition. Jesus was a challenge to religious traditionalists since he pointed to a human element in their holy traditions—an element too often identified with God’s will. If Jesus was treated harshly by the literal-minded religious people of his time who were Jews, it is quite likely that he would be treated harshly by similar religious people of our time, including Christians. Not Jewish background but religious mentality is the basic component in the reaction to Jesus."[2]

In reflecting on the season of Lent for week five, I suggested that Lent be a time for us to slow down, to notice God’s absence, and to observe where we have turned away from God in our lives. Perhaps Holy Week is a time for us to ask, “Where is belief getting in the way of my relationship with God?” “Are their aspects of my worship that have become stale (“chametz”[3]) and that separate me from others and/or from God?” “What beliefs or practices do I need to let go of in order to deepen my relationship with God, with others, and with myself?”

In his description of the Jewish Passover, Greenberg writes, “True freedom means accepting the ethics of responsibility,” Several pages later, he adds “…sharing or reaching beyond the self is a fundamental mark of free people.[4] After the performance of a Passion play in which Christians also played the role of Jesus’ oppressor, it would be helpful to think creatively about the role of oppression in our current lives. In a group setting, it would be helpful to discuss the dual identity of oppressor and oppressed and to then explore how these identities take shape in our personal and communal lives.[5]

Though space is limited, I want to make two final points. The first point is that the practices suggested above are meant to help us to understand that like the Exodus, the crucifixion did not destroy evil in the world. “What it did was set up an alternative conception of life.” Greenberg writes of the Exodus. “…it points the way to the end goal toward which all life and history must go.”[6] I believe this holds true of the crucifixion and resurrection as well.

Secondly, I believe that to fully understand the Christian version of this alternative, we must remember that all life turned from God in the final hours of Jesus’ life. “Nature itself is plunged into a darkness that covers the whole land … from the sixth to ninth hour,” Brown reminds us.[7] Even Jesus turns away, asking “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” The entire world has rejected Jesus. Now he must let go of his God and face death. According to Father Bede Griffiths, it is in this surrender to nothingness, to darkness, that Jesus is taken to the total Love. “Behind death is this tremendous power of Love,” says Father Bede.[8] Ideally, the rituals and practices of Holy Week will help each one of us to experience the pain of being mocked and rejected, of being isolated and cut off from everything we know and love. And it will then allow us to gradually awaken and to be released back into the world, connected once again in God.

[1] Brown 156
[2] Brown 149
[3] Greenberg 41-46
[4] Greenberg 49-51
[5] The work of Paulo Freire would be useful in leading this discussion!
[6] Greenberg 36
[7] Brown 162
[8] http://thechristianliturgicalyear.blogspot.com/2009/03/father-bede-griffiths-surrendering-to.html

Father Bede Griffiths, Surrendering to the Feminine

If the video isn't working (I'm still figuring out this process of embedding videos) you can watch it here.

“...What my experience taught me was that when everything thing else goes, you discover this love, which is in you all the time, it’s there deep down and you know nothing about it. But let everything go and it comes. And I got a tremendous insight into Jesus on the Cross from this. It was very interesting. And at the words “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” you see, that was a climax for him. And I think at that moment he had lost everything. His disciples had fled, the jurors were all against him, the people rejected him, and now he had to let go of his God. Do you see? “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” And the moment he let go of God and faced death, darkness, nothingness, he was taken to total Love you see. That is the experience of death. Behind all death is this tremendous power of Love. ..."
Father Bede Griffiths