Dear Friends,
If we were granted a slight reprieve from the stark solemnity of Lent last Sunday, with the comforting parable of the Prodigal Son, this Sunday - the beginning of Passiontide - takes a hard right turn and sets the stage for the arrest, trial, and crucifixion of Jesus that will be the focus of Holy Week.
When you arrive at church, you will find almost all of the crosses, statues, and sacred images veiled. This ancient custom was a way of removing signs of beauty and joy, so that the faithful could focus on the suffering of Christ.
The point of focusing on Christ's passion - his suffering and death - is not to make us feel "bad." Rather, we naturally lament and feel sorrow for what he underwent on our behalf. This should stir us to contrition and a resolve to amend our sinful ways, having been put in mind of what God was willing to undergo so that we might be saved. A verse from a beloved Passiontide hymn captures it succinctly: "Love to the loveless shown that they might lovely be."
Naturally, there is a long history of devotion to the Passion. One of those devotions is Stations of the Cross, which we will offer beginning this evening and the next two Fridays. Much art and music has also been created meditating on Christ's passion, and I encourage you to take advantage of the wealth of material available for your own devotions. One of my favorite Passiontide texts, a hymn by William Walsham How (1823-1897), is printed below, and there are links to the traditional hymn and anthem settings by both John Ireland and Philip Moore provided for you here.
It is a thing most wonderful,
almost too wonderful to be,
that God's own Son should come from heav'n,
and die to save a child like me.
And yet I know that it is true:
he chose a poor and humble lot,
and wept and toiled, and mourned and died,
for love of those who loved him not.
I sometimes think about the cross,
and shut my eyes, and try to see
the cruel nails and crown of thorns,
and Jesus crucified for me.
But even could I see him die,
I could but see a little part
of that great love which, like a fire,
is always burning in his heart.
And yet I want to love thee, Lord;
O light the flame within my heart,
and I will love thee more and more,
until I see thee as thou art.
I pray that we may all find this Lent to continue to be meaningful as we journey ever closer to the foot of the Cross on Calvary's hill. There we will see God in his true moment of Glory -- a God who reigns in weakness -- a God whose love for us is so great that he will empty himself of all but love -- and we will discover that unconditional love to be vindicated at Easter. But first, we must stand and behold our Lord in his suffering.
Faithfully,
Fr. Benjamin +
