Welcome to APC’s Lenten Devotionals
Lent offers an opportunity to pause, reflect, and pay attention to the ways faith meets everyday life. Throughout the season, members and staff of Abington Presbyterian Church share daily devotionals through writing, art, and music.
To explore the devotionals, use the buttons below to jump to a week (or scroll down), then click on a date to open that day’s reflection. Whether you engage with these offerings regularly or simply visit when you have time, we hope they provide a moment of stillness and perspective. All are welcome, and we invite you to share this resource with others.
Ash Wednesday
Ash Wednesday
Ash Wednesday, February 18 – The Rev. Judy Dwyer
Ash Wednesday Service – St. Mary’s Napa – Napa, CA
Isaiah 58:3a, 5-7, 10:
3a “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?”
5 Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself?
Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush and to lie in sackcloth and ashes?
Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the Lord?
6 Is not this the fast that I choose:
to loose the bonds of injustice,
to undo the straps of the yoke,
to let the oppressed go free,
and to break every yoke?
7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry
and bring the homeless poor into your house;
when you see the naked, to cover them
and not to hide yourself from your own kin?
10 if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.
Whenever I sit down to write, be it a sermon or shorter response to words of scripture, I like to attach a visual to the text. A picture to remind myself that I am not crafting an editorial, posting a meme, or drafting a journal article, but interpreting a story written many thousands of years ago by human beings seeking to articulate their relationship with God.
To give Isaiah’s words their proper weight I went in search of a particular image, a cross of ashes like those signed on our foreheads every Ash Wednesday. A symbol meant to remind us of the unavoidable intersection of life and death, and how we come to terms with it. Or not.
What I discovered in my search for that simple cross was an internet full of sites given over to free-range, artistic imagination. Why sport a smudge of ash when you can download and print a colorized version, bling optional? Why not wear your mortality in style?
I have held the ashes of a loved one. In bearing that surprisingly heavy bundle, I have been reminded that I too will one day be borne to rest by another who carries the burden of my days in their arms. Who finally lays that burden down on my behalf. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. The remains of all I have lived and loved, attempted and failed, l grasped and let go. All the things, left to smolder and grow cold in the wake of my one life.
It is our life’s work to come face to face with that reality, not to dress it up with a disguise that reflects what we want the world to see. To face into that pile of ashes so that we can truly live. To see – and be seen – as God sees. God sees our fully human selves, warts and all, and sets a spark of divinity squarely in the center of our souls, ready to be set ablaze. To fire the holy work of feeding hungry people and freeing the unjustly imprisoned; of clothing those draped in lack with the fabric of dignity. To strip away the pretenses we insist on parading before those closest to us, even the members of our own church family.
Like those ancients who dared to curry favor with God through their ostentatious piety, whose intentions crossed paths with those of God, we are called to clothe ourselves differently. To dress in the kind of working garb that equips to act, reaching out with the love and mercy of God through our own love and mercy. To do the work through which we worship the God who created us and will be with us always. Work that follows after us and reaches beyond the ashes to a kingdom not of this world, here on earth. May our light of our lives so rise.
First Week of Lent
Sunday, February 22
SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 22 – THE REV. JIM THORNTON
Genesis 2:15-17, 3:1-7
15 The Lord God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. 16 And the Lord God commanded the man, “You may freely eat of every tree of the garden, 17 but of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil you shall not eat, for in the day that you eat of it you shall die.”
3:1 Now the serpent was more crafty than any other wild animal that the Lord God had made. He said to the woman, “Did God say, ‘You shall not eat from any tree in the garden’?” 2 The woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, 3 but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the middle of the garden, nor shall you touch it, or you shall die.’ ” 4 But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not die, 5 for God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.” 6 So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food and that it was a delight to the eyes and that the tree was to be desired to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate, and she also gave some to her husband, who was with her, and he ate. 7 Then the eyes of both were opened, and they knew that they were naked, and they sewed fig leaves together and made loincloths for themselves.
It was a tempter’s question, pure and simple. “Did God say you shall not eat from any tree in the garden?” Note the snake’s intentional distortion of God’s prohibition against eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. But notice that the woman misstated things as well — God did not forbid touching the tree! Old Testament scholar Walter Brueggemann observed that soon the snake and the woman were engaged in a discussion about the theological ethics of living in the garden, as though either were in a position to determine what those ethics should be. And predictably enough, the focus soon shifted from behavior which served the claims and purposes of God to a consideration of the ways those claims might be avoided. In service of this avoidance, the serpent was a liar on at least two counts.
First, he told them God had lied about the rules – “you will not die,” he said. Second, he suggested the real problem in the garden was not the tree at all, but God’s weak ego. He claimed that God couldn’t stand the competition. God did not want man and woman to become divine.
So, eat and become like God. Who could resist such an offer? Come to think of it, who has resisted it? Don’t we play God regularly — not just in our relationship with others — don’t we regularly tell God how to manage our lives — if not the universe itself? We want to be God. It is where we all go wrong, where life’ s seductions draw us into being disloyal to God and to our God-given vocation to be God’s person in the living of our lives.
No sooner were the man and woman tempted into crossing God’s boundary than everything went out of sync. Not only did they discover themselves to be naked, they experienced a new reality – “shame.” Something was very wrong in life and they were powerless to do anything but hide. That is what happens when we violate the boundaries God has set for us, we soon discover just how naked and powerless we really are. This story asks us if we are willing to live in the garden of life on the creator’s terms. It reminds us that honoring those boundaries creates well-being, while crossing them leaves us naked and ashamed.
If we honestly look inside ourselves, we’ll see that we really want to rely solely on ourselves, rather than on the power of God. And although it brings us only misery, we stubbornly persist in our efforts to control the universe. Just as in the story of the first temptation from Genesis 3, we demonstrate regularly that there is within us the desperate lust to be like God, to call the shots, to define life the way we want it rather than the way it comes to us. When we’re ready to change all that – when we’re really ready to TRUST, Christ promises we will find power, not only to face life’s seductions, but to emerge from them as God’s faithful children. So, the next time we find ourselves facing one of life’s seductions, try simply saying, “I TRUST GOD AND GOD ALONE IN THIS MOMENT” and see what happens.
Monday, February 23
Monday, February 23 – Suzin Weber
Hebrews 2:10-18
10 It was fitting that God, for whom and through whom all things exist, in bringing many children to glory, should make the pioneer of their salvation perfect through sufferings. 11 For the one who sanctifies and those who are sanctified all have one Father. For this reason Jesus is not ashamed to call them brothers and sisters, 12 saying,
“I will proclaim your name to my brothers and sisters;
in the midst of the congregation I will praise you.”
13 And again,
“I will put my trust in him.”
And again,
“Here am I and the children whom God has given me.”
14 Since, therefore, the children share flesh and blood, he himself likewise shared the same things, so that through death he might destroy the one who has the power of death, that is, the devil, 15 and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by the fear of death. 16 For it is clear that he did not come to help angels but the descendants of Abraham. 17 Therefore he had to become like his brothers and sisters in every respect, so that he might become a merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God, to make a sacrifice of atonement for the sins of the people. 18 Because he himself was tested by what he suffered, he is able to help those who are being tested.
When we read through this passage, one of the statements that pops out to us is that Jesus was made perfect through suffering. Wait a second. Wasn’t he always perfect? After all, Jesus is co-eternal with the Father, begotten not created, sinless and almighty, who emptied himself to take on human flesh and submit to die on the Cross so that we may be forgiven of our sins and reconciled to God. The Bible describes him as the perfect, spotless lamb, who became sin for our sake, and that he could only do that because he was already sinless and perfect. So, we find ourselves wondering what the author of Hebrews is talking about here. Were they mistaken, or are we mistaken?
In order to make sense of this, we need to understand how the author of Hebrews was thinking about perfection and how that relates to Jesus being the Savior. Perfection, in this context, is inextricably connected to holiness, sanctification, and completion. To be holy, or sanctified, is to be set apart by God for a special purpose. Since the beginning of time, Jesus was set apart for the special purpose of being the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. But his role wasn’t completed until he actually did it. This is how the author of Hebrews is thinking about Jesus having been made perfect in suffering. If he had never actually emptied himself and taken on human form, if he had never fully submitted to becoming sin for our sake and dying on the Cross, all of Jesus’ potential as the Lamb of God never would have been realized. His perfection would have done us no good, and therefore, been incomplete for the purpose of reconciling us to God. But because Jesus willingly submitted to the suffering, the potential was made real, and the perfect became truly meaningful. It’s like having a perfectly tuned musical instrument but never ever playing it. If it never produces perfect tones, it is still perfectly tuned, but it is of no realized value. Therefore, its purpose is not complete. Jesus completed his potential through action and made his meaning as Savior realized and perfect.
The lesson we can take away from this is that God knew each of us before we were born, and he set each of us apart with skills, personalities, and gifts for a purpose. God calls us to submit to his will and make the potential of those gifts realized. We fulfill our potential when we obey. This is part of our sanctification, our ongoing transformation into becoming more and more like our brother, Jesus. This is why the author of Hebrews calls Jesus the “pioneer” of our salvation. What he did first, we are called to do as well, because in our obedience, we, too, complete our calling and potential as God’s children. We were saved for a purpose, and that purpose is realized and perfected in obedience.
Prayer:
We praise you, God, that you had a plan for our salvation since before the beginning of time. We praise you, Jesus, for your willingness to suffer death on our behalf so that we may become children of God and know the privilege of God calling us to acts of obedience. We pray that the Spirit will continue to disciple us to not be content to simply live in the knowledge of our salvation but to live with a passion to learn God’s will and to do it. For your honor and glory, Amen.
Wednesday, February 25
Wednesday, February 25 – Bonnie H. Zetick
Matthew 18:10-14
The Parable of the Lost Sheep
10 “Take care that you do not despise one of these little ones, for I tell you, in heaven their angels continually see the face of my Father in heaven. 12 What do you think? If a shepherd has a hundred sheep and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go in search of the one that went astray? 13 And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine that never went astray. 14 So it is not the will of your Father in heaven that one of these little ones should be lost.
Matthew 18:10-14 reveals God’s love and concern for each and every one of us. Ninety-nine out of one hundred of us might not be lost, but nothing will do but to locate the 1%, one out of 100, that is in distress. Perfection, 100 %, is the standard, not the majority or two-thirds doing well, but each and every one accounted for and not lost. God won’t tolerate the sacrifice of one lamb, even for the overwhelming majority who aren’t lost.
Why is each one of us so critical to the kingdom of God?
Not being a biblical scholar, I rely on theologians and pastors for help with interpretation and guidance. One of those go-to theologians for me, introduced to me by a former pastor, is the late Henri J. M. Nouwen, 20th century pastor, author, and advocate for people with mental disabilities. In Bread for the Journey: A Daybook of Wisdom and Faith (1997, published by Harper San Francisco), Nouwen presents a thought of a paragraph or so for each of 366 days in the year.
For March 10, Nouwen talks about an individual call to follow God and heed his message of love and caring. Nouwen contends that “We are not called to save the world, solve all problems, and help all people.” Whew! I often feel overwhelmed by poverty, discrimination, violence. I become immobilized and feel that I can’t make a difference. This sometimes becomes an excuse to not even try to address problems I see in my community.
However, Nouwen goes on to talk about how each and every one of us has a unique call. We must discern what we can do and ask for strength to carry out our call. My call is not the same as the call of the person who sits next to me in the church pew.
No wonder every lamb, every individual is precious, and can’t be left behind even if the vast majority are not lost. If one person is missing, so is their unique call.
Jesus also shows us that it is never too late to be in God’s presence and acknowledge his grace in our lives. Ninety-nine out of one hundred individuals may not be a cause for concern, but that 100th person is never forgotten in God’s eyes. God never gives up on us, even when we might give up on ourselves. It is never too late to reconcile with God’s love, patience, and caring.
How then can I show that I appreciate God’s continuing love for me? For me, I see always trying to see and reach out to those who may feel marginalized, uncared for, perhaps struggling with accepting God’s continuing love.
I love Abington Presbyterian Church because I find many opportunities here to reach out, receive reminders of God’s love, and accept kindness and extend it to others. What can I do and what have I seen others doing here?
- Write a letter to a legislator/decision-maker regarding an issue of concern to me; I may not be able to change overall policy, but I can express my opinion about an issue in Montgomery County as well as elsewhere
- Contribute food to Family Promise in Montgomery County, knowing that this food will be provided to people in need in my community
- Rejoice that someone in this congregation worries that I may not have sufficient supplies to weather the recent storm, and offers to deliver needed items to my door
- Teach Sunday School, create a fund to cover costs for inviting inspiring speakers to bring us messages of hope and reconciliation, extend kindness to someone in worship who I do not know, faithfully attend rehearsals and add a voice to the choir
What a joy to realize that the majority does not rule. Each and every one of us is treasured in God’s eyes, worthy of search if I’m lost, and never to be given up on.
Friday, February 27
Friday, February 27 – Musical Offering, Carol Choir
Lenten Love Song by Helen Kemp
Click here to watch the performance by the Carol Choir.
Now Jesus went into the garden
The garden of Gethsemane.
He went there sad and very weary.
To be alone, to pray.
“Dear God, I am so sorrowful,
Is there no other way?
Dear God if it is possible,
let this cup pass away.”
Now Jesus went into the garden
The Garden of Gethsemane.
The olive tree bent over him
and heard him sadly pray,
“Dear God, your son is sorrowful
but knows your way is best.
Let love take hold of me,
help me to be bold and free
to do your will and rest.”
Ubi caritas et amor, Ubi caritas Deus ibi est.
(Where charity and love prevail, there God is.)
Second Week of Lent
Sunday, March 1
Sunday, March 1 – Ruth Sall
Psalm 121: 1-2
Assurance of God’s Protection
A Song of Ascents.
1 I lift up my eyes to the hills—
from where will my help come?
2 My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth.
My family is from Casper, Wyoming. My parents met in high school, the same high school that my architect grandfather had designed. My parents moved a lot when I was a young child- my dad was in the Air Force. He was stationed throughout the Southwest United States, but Casper was always ‘home’. We visited multiple times every year and all my relatives; grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, and distant cousins, lived there when I was a child. We eventually moved to Casper when I was in middle school, and I spent the next five years there. It is the hometown I always knew.
Casper sits at the foot of a beautiful mountain as part of the Rocky Mountains. The view from every point in town is a stately, majestic mountain, covered in snow in the winter, and green and lush in the summer.
When I was in middle school my parents divorced. It was the culmination of many years of loud arguments, major turmoil, and constant chaos in our family. The experience I had as a ten-year-old whose parents were no longer able to be civil to one another was difficult. Music, especially singing, was a balm for me. I sang in a local community children’s choir and in our small church children’s choir. The texts of the songs we sang were my hope and where I first learned about God’s love for me.
I remember nearly every word of the songs I sang as a child. One that always comes to me when life is difficult was written by Natalie Sleeth, a Wellesley College graduate who made a name as a noted composer of hymns and choral anthems in the 1970s-1990s.
The children’s choir anthem was titled Psalm and was based on Psalm 121.
I will lift up my eyes. Lift my eyes to the hills.
To the mountains whence commeth my help
To the mountains and hills far away.
For the Lord is my keeper.
Never more shall I fear.
Though the darkness surrounds me
I will be of good cheer.
I will lift up my eyes. Lift my eyes to the hills.
To the mountains whence commeth my help.
To the mountains and hills far away.
Amid everything that was happening in my young life, I would hear that song in my mind’s ear and sing the words with hope and love. When things seemed far too hard, the Psalmist and Ms. Sleeth gave me the song to sing my prayer, my cry for protection and for care. And the mountain that I saw as I walked to school, or when we drove to church, or when I was shuttling between my parents, provided visual proof that the Lord of all created the hill, the mountain, for me to look to for strength and for help.
Prayer: God of strength and steadfastness, we look to you to guide our hearts. Open our eyes to your majestic wonder and hold our hearts in care and love as we live our lives in praise of you, singing hopeful songs. In your name we pray. Amen.
Monday, March 2
Monday, March 2 – Suzin Weber
Hebrews 3:1-6
3 Therefore, holy brothers and sisters, partners in a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession, 2 who was faithful to the one who appointed him, just as Moses also “was faithful in all God’s house.” 3 Yet Jesus is worthy of more glory than Moses, just as the builder of a house has more honor than the house itself. 4 (For every house is built by someone, but the builder of all things is God.) 5 Now Moses was faithful in all God’s house as a servant, to testify to the things that would be spoken later. ” 6 Christ, however, was faithful over God’s house as a son, and we are his house if we hold firm the boldness and the pride inspired by hope.
What does it mean when the author of Hebrews refers to Jesus as both apostle and high priest? To be an apostle is to be someone who has been sent on a mission, particularly a mission to bring reform or the introduction of a new way of doing things. We can think of an apostle as one who goes out. To be a high priest is to be an intercessor, coming before the Lord on behalf of the people to seek forgiveness and guidance. We can think of a high priest as one who goes in. So, as both apostle and high priest, Jesus both goes out from God to bring into the world a new way of reconciliation through his atoning sacrifice on the Cross, and as one who goes in to God on our behalf to ensure our forgiveness as that very sacrifice. This makes Jesus superior to all who have come before, because he serves as both the missionary from God to bring the message of good news and our advocate before God to plead for our forgiveness, as well as the sacrifice required to ensure that the guilt of our sin is covered, making him the messenger of good news, the guarantor of good news, and the good news itself.
The Greek word that we see translated as “faithful” in Hebrews 3:2 can also be translated as “trustworthy.” This adds an important nuance. If we describe Jesus as faithful, that helps us to think of his role as God’s apostle, faithfully discharging his duty to bring the message of the good news into the world. But if we describe Jesus as trustworthy, that helps us to see Jesus as our high priest, advocating on our behalf in front of God. Knowing that Jesus is trustworthy means that we can have hope that all of God’s promises for us will be kept. Just as God raised Jesus from the dead, we can trust that God has provided our victory over sin, death, and its power to bind us. In fact, the author of Hebrews later says as much in 6:19, where our hope in Jesus is described as an anchor for our souls, secured in Jesus’ high priestly presence before God and ensuring that we are now and will be eternally heirs to God’s promises.
Prayer:
Loving God, we thank you that you that you sent your Son, Jesus, to be both an apostle, telling us of your plan for our salvation and reconciliation, and to be a high priest, who offered himself as the perfect sacrifice for our sins and is eternally in your presence on our behalf. We also thank you that because Jesus has gone into your presence ahead of us that we, too, may go into your presence, not as strangers but as your adopted children and heirs to your promises. Help us to live as those who are grateful and faithful, obedient to your call that we also carry your message of salvation and reconciliation into the world, both by the words that we speak and the lives that we live. Help us to be mindful that because Jesus is faithful and trustworthy, we can be bold and confident, knowing that it is by your Spirit that we show our faith through our works and that you will see your plans through to their promised fruition. In gratitude we pray,
Amen.
Wednesday, March 4
Wednesday, March 4 – Music Reflection, Lois Leung
Prelude on the hymn tune ‘Rhosymedre’
by Ralph Vaughan Williams
“Rhosymedre” (pronounced ross-uh-med-reh) is a Welsh word meaning “lovely.” This prelude is based on a 19th-century Welsh hymn tune and is known for its flowing, song-like quality. Its warmth provides a moment of calm reflection, reminding us of the “lovely” grace found even in seasons of solemnity.
Sometimes they strew His way,
and His sweet praises sing;
Resounding all the day
Hosannas to their King.
Then “Crucify!” is all their breath,
and for His death
they thirst and cry.
Third Week of Lent
Sunday, March 8
Sunday, March 8 – Art Reflection, Auggie Sall
Exodus 17:1-7
1 From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages, as the Lord commanded. They camped at Rephidim, but there was no water for the people to drink. 2 The people quarreled with Moses and said, “Give us water to drink.” Moses said to them, “Why do you quarrel with me? Why do you test the Lord?” 3 But the people thirsted there for water, and the people complained against Moses and said, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children and livestock with thirst?” 4 So Moses cried out to the Lord, “What shall I do for this people? They are almost ready to stone me.” 5 The Lord said to Moses, “Go on ahead of the people and take some of the elders of Israel with you; take in your hand the staff with which you struck the Nile and go. 6 I will be standing there in front of you on the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it, so that the people may drink.” Moses did so, in the sight of the elders of Israel. 7 He called the place Massah and Meribah, because the Israelites quarreled and tested the Lord, saying, “Is the Lord among us or not?”
When looking through the readings for this week, I was compelled by the beginning of the story of Moses striking the rock, and kept visualizing a cartoon or pop-art image of sparks against the rock and the water flowing out. The staff is pictured as though the viewer might be Moses. I thought this was an interesting perspective and offered a personal interaction with the rock and the water. I decided on sunrise/sunset colors for the background to be emerging from the rock and the light of the sparks to contrast the darker, cool tones of the rock and the water.
Monday, March 9
Monday, March 9 – Ray Rife
2 John 1:12
I have much to write to you about, but I do not want to use paper and pen. Instead, I hope to visit you and talk with you face to face, so that our joy may be complete.
“…But I do not want to use paper and pen.” Why was St. John reluctant to use paper and pen to get his message across? Furthermore, what did he have to say that motivated him to use paper and pen to write this brief letter, the shortest book in the Biblical Canon?
St. John wrote on chartés” (χάρτης), a Greek translation for papyrus and used only here in all of scripture. [Charlie Garett, The Superior Word Community Fellowship, July 1, 2020. (Obtained via an on-line Google search)] Papyrus was to the Biblical era what oil is to the modern age. As early as 3,000 BCE, if not before, the Egyptians created papyrus. [John Gaudet, Pharoah’s Treasurers, Pegasus Books. (2018), p. xviii.] Some genius, probably a laborer killing time, took the stem of papyrus, a swamp reed with triangular shape from shallow water along the Nile, stripped off the outer skin, then opened the reed to its pith, merged it with piths from other reeds and created a cash cow for Egypt—Papyrus. [Ibid., p. 136-143.] Papyrus became the staple asset of the Ancient economy until the advent of parchment and vellum (animal skin) between 200-500 CE. [Ibid.]
Was using excess paper, (chartés) wasteful for John? If so, in this letter we see his essential message. There’s none of the introductory chit-chat of the Pauline letters in his brief letter.
So, what was John’s essential message?
Addressing the “lady chosen by God and her children” John finds great joy in some of her children walking in the truth and reminds them of the command to “love one another, ….and to walk in obedience to (Christ’s) commands.” What about her other children? Are they whom he warns her to avoid? Beware of deceivers running ahead and who are not continuing in the teaching of Christ, some of whom he labels antichrist. “If anyone comes and does not bring Christ’s teaching, do not let them into your house or welcome them. Anyone welcoming them shares in their wicked work.” [2nd John -10-11.] John apparently heard of some happenings in her household that piqued his concern to give advice and counsel. Is he warning her to avoid her own children?
So, what’s the point for us, today. John’s frugal letter tells those “chosen” by God to love one another and walk in obedience to Christ’s commands. Foremost, he warns of deceivers posing as Christian messengers when in truth they mislead those seeking to live by the teachings of Jesus. Good advice for our generation.
Prayer: Lord, strengthen us in our walk with you so that we show love to one another and are faithful to your teachings. And open our eyes to see the deceivers in our midst. Amen.
Wednesday, March 11
Wednesday, March 11 – Musical Reflection by Lynn Yip
Chorale prelude on “Herzliebster Jesu” by Helmut Walcha
Helmut Walcha, a 20th-century German organist, was renowned for his profound connection to the works of J.S. Bach, all of which he performed from memory. In this setting of ‘Herzliebster Jesu’ (Ah, Holy Jesus), Walcha employs a beautiful ostinato technique. As the pedals maintain a somber, repeating rhythmic pulse, a solo reed stop sings the melody with clarity. This simple style removes any unnecessary clutter, leaving a raw, focused expression of the sorrow and gravity of the Passion.
Ah, holy Jesus
how have you offended?
That mortal judgement
has on you descended
by foes derided,
by your own rejected,
Oh, most afflicted!
Fourth Week of Lent
Sunday, March 15
Sunday, March 15 – The Rev. Jim Thornton
Click here to read John 9:1-41
Natalie was cleaning the house when she heard her young son, Johnny, talking out in the back yard like there was someone out there with him. She went to the open kitchen window to see what was going on and there was Johnny “playing church” with their three kittens. He had the kittens all sitting in a row on a bench and he was preaching to them just like the pastor at their local Baptist church. She smiled and thought “isn’t that adorable – he has those kittens sitting there looking at him like they’re really listening.” So, she hurried off to find her camera. She retrieved the camera from the bedroom closet upstairs, but on her way back down to the kitchen she heard loud meowing and hissing. Running to the open window she saw Johnny baptizing the kittens in a tub of water. “Johnny!” she called out. “Stop that! Those kittens don’t like water!” Johnny looked up and said, “They should have thought about that before they joined my church.”
Putting ourselves into the role of the kittens, how much did we think about what were we getting ourselves into when we joined the church of Jesus Christ? Likewise, I wonder if the “man born blind” thought much about what he was getting himself into by letting Jesus heal his blindness. Looking closely, we may notice that though this is a story about Jesus, it is even more so a story about the blind man who was healed. Jesus himself appeared only at the beginning and at the end. Jesus healed the man (and told him to go wash in the pool of Siloam, which means “sent” – a not so subtle clue), then disappeared. The story followed the man around as he dealt with what the healing meant for him. If the truth be told, the time of our Lord’s absence was no picnic for the man. Perhaps no biblical story outside of Job illustrates quite so dramatically the truth that discipleship often leads into, rather than away from, difficulties. A few days earlier the man’s life was blessed by Jesus, but now his old friends disregard him, his parents reject him, and he is no longer welcome at his old place of worship. What did he get himself into and was it worth it? Thus, this story is virtually a parable for life in the church. What have we gotten ourselves into?
The story reminds us that the work Jesus came into the world to do is work that is not his alone, but is work for all who belong to him — all who have been baptized in his name. For in baptism, you and I have not only been joined to Christ, we have been anointed with God’s Spirit, the same Spirit who opened the man’s eyes in that pool and went forth with him. Baptism is not simply a mark that we belong to Christ; it is a moment of commissioning. The baptismal font is nothing less than a pool named “Sent” and we’ve been through there. We are all sent forth from baptism into this world as God’s anointed, eyes opened, to continue Christ’s work and be bearers of Christ’s light. A change has taken place in us, but it’s no picnic to live out. Oh man, what did we get ourselves into? What do you think−is the blessing worth it?
Monday, March 16
Monday, March 16 – Carole Jeanne Nicholson
Psalm 146
1 Praise the LORD!
Praise the LORD, O my soul!
2 I will praise the LORD as long as I live;
I will sing praises to my God all my life long.
3 Do not put your trust in princes,
in mortals, in whom there is no help.
4 When their breath departs, they return to the earth;
on that very day their plans perish.
5 Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the LORD their God,
6 who made heaven and earth,
the sea, and all that is in them;
who keeps faith for ever;
7 who executes justice for the oppressed;
who gives food to the hungry.
The LORD sets the prisoners free;
8 the LORD opens the eyes of the blind.
The LORD lifts up those who are bowed down;
the LORD loves the righteous.
9 The LORD watches over the strangers;
he upholds the orphan and the widow,
but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.
10 The LORD will reign for ever,
your God, O Zion, for all generations.
Praise the LORD!
This psalm is bookended with the words “Praise the Lord” just like Psalms 147-150. Important words if they are repeated so many times. The psalmist says he will sing praises to the Lord his whole life long. He then reminds, or maybe reassures, the people to not to put trust in their rulers for their time and their plans will end. God and His plans will not end. He reminds us of all God has done in His creation of the world and all its creatures. Looking forward to the future, He will bring justice to the oppressed, feed the hungry, set prisoners free, open the eyes of the blind, and care for the orphans and widows. The ways of the wicked will end but God will reign forever.
Wednesday, March 18
Wednesday, March 18 – Karen Hoyle
Psalm 146: 5-10
Praise for God’s Help
5 Happy are those whose help is the God of Jacob,
whose hope is in the Lord their God,
6 who made heaven and earth,
the sea, and all that is in them;
who keeps faith forever;
7 who executes justice for the oppressed;
who gives food to the hungry.
The Lord sets the prisoners free;
8 the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.
The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;
the Lord loves the righteous.
9 The Lord watches over the strangers;
he upholds the orphan and the widow,
but the way of the wicked he brings to ruin.
10 The Lord will reign forever,
your God, O Zion, for all generations.
Praise the Lord!
History has always been interesting to me. I try to imagine what this Psalm meant to the Jews living under the harsh Roman occupation of Jesus’ day. God’s people were yearning for the Messiah to so all would come to pass as promised in Psalm 146.
We are blessed that Jesus did come and change world history. However, human nature has not changed and there is evil in our world, sometimes due to actions and at times, apathy and indifference. In God’s time, not ours, the oppressed will be lifted up, the hungry fed, and the alien, orphaned and widowed will be sustained.
As Christians, it is not sufficient to wait until these events happen. It is time for us in God’s creation to make a difference and help bring justice now. We all have gifts. Lent, a time of spiritual reflection, is the ideal time to pray and choose how to use our gifts to improve the lives of others. There is much we can do, from letter writing to our lawmakers, attending protests and prayer vigils in the cause of justice, helping those in our neighborhood who need kindness and conversation and more.
All time is God’s time and we can make a difference in God’s world through our prayer and our actions. May God help us discern how we can share our faith and gifts. Amen
Friday, March 20
Friday, March 20 – Music Reflection by Lois Leong
“Compassion” (Bell Tree Solo) by Jason W. Krug
Having first performed this piece within a full handbell ensemble, I was immediately drawn to its lyrical and sorrowful melody. Jason builds musical tension by layering different rhythms against one another (two notes against three). This rhythmic conflict illustrates the internal struggle of Jesus during his prayer in Gethsemane. The sharp “clusters” of notes at the climax of the piece serve as a poignant reminder of the moments Christ was nailed to the cross.
Fifth Week of Lent
Sunday, March 22
Sunday, March 22 – John Sall
John 11: 32-35
32 When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” 33 When Jesus saw her weeping and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. 34 He said, “Where have you laid him?” They said to him, “Lord, come and see.” 35Jesus began to weep.
I have always wept easily, and I regularly find myself overcome by tears. Many family stories from my childhood noted what might precipitate my “bursting into tears” along the way. And now I admit to how easily I am in tears at sorrows, joys, music, Olympic efforts, triumphs, disappointments, and nature’s beauty. Today the Memorial Concert will bring memories and grief for many, but also extraordinary beauty and awe which inspire tears, as well. In John’s Gospel narrative Jesus comes face to face with grief (his friends’ and his own), and then the text states simply that he, too, wept. Tears of grief accompany loss and compassion even for those who have ultimate hope. Jesus’ tears lead Mary to a new vision of the intimacy of this leader and friend which we see in the next chapter when she anoints him with costly perfume. And if we sit with this image, perhaps we can ask, “What moves me to tears today? What touches my heart?” And then reflect on how this may be the Spirit pointing us toward God in a way that will draw us closer.
Consider this reflection on tears by Frederick Buechner (from Whistling in the Dark) first sent to me by a friend who welcomes my tears without turning away:
“You never know what may cause them [tears]. The sight of the Atlantic Ocean can do it, or a piece of music, or a face you’ve never seen before. A pair of somebody’s old shoes can do it. Almost any movie made before the great sadness… a horse cantering across a meadow, the high school basketball team running out onto the gym floor at the start of a game. You can never be sure. But of this you can be sure. Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention.
They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are, but more often than not God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and is summoning you to where, if your soul is to be saved, you should go to next.”
A prayer (by hymnwriter Ruth Duck from Hymn No. 692):
Spirit, open my heart to the joy and pain of living.
As you love may I love, in receiving and in giving.
Spirit, open my heart.
Monday, March 23
Monday, March 23 – Donna Dykstra
Psalm 143:5-6 (The Message translation)
“I meditate on all your works
and consider what your hands have done.
I spread out my hands to you.”
These two verses from Psalm 143 speak of hands in two ways—God’s hands and our hands. The psalmist, in distress, asks God for assurance that God will protect him.
Today I challenge you to meditate with the psalmist, remembering that all of creation is in God’s hands. Do you sense that God has the whole world in his hands? Reflect on the marvelous ways God has cared for you. In what way are you feeling God’s provision? Can you offer a prayer of thanks for God’s love and care for you?
Your hands are amazing! Think of what an incredible range of things you are able to do with those two appendages. Pick up a toothbrush. Throw a baseball. Open a book. Shake hands. Play an instrument. Point. Tickle. Lift a bag of groceries. Steer a car. Plant a tulip bulb. Wave. Fold them for prayer.
The psalmist spreads out hands to God. Can we do the same today? Reaching to God for help and comfort? Extending those hands to sense God’s presence? Using our hands in an act of service? Expressing our fears, our joys, our hopes with our hands??
My granddaughters, ages 2 and 4, have little hands. They use them beautifully to express themselves as they color or dance or wave. The artwork attached shows their handprints reaching out from the branches of a tree, reaching up to the sky. I hope their little hands can be part of your prayer meditation today, and that you can marvel at both the Hands of God and the Hands of God’s people.
Artwork by
Sloane and Cosette Dykstra
Wednesday, March 25
Wednesday, March 25 – Musical Offering, Presbytones Men’s Group: George Bihn, Zene Colt, John Dean, Bill Price, John Sall, Steve Seeholzer, and Ian Waite
Ah, holy Jesus
For me, kind Jesus,
was thine incarnation,
thy mortal sorrow,
and thy life’s oblation,
thy death of anguish
and thy bitter passion,
for my salvation.
Sixth Week of Lent – Holy Week
Palm Sunday, March 29
Palm Sunday, March 29 – The Rev. Jim Thornton
Matthew 21:1-11
1 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.”[a] 4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet:
5 “Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
humble and mounted on a donkey,
and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”
6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the donkey and the colt and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. 8 A very large crowd[b] spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,
“Hosanna to the Son of David!
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”
10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” 11 The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”
Against his disciples’ wishes, Jesus decided to come to Jerusalem at Passover. It was the most volatile, dangerous time to be there. The city was full of pilgrims who had come to remember the liberation of their people from slavery centuries before. They were full of patriotism and hopes for their liberation from their current oppressor. It was such a tinderbox that supplemental military units were brought to the city. Roman soldiers were on every corner. It was into this dangerous, combustible arena that Jesus chose to enter, of all things, in the very manner that the prophet Zechariah had predicted that the Messiah would come: “humble and lowly is he, riding on an ass.” The crowds who saw it recognized immediately what Jesus was claiming. And while it may be an exaggeration by Matthew to say that the whole city was stirred up by him, such a demonstration would surely have gotten the attention of the authorities — both the religious authorities, who lived in dread of popular uprisings inspired by religious zealots, and the Roman military authorities, who simply had no patience for potential revolts. They were there to keep the peace, period.
What Jesus did next was equally dangerous. He went to the temple, as all pilgrims did. But when he arrived, instead of purchasing a suitable animal for the prescribed sacrifice, he physically drove out of the temple the merchants and money changers making a lot of money from the holiday tourist trade, who were creating a great commotion inside the prayer area for the gentiles. The combination of entering the city in so provocative a manner and an active assault on the religious establishment pretty much assured that soon he would be in major trouble — unless, of course, common sense prevailed and he beat a hasty retreat, left the city, and returned to the uncomplicated safety of Galilee. Which, of course, he did not. He would not avoid the reprisals to come.
Therefore, always looming over the drama of Palm Sunday is the shadow of the cross, Rome’s punishment for traitors, and the critical issue of why, in the name of God, would Jesus do what he did. Why would God — whom we confess as incarnate in the life of Jesus — become so involved in such a messy, violent, political event, an event of human pain and suffering and death? That question takes us into deep water on Palm Sunday, deeper water than some of us would like, I’m sure. One of the big issues the philosophers struggled with and argued about was not so much the existence of God, but God’s relationship to humankind. Is there a connection? Does God understand us? Does God know what it is like to be human? Does God in any way share our experience? Does God laugh and rejoice like we do, suffer and weep like we do? Mostly the philosophers, beginning with Aristotle, concluded “no,” God does not laugh and weep. God cannot experience suffering and still be God. God is absolute perfection, and absolute perfection is not disturbed or moved in any way. God doesn’t have feelings or compassion. The philosophers even had a word for it: “apatheia,” the perfect, isolated, unfeeling, uncaring, complete otherness of God.
Though some theologians have tried to make it so, this is not the Christian understanding of God. Christianity asserts that God is involved with the creation and is, therefore, caught up in every aspect of the human situation, every happiness and every misery, every pain and every pleasure. To quote Peter Gomes, “Jesus did not die to spare us the indignities of a wounded creation. He died that we might see those wounds as our own. He died that we might live, fully and hopefully, not in some fantastic never-never-land, but in some ambiguous reality of the here and now.” In other words, in Jesus Christ, God embraced the confusing realities of this world — in Jesus Christ, God embraced that joy and pleasure are not the goal of life, while pain and sorrow are not to be avoided at all costs. If these common misconceptions of ours were true, Jesus would surely have fled Jerusalem. Instead, this life is about living with God even as these things flow through our lives, because God experiences them with us and cares for us through it all. Palm Sunday, and the story which quickly follows, tells us that this is so.
Monday, March 30
Monday, March 30 – Musical Reflection, Festive Ringers
My Song is Love Unknown
Maundy Thursday, April 2
Maundy Thursday, April 2 – The Rev. Judy Dwyer
John 13:33-35
33 Little children, I am with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and as I said to the Jews so now I say to you, ‘Where I am going, you cannot come.’ 34 I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
We in the church are accustomed to greeting Maundy Thursday with sober faces and somber moods. We remove all of the accoutrements we normally associate with worship – the candlesticks, collection plates, communionware, paraments, even the Bible – and drape the sanctuary in black, exiting in silence. The dark night of the soul descends, and our every experience of death meets us plodding back to our beds, hoping against hope for a better morning.
Even as we hope, we find ourselves caught on seven cruel words: “Where I am going, you cannot come,” stymied by that terminal boundary, the impenetrable line death draws between us and the one we love. What, if anything, can that limit teach us about how to live, even after our loved one is gone?
What if Jesus’ words are meant to draw our attention not to the absence of the one we can no longer see and feel and touch, but to what is here, in front of us, now? To the gift of love their life has been to us? To that feast of beloved gathered round the table, sharing bread and wine, laughter and song and stories of what has happened since the last time we saw one another. Drawing us in to that indefinable moment of koinonia, that intimate, deep relationship of belonging to and sharing our love for one another.
This is the moment that happens after the funeral, when we gather with family and friends to share our stories and tears, hugs and laughter. As we remember the person who has gone to that place we cannot. At least, not yet. As we work out how we’re supposed to go on living in that “not yet” time, when we are convinced no kind of love could possibly see us through whatever comes next.
Yet, if grief holds any meaning for us, perhaps it is this: that the person whose loss so devastates us is also the one who has taught us how to love. Even more, to love as Jesus loves. Even if we are still working out our relationship with the one who has died, as his followers did with Jesus. So it is that, as we mourn, we ask God for the grace to carry on living:
“Help us to live as those who are prepared to die. And when our days here are accomplished, enable us to die as those who go forth to live, so that living or dying, our life may be in you, that nothing in life or in death will be able to separate us from your great love in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (The Book of Common Worship, p. 916)
May it be so. Amen.
Good Friday, April 3
Good Friday, April 3 – Ray Rife
Psalm 22:1
My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?
In my experience, I’ve found no music that captures the agony of Jesus on the cross with the intensity of Thomas Dubois’ Seven Last Words of Christ. The whole oratorio has a traumatic, melancholic mood so much so that our first Presbyterian pastor loathed the work and forbade it being sung again.
In “God, my Father,” the oratorio’s Fourth Word, Jesus begins praying plaintively and reflectively. The music and lyrics capture the intense emotions of the dying Jesus wrestling with why he’s being put to death for doing his Father’s work.
“God my Father, God my Father, why has thou forsaken me?”
(I don’t get it Father. I’m bearing the weight of humanity’s sin. I feel alienated from you now. You’ve been with me all along, where are you now?)
Still in a searching mood He asks again:
“God my Father, God my Father, Oh why has thou forsaken me?”
(Here He asks with more intensity. You really did let me down, Father.)
Musically, Dubois emphasizes the question with a more intense “why”.
Jesus now turns to reflecting on his friends and enemies.
“All those who were my friends,… all have now forsaken me, …all those who were my friends, all have now forsaken me, ”
(Not only you Father, but this group I chose to work with me, and I thought they’d stand with me, they’re letting me down also. Oh, the misery of the time and effort I put into teaching and leading them. It’s has gone to waste.)
“and they that hate me do now prevail against me, …”
(The Pharisees and Sadducees are annoying Father. Everything I try to tell them and show them goes to naught. They are hardheaded, and really, they’re dead weight, ….but forgive them Father, for they know what they ‘re doing.)
Dubois emphatically accents each word.
“and he whom I have cherished, he hath betray’d me.”
(Oh, and then there’s Judas, …Judas. I love this man. I cared for him, nurtured him, thought he was coming along. Then he turns on me and sells me off. No word can express my deep disappointment in him.)
Musically, an air of sadness and disappointment.)
“God my Father, God my Father, Oh why has thou forsaken me?”
Still reflecting Jesus thinks of the movement he worked to create. He’s somber, grasping for the meaning of it all.
“Even the vine that I have chosen, have chosen, and that I have planted.”
The mood changes. More angry, more demanding, Jesus accuses His Father of being so bitter with Him that He’s crucifying Him.
“Wherefore art thou now so strangely turned into bitterness that I by thee am crucified?”
Accusation turns to anger and then to rage,
“Why oh Why, Father, are you crucifying me”
“That I by thee am crucified? That I by thee am crucified? That I by thee am crucified?
Emotionally, the mood softens and returns to the question:
“God, my Father,”
and then increases intensity
“God my Father oh why hast thou forsaken me?”
“God, my Father,”
“God my Father oh why hast thou forsak……en me?”
In wailing rage and despair, burdened by the sin of humanity, longing for intimate fellowship with His Father, Jesus prays:
“Oh why…… hast thou forsak……en me?”
Easter Day/Resurrection of the Lord, April 5
Easter Day, April 5
Easter Day / Resurrection of the Lord, April 5th – The Rev. Sudie Niesen Thompson
Psalm 118:24
This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.
Yes, this is a day for rejoicing! On Easter Sunday we greet the dawn with shouts of “Alleluia!” For Christ is risen; he is risen, indeed. Today we celebrate that the Creator who called forth light when only darkness covered the face of the earth—separating the Day from the Night and ordering all creation—has now re-ordered creation. In raising Jesus from the dead, the One who first created life has created new life … in a stone-cold tomb of all places! Because Christ is risen, death does not and will not have the last word. This is an enduring promise—one to which we cling on this day that the Lord has made … and on every day that the Lord has made. Yes, whatever our days bring, this is the good news upon which we stand.
Did you notice that Psalm 118 is also the Psalm assigned to be read on Palm Sunday? The verses are different. Rather than ending the reading with verse 24, as we do today, the Palm Sunday lection extends to verse 29 so that the church hears the lines the crowd echoes as Jesus rides into Jerusalem:
Save us*, we beseech you, O LORD! O LORD, we beseech you, give us success! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the LORD. We bless you from the house of the LORD. (Ps. 118:25-26)
* “Hosanna” in Hebrew
I wonder: Do you hear this Psalm differently when the reading ends with verse 24? How do verses 25-26 change your understanding of that familiar exhortation—This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it? Ponder that for a moment.
What did you notice?
Here’s one thing I notice when I hold verses 24 through 26 together: The call to rejoice and be glad in this day does not happen in a vacuum. The praise the Psalmist feels personally and summons from others does not depend on all manner of things being well. In fact, if we keep reading, we can assume that all is not well; there are forces at work that cause the Psalmist to cry out for help from the Lord. But still the Psalmist rejoices.
Easter, too, does not happen in a vacuum. It dawns on a world in which death still stalks each and every living thing. No, death does not have the last word. But, as we know too well, it brings a real end—often a painful end. It dawns on a world where the cruelty we read about in the narratives of Christ’s passion and death still plagues creation. People still cry out to the Lord for help with—or deliverance from—the things that hold us bound, that weigh us down, that threaten to undo us. On this day that the Lord has made, not all is well.
But we do not rejoice despite this. On Easter Sunday we rejoice, in part, because of this … Not because these reasons for lament exist. But because God does not and will not let them have the last word. Our ever-creating God is at work even when all is not well—especially when all is not well—to draw Day from Night and Life from the clutches of Death. Just as it was at the dawn of time, when the Creator said, “Let there be light …” Just as it was at dawn in a Jerusalem garden, when Jesus emerged from a stone-cold tomb. Just as it is now … however it is that Easter dawns for you. And, so, we raise our voices in joy: This is the day that the LORD has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it!
We invite everyone to join us for worship on Sunday mornings. Our regular schedule includes a simple gifts worship service is held at 8 a.m., and our celebration worship service is held at 10 a.m. (and is live-streamed).
During Holy Week, our worship schedule is:
- Palm Sunday: regular schedule (8 and 10 a.m.)
- Maundy Thursday:
- Good Friday:
- Easter Sunday: Sunrise service _______; celebration worship services with communion at 9 and 11 a.m.
