Re-living the Passion
“I saw the spot Our Lady met thee, carrying thy cross. She swooned and fell. I saw where thou didst wash the dusty feet of those who, when the soldiers came to haul thee off to death, took to their well-washed heels. With a candle in my hand, I climbed the hill on which they nailed thee to a tree, thy tender flesh so rent and torn it was more full of wounds than ever was a dovehouse full of holes. In a round-shaped church of stone where knights kept vigil, I saw thy Holy Sepulchre itself, the very shelf they set thy body on.”—Frederick Buechner in Godric.
St. Mark’s Little Rock
We are approaching one of the most sacred times in the Christian calendar, called Holy Week. To prepare for this period, our tradition recommends the sacrament of penance and reconciliation. Today, I share a rough draft of my confession about the highs and lows of my relationship with God, viewed through the lens of the Stations of the Cross.
St. Mary’s Cathedral Memphis
Today, on Palm Sunday, we walk, and we read the Passion Gospel in Matthew; on Good Friday, we will hear the Passion Gospel in John.
I see myself as one of the many characters in this incredible story across all the gospel accounts. Join me and see if you have a role to play as well. I’ve been Judas, betraying Jesus for politics and money. Yet, at the same time, I’ve had the privilege of preparing Christ’s supper for over twenty-five years. Jesus has washed my feet.
I have sung hymns with him on the way to the mountaintops. I have publicly declared Jesus as my God in front of large crowds. I have prayed with Christ and fallen asleep, either literally or by losing awareness of the present moment. I have figuratively cut off ears defending him in my zeal.
I have been Nicodemus, secretly visiting him at night and speaking up for him in a way that kept me safe. I have given false testimony against him by turning my plan into his plan. I have been Peter and denied my God more than three times. I have spat on him and mocked him through my actions.
I have been Pilate’s wife, receiving dreams telling me God is among us.
I have been Pilate and washed my hands of situations when I should have spoken out for what I knew in my heart was wrong.
I have been Barabbas, the freed criminal, and did not have to face the consequences of my sins. I have been privileged to see the face of God in many others who are in pain. I have perhaps been Simon of Cyrene, carrying another’s cross for a brief time. I have been among the women who followed Jesus from Galilee, helplessly watching his crucifixion from a distance. I have been the thief on the cross, crying out for God’s mercy in my distress. I have also been the other thief on the cross, still trying to tell God what He should do to ease my pain.
I have been the centurion at Jesus’ death, finally recognizing God in the lives of so many, only after they have died. I have been Joseph of Arimathea, and found a resting place for Jesus.
I have been one of the women with spices at the empty tomb, still searching for God. I have been Mary Magdalene in the garden, looking for God without recognizing Him.
This is an invitation to walk this Holy Week journey again together. I hear there is a surprise ending.
We will never forget the Holy Weeks of previous years. This week, we have another opportunity to walk with God and many others like never before. We pray for those injured in Arkansas, especially during the tornadoes that occurred in recent Holy Weeks.
Joanna. joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/