I am aware that I have not written for almost a month. The fact is, I have not been able to bring together my thoughts clearly, at least not in a way to write on a blog.
Since the last article I’ve prayed deeply for a little baby waiting on a heart. Waiting on another to not survive, so that little Andrew might. What a terrible ache both parents must feel…and what a piercing example of the brokenness of our world. He did receive his heart and he is recovering. And his eyes still capture my attention.
He has been the reason I pop on FaceBook, breaking my fast. To check and see if he survived another night, another day. Then, when I flew to Albuquerque with Maddie to celebrate the life of my Uncle who had passed away, late at night I saw the post that Andrew was on his way into surgery. Great delight. Great sadness for another family…a nameless family.
So, I did not make it cleanly in my Facebook fast, although I did refrain from posting and commenting other than just a few important moments. The fast showed me something…I’m not sure that I contemplated Jesus as much as I had hoped (although, I did contemplate more than I have in recent months)…I realized how much I had been caught up in thinking of activity in light of how it can be shared.
Hmmm…I should share this on FaceBook. I wonder how I could word this to be witty or sincere or somber….how can I condense the important things of the moment into a blurb that grabs attention.
It actually took me a few days, even weeks, to get out of that mindset. I am not avidly on FB, but I’m on a fair bit, and I was a little taken aback that I had stepped into that type of thinking. There is more there that I want to think about…but not today.
Today is Maundy Thursday. Lent is almost over. Passion week is coming to its climax.
I almost missed it.
Even with fasting and thinking and reading and contemplating and waiting….I was startled today that it is Maundy Thursday.
The disciples are about to celebrate the first Lord’s Supper. To hear the news that one will betray. To walk the path with Jesus to the cross.
To deny Him.
To see Him beaten.
To hear the crowd cry Crucify.
To see Him die.
It’s now. All the rambling about Lent, all the discussions about whether fasting is worthwhile or self-righteous…it is time to be quiet.
The moment eternity hinges on is upon us. That is staggering. It should make our hearts race a bit.
The Savior of the world. The Creator of the world. The baby has grown, His hands are calloused, His feet have walked miles, His mouth has spoken wisdom and compassion. His moment has come.
I almost missed it. This has been a hectic week, and although FaceBook has not been a distraction much…life has.
I want to whisper….I want to be quiet….I want to listen.
I want to listen to what they are saying at the table….I want to hear their confusion as Jesus says one will betray Him. The confusion as He washes their feet. The confusion as the guards come to the garden.
All the preparation of fasting and thinking….it’s about to explode in the celebration and the remembrance and the moment of everything changing.
The Son of God on a cross. The Chosen One. He changes everything.
Here is the source of every sacrament,
The all-transforming presence of the Lord,
Replenishing our every element
Remaking us in his creative Word.
For here the earth herself gives bread and wine,
The air delights to bear his Spirit’s speech,
The fire dances where the candles shine,
The waters cleanse us with His gentle touch.
And here He shows the full extent of love
To us whose love is always incomplete,
In vain we search the heavens high above,
The God of love is kneeling at our feet.
Though we betray Him, though it is the night.
He meets us here and loves us into light.
Malcolm Guite