Resurrection

Resurrection

“Our memory of Jesus’ resurrection fails us if we only understand his resurrection as a miracle. Jesus’ resurrection was indeed a miracle; however, Jesus’ resurrection needs to be more than a miracle. It needs to be normal … every day … how we live and breathe: with resurrection power.”—Br. Curtis Almquist, SSJE, from “Brother, Give Us a Word,” a daily email sent to friends and followers of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist (SSJE.org).

Easter Trinity Cathedral Banner a gift from Charliss in memory of her father

This is at the heart of spiritual direction, helping spiritual friends see daily, yearly resurrection in their lives in the daily Good Fridays that present themselves. It often takes more than three days to become aware of these resurrections. However, as we become more conscious of the resurrections, we become more open to trust and a little more patient that there will be a resurrection from each new darkness we face.

My experience is that I most often draw closer and spend more time with God during the darkness. On the dark Good Fridays of my life, I learn about surrender, where I “re-turn” my life and my will over to God.

A close family member or friend dies. We learn about the sacredness of life and spend more time living in the present with gratitude for each day. We learn to honor and be grateful for our relationship by extending to others the love and kindness we knew in that relationship.

Our children act out. We see our part in it and try to change our relationship with them.

Our job becomes more and more difficult. But then, we finally leave it, or maybe even are fired. But, after much time, we find a job that is our bliss.

 A medical illness slows us down. We seek a more meaningful life by living at a slower pace, a day at a time.

We are caught in our addiction and lose our job. We change our whole lifestyle and outlook to live without the addiction.

Someone has harmed us mentally, physically, or spiritually. Over time, we realize that unless we can forgive and move on, that person is still hurting us. We then slowly learn about daily forgiveness for the small hurts we feel each day.

Miracles become the ordinary. We see God at work in our lives. Resurrection.

A gift of the past pandemic was to slow down our lives and live in the present moment. Slowing down is one of the best ways to see ordinary miracles. This is resurrection.

Today, our prayers are also for those whose lives could not slow down, especially our healthcare workers and first responders.

Joanna  joannaseibert.com https://www.joannaseibert.com/

 

 



 

Lessons for the Great Fifty Days of Easter

Lessons for the Great Fifty Days of Easter

“I looked and saw a nurse, dressed all in white, standing by a bed in the improvised ICU. “Why do you seek the living among the dead?” she asked, and then she pulled back the curtain to reveal an empty bed. In my confusion, I turned and walked outside, leaving the hospital as if it were a tomb, and went into the streets. There were hundreds of people there, people laughing and talking, people strolling hand in hand, children playing in the parks, people hugging one another as they met on busy sidewalks. The shops were full. The streets were full. The city was overflowing with the sounds of life, joyous and unending, beneath a clear and sunny sky. I stood transfixed. Then I remembered: it was Easter Day!”—Steven Charleston Facebook Page, Easter 2020.

Easter Parade NYC

Just in case you did not see one of Bishop Charleston’s previous Easter Facebook pages, here it is! He tells us what the resurrection of our state, country, and world will look like. He constantly reminds us to look fear in the eye. He shows us what hope looks like. Reread the resurrection stories of Jesus. So often, he says, “Fear not. Do not be afraid; Peace be with you.”

During the pandemic and our recent tornadoes, I think Jesus’ message also was to care for ourselves and others. Trusting is not just meeting danger unprepared. Like David slaying Goliath, we must take the tools we know best to slay the viruses, prepare for disasters, and reach out to others who need help. David’s ammunition was a slingshot and a stone. Our weapons involved changing our social and hygienic behavior towards the enemy, preparedness, and caring for our neighbor.

Not being afraid means knowing God is beside us and caring about us. But I think God also wants us to be prepared with the tools God gives us against any danger. God walks beside us today so that we, again this year, can take the joy of the Easter Parade into our streets, shops, workplaces, and churches.

My Granddaughter Zoe and I often watch the movie Easter Parade on Holy Saturday. Later, on Easter Day, after lunch, I watched the Easter Parade with our oldest granddaughter, Langley, who had never seen it. That night, she showed me pictures of today’s Easter Parade in New York City. Very different from the past. We need something to remind ourselves of life in the past, but we also need to live in the present. We also need to remember the tools we have learned in this pandemic and recent disasters that we must continue to use so the future of our world remains brighter.

The joy of the great fifty days of Easter is an excellent time to celebrate being kinder to our bodies, more considerate to each other, more forgiving to our souls, and kinder to the planet.

chant Exsultet Easter

Chant Exsultet Easter

“Chant calls us out of chronological time, in which ‘now’ can never be located, and into the eternal now, which is not really found in time.” —David Steindl-Rast in The Music of Silence: Entering the Sacred Space of Monastic Experience (HarperOne, 1995).

David Steindl-Rast reminds us that when we use this ancient voice of praise and prayer to God, we are standing in the presence of ancient angel choirs. We are changing the way we address God and each other. The words become notes. The message we chant sounds different. The sounds of the chant are soothing and comforting. The music takes us to another place and another time. The sounds open our world to a new dimension. Chanting slows down the words of the message. The squirrels running in the cage in our heads slow down and become a bit quieter. Sometimes, time seems to stand still, and we feel at peace. We are home.

The chant that deacons most often sing is the Exsultet, which follows bringing the newly lighted Christ candle back into the church at the Easter Vigil. This music becomes part of my body long before Lent begins, even if I am not the deacon designated to sing this lengthy Canticle. Jason Pennington, the music director at one of my previous churches, describes the Exsultet as “one of the most difficult chants of the Church’s treasury of song, sung at the opening of the Great Vigil. It is the culmination of the events of the Holy Triduum, as the congregation holds their candles in the shadow of the one Paschal. The choir, not yet allowed into the stalls, stands in the nave with the faithful as that most beautiful of Canticles is intoned and promises us all the immeasurable gift of salvation.” 

I keep a note from Jason from our last Easter together, when I began having more mobility issues, and standing for a long time was more difficult. “She faced excruciating physical pain to stand for the lengthy Canticle as she drew each breath to acclaim its message of life. She paced it well, taking her time and savoring every single phrase as if it were the very first. This was a beautiful gift of ministry, a Holy Spirit gift that put ministry before self. And isn’t that exactly the lesson to have been learned at the Mandatum not two nights before: ‘I give you a new commandment, that you should love one another.’ Joanna’s lovely, quiet chanting voice was tremulous with pain yet was filled with joy. This was Easter.”

I keep Jason’s note to remind me and others that chanting is always an offering, never a performance.

Jason