Easter Week

Ursuline Maria Cimperman will be our speaker this Saturday at our April Community Days weekend. Her topic is "From Paralysis to Analysis: toward a socially conscious spirituality." Additionally this weekend is our annual recognition of our major benefactors--at the Benefactors' Brunch Sunday morning. This is always a delightful affair, a good time to "touch base" with some people we only see a couple times a year.

Easter

He is risen, Alleluia, alleluia, alleluia!

Easter Sunday

"Thirst"

Another morning and I wake with thirst for the goodness I do not have. I walk out to the pond and all the way God has given us such beautiful lessons. Oh Lord, I was never a quick scholar but sulked and hunched over my books past the hour and the bell; grant me, in your mercy, a little more time. Love for the earth and love for you are having such a long conversation in my heart. Who knows what will finally happen or where I will be sent, yet already I have given a great many things away, expecting to be told to pack nothing, except the prayers which, with this thirst, I am slowly learning.

Mary Oliver

Holy Saturday

"Making the House Ready for the Lord"

Dear Lord, I have swept and I have washed but still nothing is as shining as it should be for you. Under the sink, for example, is an uproar of mice--it is the season of their many children. What shall I do? And under the eaves and through the walls the squirrels have gnawed their ragged entrances--but it is the season when they need shelter, so what shall I do? And the racoon limps into the kitchen and opens the cupboard while the dog snores, the cat hugs the pillow; what shall I do? Beautiful is the new snow falling in the yard and the fox who is staring boldly up the path, to the door. And still I believe you will come, Lord: you will, when I speak to the fox, the sparrow, the lost dog, the shivering sea-goose, know that really I am speaking to you whenever I say, as I do all morning and afternoon: Come in, Come in.

Mary Oliver

Good Friday

"Gethsemane"

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye
that shuts until morning.

Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.

The cricket has such splendid fringe on its feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.

Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did,
maybe the wind wound itself into a silver tree,
and didn't move,
maybe the lake far away, where once he walked
as on a blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wide awake.

Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut,
that could not keep that vigil,
how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be a part of the story.

Mary Oliver

The Triduum

I'll be posting a Mary Oliver poem each day through Easter Sunday. Her book, Thirst, has so many spiritual-seeker reflections. Perfect for the next few days.
I hope you like them.

"The Poet Thinks about the Donkey"

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
clatter away, splashed with sunlight!

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

Mary Oliver

Our community website has some new things on its opening page. If you haven't been there you'll enjoy them. Here.

And to the amazement of all

For our third Lenten community gathering we were asked to choose our favorite story from 40 Stories to Stir the Soul our Lenten reading. Here was mine, #39: "A handful of wheat grains was found in the tomb of the ancient Egyptian kings. The grains were five thousand years old. Someone planted the grains and watered them. And to the amazement of all, the grains came to life and sprouted. After five thousand years!"

We were given a choice of five groups to join for expressing and sharing: drama, art, song, poetry or dance. I chose poetry--not wanting to miss the rare opportunity. Here was one of our "exercises": One line from each story was given and we were to write it five times and finish the phrase. From #39 the line was: And to the amazement of all...

An apt beginning for your Holy Week, try this "spiritual exercise." Here's a start for you:
1. And to the amazement of all,
the grains came to life.
2. And to the amazement of all,
the maimed child spoke of peace.
3.
4.
5.