When you woke up this morning, did you say “TGIF – Thank God it’s Friday!” as many have done over the years on Fridays as they were looking forward to the weekend?
This Friday isn’t just “any” Friday. It’s different. It’s Friday in Holy Week. A Friday that many refer to as Good Friday. But what can be “good” about a day when Jesus the man, raw from the lashes of a whip, was laid out, arms stretched and bound with ropes to the rough surface of a wooden cross beam, wrists pierced with sharp spikes, feet nailed on a wooden beam, his exhausted body craving release from his suffering, his spirit grieving by the rejection and betrayal of others?
It would be a lot easier to forget the relevance of this day in general, and also in light of what is happening because of political upheavals and many would say that there’s little or nothing “good” about this day.
Other parts of the world have different words for this day – some Germans refer to today as ‘karfreitag,’ (the ‘kar’ being an obsolete ancestor of ‘mourning’) … elsewhere, some parts of the world call today “Mourning Friday,” putting attention on the disciples who grieved and mourned. And then there are those who follow the belief that this day was originally called “God Friday,” hypothesizing that today is “good” because Jesus was demonstrating his love for humanity by offering his life.
But if that is so, why die in such a brutal manner? Why die so young? Why take on the sinfulness of all humanity on a deathbed after a fruitful life of showing and teaching people the way to God?
Maybe there is yet another way to understand today’s reference to “good.”
In early modern English, the meaning of ‘good’ had the sense of ‘holy.’ So perhaps the ‘good” is an archaic form of holy. But we actually don’t know the answer. It’s all conjecture.
Good Friday is unresolved. It’s a tragic and terrible day. War, threat of the loss of democracy and personal crises make today even more terrible and tragic.
But, regardless of what we call this day, it is a day when we face reality head-on … when we are fully conscious that the Christian walk is seldom easy and at the same time, are aware of Grace in God’s unconditional love.
Titus Brandsma was a university President in the Netherlands during WW11. Arrested by the Nazis, placed in a concentration camp, isolated in an old dog kennel, tortured daily, his guards amused themselves by ordering him to bark like a dog when they passed by him. Eventually Titus died from the torture. What the Nazis didn’t know was that Brandsma kept a diary during that time, writing between the lines of print in an old prayerbook. It was there that his poem to Jesus was found: “The lovely way that you once walked has made me sorrow-wise. Your love has turned to brightest light this night-like way of mine. Stay with me Jesus, only stay. I shall not fear if, reaching out my hand, I feel that You are near.”
Good Friday is a day when we remind ourselves that in the Christian understanding of hope, nothing, not even death, can overwhelm the love God has for us.
This day is not an ending. It is a day of a new beginning. It is a holy day. TGIF. Thank God It’s Friday.
We’ve come to Wednesday. Not an easy week any year, but this year even more difficult for many Christians who are reflecting both on the this week known as Holy Week, and the political climate of the world with its serpentine growth of fascism around the world – and even in their own country.
Some Christians are even asking ‘Where is God?’ and beginning to question the reality of Jesus, God, the Creator, Holy Presence, Holy One.
May this story (by an unknown author – which I’ve adapted), be a reminder that whether we experience it or not, God is “checking in.”
***************
A minister passing through the old church at noon, noticed a man coming down the aisle. The man hadn’t shaved in a while; his shirt was torn and shabby; his coat was worn and frayed. He knelt, bowed his head, then rose and silently walked away. In the days that followed, the minister noticed this man kneeling, just for a moment, a lunch pail in his lap. The minister’s curiosity grew. He introduced himself and then asked “What are you doing here?”
The old man said he was a factory worker. As his lunch-time break was his prayer time for finding strength and power but was only half an hour. “I stay only a moment because the factory’s far away. As I kneel here talking to God, this is kinda what I say: “I just came by to tell you, God, how happy I have been since we found each other’s friendship. I don’t know much of how to pray, but I think about you every day. So, Jesus, this is Ben, just checking in today.”
The minister told Ben that he was welcome to pray there any time. As Ben hurried to the door, the minister knelt at the altar. His heart was warmed with love, and tears flowed down his cheeks, and the minister repeated old Ben’s prayer: “I just came by to tell you, God, how happy I have been since we found each other’s friendship. I don’t know much of how to pray, but I think about you every day. So, Jesus, this is just me, just checking in today.”
One day, the minister noticed that Ben hadn’t come to the church in several days. As more days passed and still no Ben, he began to worry. The minister asked about Ben at the factory and learned that he was ill and in hospital. He also learned that the week Ben was in hospital, ‘something’ had changed in the ward … Ben’s smiles and joy were contagious.
The head nurse couldn’t understand why Ben could be so happy, when no flowers, calls or cards came (not even one visitor)m until the minister appeared and voiced the nurse’s concern to Ben.
Looking surprised, Ben spoke up and with a winsome smile said “The nurse is wrong. She couldn’t know, He’s been here all the while and every day at noon, sits right down, takes my hand, leans over and says to me: ‘I just came by to tell you, Ben, how happy I have been since we found this friendship. I think about you always, and I love to hear you pray. And so Ben, this is Jesus, just checking in today.’
On this Wednesday of Holy Week, may we believe that Jesus is “checking in” – giving strength and encouragement. May we all have a “Ben-Faith”: a faith that is simple and profound, a faith that is trusting and hope-filled, a faith that is filled with joy and gratitude for unconditional love and because ,each day, the Creator is “just checking in” – whether or not we believe.
EVIL, That word has been ascribed to people over the centuries: Adolf Hitler, Joseph Stalin, Vlad the Impaler, Pol Pot, Heinrich Himmler, Saddam Hussein, Idi Amin, Ivan the Terrible, and more – including lately to DJT and his minions. And that same word has been ascribed to events: concentration camps; residential schools; torture; migration detention centres, even linked to social media posts.
Where is the hope in all of the continuing evil happening in Ukraine, San Salvador, Sudan, Palestine, Yemen, Somalia, Myanmar, Israel, Columbia, the United States?
Where is the hope in the injustice, suffering, poverty, ruthlessness, vengeful actions of people with power?
This week, known as Holy Week, Christians are reflecting on the “Where is the hope? Where is God” questions with deep intentionality.
Even in the face of terrible suffering, betrayals, there is a message of hope … through perseverance, truth, and faithfulness … that grace is greater than our brokenness …that God’s love remains the anchor even when faith wavers.
Like many, I struggle with that message in the face of such hate, cruelty, and yes, at moments, hopelessness.And yet, in the midst of it all, there are people carrying the torch of hope by “showing up, speaking out, speaking up, voting for democracy and against fascism” even at great personal risk and cost.So when my faith wavers, I pray that I will be of good courage when I fear, have faith when I falter, be able to walk through the shadow, have patience that good will overcome evil, love will prevail over hate and hope will reside deep within us all.
But, even though I choose to believe in goodness … try to speak honestly with love undergirding my words … try to listen to the heart in words that spit anger / hatred / evil and see beneath the anguish of poverty, hunger, fear, suffering of any kind … try to see the soul of the people in pain rather than their race, religion, sexuality, financial state, country of origin, and (lately this has been an increasingly difficult thing to do) their political beliefs, I am not a pollyanna. And some days, even being a person with a high theology of hope, is difficult.
And then I remember that a world without hope is the beginning of the end of a constructive society. So, we have to support one another, pray for one another, talk with one another, be there for one another. Today, Jennifer Vasquez Sura, wife of Kilmar Abrego Garcia, (a Maryland resident with U.S. protected status since 2019 was erroneously deported on March 15, 2025, despite a court prohibition on his deportation to El Salvador’s Terrorism Confinement Center), quietly and courageously spoke about the need to “be there for one another.” In spite of her husband’s horrific situation, she has hope.
There must be hope. Even though the pain is real and the future is uncertain, we must hold on … to the promise of hope … to the possibility of hope …in spite of DJT … in spite of his minions … in spite of Putin … in spite of despots, fascists, wanna-be dictators …in spite of the fear.
Hope is action … in small ways, quiet ways, large ways, noisy ways, visible ways, unseen ways.Hope isn’t a passive act, or simply a reactive or frivolous act. Hope underlies our action and is our connection to continuity as a human species. May hope break through the evil that is happening in political decisions, television, tweets, conversations.SOON.
Today is a special Monday – it’s Monday in Holy Week. Many are feeling alone. Alone – because of the stresses of the world. Alone because of the political crises in the United States, the ongoing war in Ukraine, the threats on Canada, Panama, Greenland and many other places around the world Alone and fearful because of concern about their health, finances, jobs, relationships. Alone – with their thoughts. Alone – with their questions. Alone.
If anyone understands what ‘being alone’ means, especially this week, it surely must have been the man known as Jesus of Nazareth.
Many believe that they are living in a world under the shadow of war … a cloud of difficult days of climate change … loss of democracy … viruses that just won’t leave.
It’s all a frightening reality. The man Jesus, knew about frightening realities.
May this holy week be a time to reflect on what ‘being alone’ is for ourselves, for others and what it must have been like for the man known as Jesus.
May we know who we are. May we know Whose we are. And may we know the Love that surrounds us.
May we be blessed with an abiding sense of love – a Love that envelopes and casts out fear of the known and unknown.
May this day and every day in Holy Week, bring a blessing that touches life in ways we can’t even begin to ask or understand.
May we be blessed by the ability to breathe in Ruach, healing, sanctifying, renewing, be blessed by a precious peace that passes understanding and be blessed by the Love that sustained the man Jesus on this difficult day in Holy Week.
The flower pins, made for friends as a sign and symbol of Love, were made using pieces of white felt and small pearl-like additions in the middle of the flower.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A Soulistry reflection on each day in Holy Week will be available on the Soulistry blog (https://soulistry.com/blog). You are welcome to share any Soulistry reflection and subscribe (https://soulistry.com). As reflections are added, they will come into your inbox (for free, personal information is not retained or sold). ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Weaving is not something I have done very often, but a weaving metaphor seems appropriate when political strands are divided … families are broken … countries are shattering from within … the world seems to be moving away from democratic principles … and people are not reflecting the ideals of peace and love which religious and philosophical leaders have taught and modelled for centuries.
People need a vision – a vision of hope for “where there is no vision, the people perish.”
The Weaving Prayer surfaced on this the eve of Holy Week (the final week of the Season of Lent in the Christian calendar which commemorates the final days of Jesus’ life, leading to his crucifixion and resurrection), known as Palm Sunday. The prayer is for them and for those who may not align with the Christian faith yet also need a vision of hope.
WEAVING PRAYER Weave, O Holy One, our differing threads of opinions, our global fear, our various political strands, our diverse liturgical expressions, our different ways of looking at the world into a sacred tapestry so that we will be empowered to hope and vision a world where Love, not fear, not ego, not pursuit of power, not idolization of money is the centre of decisions, thoughts, actions and conversations.
Great Weaver of all, when we find ourselves regretting the past, when we are uncertain of the present, when we are fearful of the future, help us. May this coming week (Holy Week) be one of hope, not panic. May it be one of gentle reflection, not listening to the fear mongers. And may it be a week of inner response, not reaction which clouds our vision of hope.
O Great Weaver, encourage us not to focus on the underside of the Tapestry where our knottedness, frayed ends, and tattered threads can be seen. but where we may envision the entire Tapestry of community: a tapestry of differing colours, customs, abilities, religions, languages, and ages, as we work together during these difficult days towards a vision of love, peace, respect and kindness. Amen. So be it. Amen.
You are welcome to share any Soulistry reflection and subscribe (https://soulistry.com/blog – it’s free and personal information is not retained or shared) so that the Reflections will come directly into your inbox.
Tomorrow night, Saturday, a question will be asked by the youngest child present at dinner: “Why is this night different from other nights?”
The child asks the same question that has been asked for centuries by Jewish people in times of despair, in times of joy, in times of knowing, in times of unknowing. Tomorrow night is very special for adherents of the Jewish faith as it is when the celebration of Passover begins. And it begins with a Seder – a special meal – with various rituals like the question: “Why is this night different from other nights?” “Ma nishtanah ha-laylah ha-ze mi kol ha-leylot?”
The same child asks the Four Questions which emerge from that first question. Then each of the answers to those questions explains why things are done differently that night: * Why is there no leavened bread, only matzoh (unleavened flatbread)? * Why are only bitter herbs eaten this night? * Why are the vegetables dipped twice, not once, in salt water? * Why is eating done, reclining on one elbow?
Each year on Passover, the same answers come. * Matzoh – because there was no time for the dough to rise * Bitter herbs – as a reminder of the bitterness of slavery * Vegetables dipped in twice – as a reminder of tears shed * Eating while reclining on one elbow – to symbolize freedom.
While I am not of the Jewish faith, I have often been intrigued by this tradition and wondered if Passover can offer lessons to people of other faiths – to those of no particular religious faith. And, if so, what could those lessons be?” And over time, some answers began to emerge.
First – we can learn to ask questions.
I love the tradition of having a child begin the Passover Seder with a question. Children love to ask questions (oh wow, do they ever!), but as we grow older, many stop asking questions and take what others believe to be their truth. Not asking questions has sometimes led to broken relationships, illness, political uncertainty and war. Why don’t we ask more questions? Curiosity is a wonderful attribute!
When I had questions of the teachers at the church my family attended, I heard the same response, over and over again: “All answers are in our books. Look – the answers are there.” I did look, over and over, but I didn’t see answers. What I saw, was more questions. But every time I had a question, the response was the same – year after year, after year.
When I was fifteen, I spoke with my parents, telling them that I wanted to leave that church. “Why?” they asked. I told them that not only wasn’t I finding the answers I was seeking in the two books that undergirded that faith, I was not being allowed to question – at all.
My parents told me in later years that when they heard me say that I believed I had been given a brain to use, and that because I wasn’t allowed to question anything in the church beyond what was in one of the two official books, I was refusing a gift (my intellect) and I couldn’t believe God wanted me to refuse that gift but use it and ask questions and more questions, after talking it over, they agreed, and I was given permission to leave that church – and religion. Even though my mother continued as a leader in that church for many years afterward, neither she nor my father expected me to be part of it. How blessed I was to have them both as parents – parents who invited conversation — who let me “think for myself.”
I have never stopped asking questions. I hope I never will. My sense of curiosity and of asking questions has led me on an exciting – and challenging – journey. I ask questions about religion, history, the Bible, politics, God, the environment, the war in Ukraine, the situation in the Middle East, the situation in the United States, and now here in Canada as well as in Panama and Greenland.
And, I ask questions of myself. I ask questions to political leaders, religious leaders, social media journalists. Sometimes I get answers. Sometimes my questions lead me to more questions. And sometimes, my questions lead me to answers. But without the questions …
So, I love the Passover tradition of having a child ask the question.
Second – we can learn to face life’s challenges.
The Christian Season of Lent and the Jewish observance of Passover speak of people long ago who faced challenges. As difficult as they were then, those challenges were profound teachers.
Today, each of us faces challenges in our lives. As difficult as they are for us, they too can be profound teachers. Facing challenge is not always easy, but it can be a profound way to learn about life, ourselves, God, this world where we live.
Third – we can learn to take action.
The Israelites left Egypt in such haste that they could not wait for their bread dough to rise, so they took action with the dough they had, and created unleavened bread – the matzoh – which sustained them. Action! The life and story of Jesus in Christian belief, is a motivator of action of a literal understanding of ‘love of neighbour’ by those who followed the man Jesus. That story continues to motivate people today into ‘love of neighbour’ … in advocacy, action and justice-seeking.
Fourth – we can learn to share.
Whether it’s food for the body with a meal – or food for the soul with wisdom – the story of a wide table open to all at a Passover Seder … and for those who follow the story of Jesus – the sharing of loaves and fishes … can be gentle reminders of the importance of sharing what we have with others.
Fifth – we can learn to be grateful.
Many religious teachings undergird the importance of having an attitude of gratitude and not take our precious life for granted. May we be willing to learn from other religions and other peoples.
To those who follow the path of Judaism, may the miracle of Passover live in your hearts forever. Chag Pesach Sameach!
For forty days and forty nights, every year, millions of people around the world are involved in sombre reflection and Lenten observance in something called the Season of Lent.
Last and this year, Lent has been a time of darkness in Ukraine, Afghanistan, Ethiopia, Palestine, Iraq, Yemen, Israel, Syria, Somalia, Libya, the Central African Republic, the Democratic Republic of Congo, Myanmar, Colombia, Mali – and who would have thought it, but Canada, Panama, Greenland, the United States too.
While it would be lovely to bypass the Season of Lent, it has its place in the circle of life. And not just for those who observe the Season of Lent as a religious focus. Lent can serve as a reminder that not everything in the world (or in people’s lives) is happy or cheery or going well.
There is darkness in situations that can personally envelope people in a shroud of negativity. An unknown author wrote “If only our eyes saw souls instead of bodies,” and it echoes the cry of many whose value in society seems to be based on others ‘seeing’ them through the lens of financial status, ability, weight, skin colour, age, political belief, gender, sexuality, religion, etc., rather than ‘seeing them’ through the lens of the soul.
What a different world it would be if, instead of talking negatively, criticizing, nagging, finding fault, putting others down (not to mention ourselves), we talked about blessings, spoke about the goodness that ‘is’, and expressed gratitude more than we express frustration, criticism.
Perhaps if this were the focus, it might be easier to see people as souls, and not as unemployed, homeless, disabled, addicted, uneducated, a particular race or colour or religion or age or political belief or financial status etc. By adopting such a focus, it could be easier to relate to ‘the other’ as a person of worth, rather than ignore, pity, judge, bully, ridicule or hate them. It could be easier to see beauty – in others, in our world, within ourselves.
The Season of Lent invites us to metanoia – ‘turn around and focus on a change of heart.’ Some interpret that as ‘repentence.’ While I see merit in such interpretation, my way of encountering the Season of Lent is to focus on change … to change my heart – about other people – the future – myself – and ask “How can I let light in and truly see?”
Lent also has a reputation of being a time to ‘give-up’ (‘fast’-from) chocolate, desserts, social media, etc. I don’t do that. My focus is not on “giving up” but on “letting-in.”
While, I am being aware of the 40 days of Lent, I am not “giving up” something for Lent. And I am not focusing on repenting for things in the past because I try to do that when I realize the error of my ways and then move on, trusting that I am loved and forgiven.
In the Season of Lent, I am choosing to be on the lookout for souls in the lives of all people.
The Season of Lent is coming to a close. This Sunday begins what is known as Holy Week. Then comes Easter. While I know I will be grateful to see the end of the Season of Lent, I hope I continue to let each day be a gentle reminder of the Season of Lent: a time of “seeing-souls.”
Weather-wise,
it is overcast and gloomy.
Nature has arrived in full force
bringing devastation and tragedy.
Politically,
aftershocks of the global tariff war
have begun to arrive in full force
heaping grief, disillusionment, anger and unbelievable fear.
When the going-got-rough for our forbears:
… poverty, war, hurricanes, ill health,
they held on to inheritance of the generations before them
their ancestors
who provided a legacy
of endurance and strength and hope.
Sometimes, that legacy was all they had to hold onto.
These days, it may be all we have to hold onto.
As the mountains in the photo speak of strength
the trees speak of endurance
the roses speak of hope
… all in one photo
inside each of us
through the legacy entrusted us,
by those-who-have-gone-before
is strength, endurance, hope.
In difficult times,
let us “hold on.”
We will.
We must hold on.
Just as our ancestors have, in the past,
one step,
one moment,
at a time
we, too,
will “hold on!”
MAiD (Medical Assistancein Dying) became law in Canada in June, 2016 with a variety of responses. It has been welcomed, ignored, misunderstood, controversial, deemed to be anathema.
Many years ago, the request by a friend to sign as a witness on her MAiD document, made me pause and reflect, once again, on life, on death, on compassion, on personal decision-making about one’s own body and more.
I found myself going back decades ago and a conversation with my mother who wanted to have ‘the conversation’ with me. Having serious health issues, she wanted me to know her thoughts on dying and her wishes. We had ‘the conversation’ many times over the years.
The day in her doctor’s office when he told us that Mom’s kidneys had failed and she would have to go on dialysis immediately, Mom made it very clear that she would not do dialysis. The earlier conversations we’d had over the years were brought into reality.
Mom had often expressed a hope that the Canadian government would let people who had been diagnosed with a terminal illness, make the decision as to the timing of when they would die for themselves in consultation with their doctor. Mom didn’t get her wish. MAiD was not legal at that time.
Before my husband Hans and I married, we talked about our “final wishes” and MAiD emerged in conversations. Hans was born in the Netherlands where they had their own equivalent to MAiD. He had researched it, was a supporter, and when his first cancer diagnosis was pronounced, we revisited our early discussions. With his second cancer diagnosis, he wanted to formalize things with his doctor and let him to know that if the prognosis were terminal with extreme pain and incapacitation, he wanted to be a candidate when the law was passed in Canada.
With his third cancer (terminal esophageal) a few years later, he knew that the extreme pain he dealt with each moment, would get worse as the cancer continued to spread. There was no quality of life for him at that time. He couldn’t swallow; he couldn’t speak above a whisper; he was exhausted and the pain was not being managed. The time had come. He reminded me that his wishes remained strong and steadfast and that if he couldn’t be granted his request in Canada, he wanted to go to the Netherlands where his request would be granted.
He reminded me of our experience with Shandy, our rescue-dog and beloved King Charles spaniel who had been in pain for too long. While the medications helped her somewhat, pain was her daily, ever-increasing experience. The morning we put her favourite cookie in her mouth and she didn’t know what to do with it, we were at a complete loss. The vet diagnosed it as ‘canine dementia,’ and told us that her kidneys had now failed. He could offer no further remedial help.
Shandy had no quality of life. She wasn’t eating. She was in emotional distress and constant physical pain. She was deaf and almost completely blind. The vet asked what we wanted to do. We asked ourselves “Could we love her enough to let her go?”
It was Friday. An appointment was set for the procedure to happen the next morning. “Monday.” I said. “How about we have her with us over the weekend and have the procedure done on Monday?” My wise husband let me talk and cry it out. He had had dogs all of his life and had walked this road with them in the past. Shandy was my first such experience. Hans and I talked and listened to one another in the silence as we held Shandy close to us. And then I heard myself say “Let love speak.”
By rescuing her from a terrible situation so very long ago, she had been given love and a life of freedom from the pain she had endured from a cruel owner. That was then.
Could we give her love and a life of freedom from pain now – even if that meant we would no longer have her with us?
As difficult as it was, we knew that it was our time to give Shandy the gift of unconditional love and let “love speak.”
I will never forget Shandy’s eyes as she sat on my lap on the drive to the veterinarian’s office the next morning. Usually, on the road and at the vet’s, Shandy was agitated. Not that time. This time, she was quiet. She was at peace.
Love spoke. Under the gentle hands of the vet, Shandy gently left us.
Supporting Hans’ decision for MAiD was personally difficult. But in remembering our experience with Shandy, I knew I had to “let love speak” and support my husband’s decision.
When I sit in a doctor’s office and am asked to sign MAiD papers for friends with whom I have spent a lot of time listening to and talking about ‘possibilities’, I remember my mother. I remember Shandy. I remember Hans. And each time, as I sign the papers, I know that the motivation is clear … “Let love speak.”
While I pray that each person whose MAiD paper I sign will leave planet earth gently, in their sleep, I am aware that death may not happen that way. If that doesn’t happen, and they choose to invoke MAiD, I will ‘let love speak’ and support them in any way I can.
And, should such a time come when I make such a decision for myself, I pray that others will ‘let love speak’ and support me in my decision.
May love always speak.
~~~~~~~~~~~~ An aside – this reflection is not intended to cause debate, argument, distress or controversy about the MAiD program in general or in particular. It is a personal reflection only. *****************************
Welcome Spring … Vernal Equinox … to this part of the world. You arrived today! Hurray!
You’re technically here, Spring Equinox, so may we have … a little less cold … no more frost (or snow!) … more sunshine … blossoming flowers and shrubs and plants and trees … chirping birds …happy sounds of children at play outdoors … and compassion, commonsense, integrity, transparency and truth coming from governments and leaders. Please?
When the frost and snow and dreary rains and overcast skies depart, may new life S P R I N G to us all … new life in Nature … new life in aching bodies … new life in relationships … new life in political realms … new life in hope!
Oh how we need spring – spring in our weather – and spring in our souls.
