When you woke up this morning, did you say “TGIF – Thank God it’s Friday!” as many have done over the years on Fridays when they were looking forward to the weekend?
But 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. That’s a strange way to talk 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? What could possibly be “good” about any of that?
It would be a lot easier to forget the relevance of this day in general. And it would be a lot easier, in light of the political upheavals around us, to say that there’s little or nothing “good” about this day.
Perhaps an answer lies in the word ‘good’? 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?
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.”
Perhaps Good Friday can be a day when we remind ourselves that ,in the Christian understanding of hope, nothing, not even death, can overwhelm the love God has for each person.
Perhaps then, this day is not an ending. Rather, it is a day of a new beginning. TGIF. Thank God It’s Friday.
Americans have been experiencing a lot of intense days. And a growing number of Americans are realizing that they were duped by their incumbent President … betrayed by him – someone they thought cared about them and would make America great.
Many years ago, on this day, known in the Christian tradition as Maundy Thursday, the man named Jesus of Nazareth, was about to be betrayed … betrayed by someone who said he cared about, ‘loved’, him. That man, Judas, betrayed his friend, his mentor, his rabbi – Jesus. What drove Judas to such action? What drives anyone to betray another?
Perhaps those questions give rise to another question: “When someone is betrayed, has God been betrayed?” Perhaps reflecting on these questions may help get to the answer.
… When a desire for wealth or fame has overwhelmed the call to be persons of justice and mercy – has God been betrayed?
… If we name ourselves Christian, yet think unloving thoughts about another, act in ways that are not compassionate or kind or just – has the Holy One been betrayed?
… When selfishness prioritizes ‘wants’ before the ‘needs’ of others – has the Creator been betrayed?
… When we refuse to be uplifted, enabled, and transformed by the wisdom or experience of another – have we rejected gifts given by the Creator
… When we only see how right we are and ignore the learning that comes in acknowledging that we have made a mistake – have we betrayed the Source of All Being?
… When we will not accept God’s support and grace, strengthening us for the tasks we have been asked to undertake, or the new ministry roles we are challenged to experience – have we betrayed the Beloved Rabbi?
… When we say we love God, yet have answered ‘yes’ to any of the above – is our connection to the man known as Judas, tangible?
While today, Maundy Thursday, is a day to feel the pain and shock of Judas’ betrayal, it can also be a day to reflect on moments in our own lives … when we have betrayed God … when we have not forgiven another … when we have spoken, or thought unkindly of another, betraying our common humanity by our words, thoughts, tweets, texts, social media comments.
On this holy day, whether or not we ascribe to the Christian faith, may we receive the story of the man, Jesus, in a spirit of humility, and draw closer to one another, mindful of the ways betrayal has been part of our life. And, in spite of it, may we know that we are loved by the One who always loves unconditionally and who invites us to do likewise to others by expressing kindness, compassion and justice.
This night at sundown, a question was asked by the youngest child present at a special dinner – a Seder – in Jewish homes: “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.
Then the same child asks Four Questions which emerge from that first question: * 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?
And each of the answers to those questions on this night every year, explains why things are done differently that night: * 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 and to those of no particular religious faith. And, if so, what could those lessons be?” 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 … 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, here in Canada as well as in Panama and Greenland and Cuba. 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 those challenges were then, they 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 nd 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.
So on this, the first night of Passover, to those who follow the path of Judaism, may the miracle of Passover live in your hearts forever. Chag Pesach Sameach!
In today’s intense world where alternative facts masquerade as truthful statements … where Executive Orders bring confusion and fear … where outrage is commonplace … where inner peace is quickly disappearing … where concerns and fears about compromised health, terrorism, disasters, broken relationships, economic crises, political harangue and other stressors bring confusion, frustration, anger, and fear, a Spirituality of Play may seem to be a curious matter.
But, more than ever, I believe that a Spirituality of Play” is an attitude that needs to be cultivated in society, in educational systems, in families, by seniors and adults and by children and youth so they can become adults who live balanced lives where laughter, joy and hope are intrinsic throughout their adult life.
And that brings up the subject of today known by many as April Fool’s Day. Where did that begin and what’s it all about? Some link it to the 1564 adoption of the Gregorian calendar which moved New Year’s Day from late March/early April to January 1st and those who clung to the original date were mocked as ‘April fools’ (poisson d’avril in French, meaning “April fish,” a symbol of gullibility). Before that, the Roman Hilaria and the Hindu Holi festival (spring equinox) involved pranks and revelry, and Medieval Europe’s Feast of Fools featured role reversals and mischief.
From the Greek word selig (which means blessed) comes the English word silly. I like to think that there is something sacred about the ability, to be silly, to play, to laugh, to be child-like.
Many faith traditions (Christian and Hasidic storytellers, Zen masters, Taoist sages) encourage us not to take ourselves too seriously. These prophets have an important role in the spiritual life because they espouse the spiritual practice of play. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote “It is a happy talent to know how to play.” Author Margaret Guenther wrote “When we play, we also celebrate holy uselessness. Play, in its disinterestedness and self-forgetting, can be fruitful.”
When we play … when we enjoy the fullness of life with its curiosities, frivolities and insensibilities … when we don’t take ourselves too seriously, play (like prayer), can be healing: healing to the body, mind and soul.
Interesting fact — when Hindus speak of the creation of the universe, they don’t call it the ‘work’ of God, they call it the ‘play’ of God … ‘play’ being sacred and holy.
When we play, we leave behind the daily stressors and allow our spirit to breathe and re-create. Literature, the arts, various traditions and holidays remind us of the importance of play of giving ourselves permission to be silly and foolish. And Russian artists from the 15th century often featured the yurodivy, a kind of “holy fool” in their paintings.
April Fool’s Day is a day for laughing, for playing gentle jokes and for trying to trick friends. For example, in some places in Europe, paper fish (poisson d’avril) images are put on people’s backs and play pranks on one another … in the UK, Ireland, the US and Canada, people play pranks until noon shouting “April Fool”, stopping their pranks at noon because after that is considered to be bad luck … in Scotland, there’s the two day tradition of “Hunting the Gowk” – sending people on fake errands … in Brazil, there’s Dia da Mentira (“Lie Day”) with the telling of jokes and fake news … Japan adopted western-style pranks in the 20th century … and in Iran, Sizdah Bedar (April 1–2) involves outdoor picnics and playful deceit. On the last day of the nature festival ‘The Hill’ in India, people have fun by sending friends on impossible errands such as finding a stick with only one end … in Native American traditions, Coyote is the Trickster … while in the Aztec tradition, Coyote is referred to as ‘God’s Dog’ … and in Hollywood, Wil E. Coyote always played tricks on the Roadrunner.
Modern twists on April Fool’s Day have brought media and brands embracing the tradition of hoaxes along with social media which seems to have an increase in memes for fun and play, not for real.
A Spirituality of Play helps us live with mystery, paradox and absurdity. It can open doors of flexibility, intuition, vulnerability, and doors of child-like innocence and spontaneity. If we can believe that the Creator created anteaters, duck-billed platypuses, giraffes clownfish, pink flamingoes, and us (!), surely it’s not surprising that the Creator has a great sense of humour and encourages us to laugh – and play!
It’s true – age creeps up, surprises us, reminds us of our mortality. Chronological aging is one thing. And growing old is another thing.
Perhaps many grow old because they stop playing? Play comes in many forms: laughter, dancing, doodling, board games, running with the dog along the beach, playing bridge, engaging in a sport, playing an instrument, creating anything … a shed, a dress, a poem, a painting, a piece of calligraphy, a meal, a book, a piece of pottery, a magazine article, a computer program, a piece of sculpture, a photograph, a monogram, a garden, a scrapbook, a bookcase …
I may be aging more quickly than I would like, and my body may be showing its age a bit more every day, but I refuse to grow old. Even if it’s only a bit each day, I try to play a little each day. This week I’ll be playing with paper products to create a handmade card for a friend who is unwell. When it’s cooler outside, I’ll be playing in the garden. And then there’s the recipe book I borrowed from the library that is inviting me to play in the kitchen and try out some new recipes. I suppose I could look at these three ‘play’ activities and see them as ‘chores.’ But I don’t. Perhaps ‘attitude’ is an important role in the aging process?
My beloved husband, Hans, was 85 (!) years young when I took this photo of him playing with bubbles in a local park. Hans was a pen and ink artist, calligrapher, retired engineer – a serious intellect who spoke many languages, read, discussed, imagined. Truly a Renaissance man. In his later years, he grew to understand the importance of incorporating a Spirituality of Play in his life and joined me in a daily mantra “Each day, I ‘age’, but I don’t ever want to ‘grow old.
If I reach Hans’ age, I want to still be incorporating a “Spirituality of Play” every day, in some way. What about you?
Balance is important for us and important for tulips, too.
Too much sun and they die prematurely. Not enough rain and same thing happens. But when Mother Nature provides a lovely balance of sunshine and rain … ahhhh, beauty.
Today, a rainy day and the tulips are loving every single drop. Capturing this almost-blossoming-tulip in the back yard, seemed to serve as an illustration of this Soulistry blog about balance.
When the busyness of life grabs us, or when we think we have no time, energy, creative juice or zest for life, perhaps it is time to ask ourselves “Where’s the balance?” Maybe we don’t allow ourselves to simply “be” and instead, we focus on ourselves as a “human do-ing” rather than a “human be-ing.”
Instead of doing things which drain us to the point that the passion-to-create or the desire to spend quality time with self/family/close friends is no longer paramount (or maybe even existent) in our daily activity, maybe it’s time to give ourselves the gift of Presence … a time when we nurture our Spirit … are gentle with ourselves … breathe in calm, peace and healing … breathe out anxiety, fear and pain.
Maybe it’s time to recognize that we don’t have to “do it all” … that saying “no” or “not at this time” is exercising wisdom … that acknowledging our vulnerability isn’t weakness, but strength in self-awareness.
Giving the gift of Presence to ourselves can become the catalyst for the precious balance s o necessary to a life where the spirit grows, personhood evolves and healing, health and wholeness can emerge.
May we give ourselves the Gift of Presence this coming week.
When life hits unexpectedly, it hurts. and when it hurts, it can wound
… not just physically
… not just emotionally
… not just spiritually
… not just intellectually
sometimes … all four.
When life hits unexpectedly and pain results … when life brings exhaustion beyond imagining … when the rain of sadness is in our heart what then?
Hopefully
… the Holy One of Compassion will be with us,
holding us close when we are weary, hurt, alone. (May Holy Compassion be with us)
… the Holy One of Mercy will be with us, forgiving those who have caused pain, forgiving ourselves, forgiving Holy Other. (May Holy Mercy be with us – you / me)
… the Holy One of Gentleness will be with us,
caressing us with sunlight, rain and summer winds
and shining through us to all who hurt and are lonely. (May Holy Gentleness be with us)
… the Holy One of Wonder will be with us,
delighting us with sunrises, daisies, songs, baby’s laughter,
enchanting our senses, filling our hearts, giving us wide-open eyes. (May Holy Wonder be with us.)
… the Holy One of Simplicity will be with us,
opening us to a clear vision of what is truth
and dealings with others will be marked by honesty, which is simplicity. (May Holy Simplicity be with us.)
… the Holy One of Patience will be with us,
waiting with outstretched arms
and encouraging us to “be still, deep within ourselves.” (May Holy Patience be with us.)
… the Holy One of Love will be with us,
listening, drawing us close as we tremble, lighting fires of faith and hope in hearts. (May Holy Love be with us.)
… the Holy One of Tenderness will be with us,
enfolding us with the desire to bring warmth
to those who are dis-eased in body, mind or spirit. (May Holy Tenderness be with us.)
… the God of Strength will be with us,
holding us close, on eagle’s wings
and we will be the sacrament of God’s strength to others. (May Holy Strength be with us.)
… the God of Peace will be with us,
stilling the heart that hammers with fear or doubt or confusion,
bringing the warm mantle of peace cover those who are troubled or anxious. (May Holy Peace be with us)
… the God of Joy will be with us,
thrilling us with holy nearness,
filling our heart to fullness, and our soul with an awe that is profound. (May Holy Joy be with us)
… and hopefully, the God of Forgiveness will be with us,
encouraging us with strength, peace, and love. (May Holy Forgiveness be with us)
… so that “when life hits”
we have a sense
that we are not alone.
Amen. So be it. Amen.
This prayer can be adapted for personal use by using the word “me” or “you” in place of “us”
