Marin T. rex

 Holy Saturday.  We wait.

I’m finding it so interesting to learn how different traditions refer to this day, and also why, in my own tradition, this dark day is referred to as “good.” “Good,” in this case of course means “pious” or “holy,” not the more common, lighter meaning of the word. In other traditions, this day is called “Friday of Preparation,” “Mourning Friday,” “Silent Friday,” and “Long Friday.” “Long Friday” certainly resonates with me ... it seems we’ve been waiting for so much, for so long. It makes me think of the famous sermon of African-American pastor and Civil Rights activist, Shadrach Meschach Lockridge, in which he repeats over and over, “It’s Friday, but Sunday’s coming!” A link is below. It’s a comforting and moving reminder that there will be resolution of all of this tension and fear. Sunday is coming. I'm going to give Libby a much-needed day off today and bring Feynman into the conversation.  This is a photo that the volunteers at the shelter in Beijing sent me while we were waiti

Today is when we remember the movement towards the cross amping up. Jesus gathered his best friends together and began to prepare them, and himself, for what was about to happen. He washed their feet as a teaching on service and humility, and they shared one last Passover meal together. I love words, so reading about the names of these holy days is fascinating for me. “Maundy,” for example, comes from the Latin “mandatum,” which is where we get the word “mandate.” The mandate, in John 13, is a tough one: “‘A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” We have been charged with actively loving, including everything from doing menial tasks for one another, to being willing to die in another’s place. In the past couple of years the word "mandate" has become charged.  Sides must be taken, and the last thing on the minds of many is service and kindness, let alone the prospect of dying for another. It's much easier (and even fee

Having grown up in a non-litur gical tradition, the various movements of Holy Week are pretty new to me. It makes me sad that I’ve missed out on such depth and rich history. And cool names! Spy Wednesday ... wow. Of course, the “spy” of “Spy Wednesday” is no laughing matter: none other than that great villain of Scripture, Judas Iscariot. The one who betrayed his friend with a kiss. That guy. My friend  @d.a.v.i.d.n.y.c  once taught a class on Judas Iscariot. It was fascinating to learn that the Gospels that were written closer to the actual historical events reported the story of Jesus’ betrayal very matter-of-factly. Only in the later Gospels does Judas start to become the caricature we know and hate. In Mark (written c. AD 66-70) the story of the betrayal is presented in a “just the facts, ma’am” manner. In Matthew (written c. AD 85-90) we get the facts of the story, along with the heart-wrenching moment when Jesus calls Judas his friend, even as he’s being betrayed. In Luke (and it

Today as we remember the details of the days before Good Friday and Easter, we commemorate 2 parables that Jesus told that final week: the Parable of the Ten Virgins and the Parable of the Talents. Both are illustrations on the importance of keeping watch, of being prepared, and of acting to bring heaven closer to earth—making a difference in this life. My husband, Ken, has delved deeply into the study of the 10 Talents—if you’d ever like an interesting and challenging conversation about that and the surprisingly practical takeaways found in that parable, I know Ken would love to chat with you. The TL;DR version is this: our priorities should ideally be about serving others and being prepared for the future before satisfying our own present-day wants. That’s a good word for any day, but an especially profound one for this Holy Tuesday, 2020. How would Jesus have us move forward after this time of disease and war? I imagine that many of us will have changed priorities once this is over.

  (I decided to borrow heavily from what I wrote about Holy Week in 2020.  Hope that's ok ... ) We know a fair amount about how Jesus spent the original Holy Monday: according to the Gospel of Mark, Jesus cursed a fig tree and overturned the money changers’ tables in the temple courts. Basically, he spent much of that Monday in a snit. A holy snit, but still ... things looked bleak, and he was justifiably cranky. I imagine we can all relate on this Holy Monday, 2022. Pandemic, authoritarian governments, war ... it's not good. Despite all the distractions and worries, I am determined to make this year’s Holy Week count: I will do my best to enter into the history and passion of it, the dread and the horror and ultimately, the hope—a hope that is not baseless, not wishful thinking. We know how the story ends, after all. We know Easter is just around the corner. But even so, this day is dark and heavy as we wait. And hope. Two years ago, I talked about Feynman waiting to be