What the Early Church Taught about Holy Week and Easter

It is long-held Tradition, based on the Biblical texts, that Jesus died on a Friday and rose from the dead on a Sunday, which would place the Last Supper on a Thursday night. Scripture tells us that Jesus rose from the dead "early on the first day of the week" (Mark 16:2, RSV). It was on the same day (the first day of the week) that Jesus met his apostles on the road to Emmaus (Luke 24:1). John also confirms that Jesus rose on a Sunday (John 20:1). The early Church Fathers universally held that Jesus rose from the dead on a Sunday, and worshiped on Sunday, "The Lord's Day." The Fathers also testify to the Institution of the Eucharist on a Thursday and a Friday crucifixion of Jesus. Even though Jesus tells us that he was to be in the heart of the earth for three days and three nights, in ancient Jewish reckoning, this included partial days. Thus, Jesus was saying that his time in the earth would span three days (Friday, Saturday, and Sunday). Saint Justin Martyr (writing in 150 AD) testifies to both Sunday worship and a Friday crucifixion of Jesus:

But Sunday is the day on which we all hold our common assembly, because it is the first day on which God, having wrought a change in the darkness and matter, made the world; and Jesus Christ our Saviour on the same day rose from the dead. For He was crucified on the day before that of Saturn (Saturday); and on the day after that of Saturn, which is the day of the Sun, having appeared to His apostles and disciples
. . . . (First Apology 67)

The Didache (70-90 AD) also mentions Sunday worship, and fasting on Fridays (likely connected to Jesus' crucifixion that day):

Let not your fasts be with the hypocrites... but fast on the fourth day and the Preparation (Friday)...But every Lord's day gather yourselves together, and break bread, and give thanksgiving after having confessed your transgressions, that your sacrifice may be pure (8, 14).

The Apostolic Constitutions (late 4th century) verifies the same chronology. Note that, based on Scripture, this document provides the rationale for the dates of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, Holy Saturday, and Easter Sunday.

And on the fifth day of the week (Thursday), when we had eaten the Passover with Him, and when Judas had dipped his hand into the dish, and received the sop, and was gone out by night, the Lord said to us: "The hour is come that ye shall be
dispersed, and shall leave me alone" (V:3:XIV).

. . . it being the day of the preparation (Friday), they delivered Him to Pilate the Roman governor, accusing Him of many and great things, none of which they could prove . . . . [Jesus] commanded us to fast on the fourth and sixth (Friday) days of the week; the former on account of His being betrayed, and the latter on account of His passion (V:3:XIV, XV).

But when the first day of the week (Sunday) dawned He arose from the dead, and fulfilled those things which before His passion He foretold to us, saying: "The Son of man must continue in the heart of the earth three days and three nights" (V:3:XIV).

Virtually every Church Father who addresses the issue agrees with the traditional dating of a Thursday Last Supper, Friday Crucifixion, and Sunday resurrection. This includes those Church Fathers and writings mentioned above, but also Ignatius (105 AD), Pseudo-Barnabas (120 AD), Clement of Alexandria (195 AD), and many others. This chronology is firmly based on Scripture, and universally verified by Tradition.

Text Source: All About Holy Saturday; Image: The Road to Resurrection

Good Friday

I often don’t know what to do with Good Friday. Somehow this day with Jesus is most profound when I do nothing, allowing Jesus to do everything.

After the stripping of the altar last night, everyone left the church in silence. June and I drove home with little to say. We jotted down the addresses of a few homes for sale in a small corner of McDonough, Georgia, while driving around. Then we headed back to Jackson Lake.

I woke up this morning early. After Prayers I went outside to put a few things away in case of rain. In an hour or so we’ll drive back to McDonough to help the parish at First Baptist Church provide and serve dinners for an anticipated three hundred less fortunate people who surely need and appreciate a decent meal. No doubt there will be preaching and singing of songs. While I will listen, I suspect that mostly I'll simply try to help out as best I can whether serving dinners, doing what's asked, or simply enjoying the faces of people whom I'd like to know.

While I realize that some of us will worship in various churches (the folks at St. Luke’s Lutheran Church in McDonough will do the ten evangelical “Stations of the Cross”), my own Good Friday afternoon will most likely be a walk somewhere as I look for some quiet time, some opening for solitude and silence. During that time (if it comes), I’m not sure what I’ll do, say, think, or whatever. I might well be at a loss for words and thoughts, more of less feeling empty, dried out. It during such times when I may not know how to pray that I remember what Francois de Salignac Fenelon (1651-1715) once said:

MANY are tempted to believe that they no longer pray, when they cease to
enjoy a certain pleasure in the act of prayer. But, if they will reflect that perfect prayer is only another name for love to God, they will be undeceived.

Prayer, then, does not consist in sweet feelings, nor in the charms of an excited imagination, nor in that illumination of the intellect that traces with ease the sublimest truths in God; nor even in a certain consolation in the view of God: all these things are external gifts . . . .

Remember our Lord abandoned by his Father on the cross: all feeling, all reflection withdrawn that his God might be hidden from him; this was indeed the last blow that fell upon the man of sorrows, the consummation of the sacrifice.

Never should we so abandon ourselves to God as when He seems to abandon us. Let us enjoy light and consolation when it is his pleasure to give it to us, but let us not attach ourselves to his gifts, but to Him; and when He plunges us into the night of Pure Faith, let us still press on through the agonizing darkness.

Moments are worth days in this tribulation; the soul is troubled and yet at peace; not only is God hidden from it, but it is hidden from itself, that all may be of faith; it is discouraged, but feels nevertheless an immovable will to bear all that God may choose to inflict; it wills all, accepts all, even the troubles that try its faith, and thus in the very height of the tempest, the waters beneath are secretly calm and at peace, because its Will is one with God's. Blessed be the Lord who performs such great things in us, notwithstanding our unworthiness.

Christian Perfection, VII, On Prayer

Today is Maundy Thursday, and anticipating Jesus coming to us in the Eucharist tonight. June and I will be at St. Luke Lutheran Church, a little store-front place in McDonough. Georgia. Several days ago we met the parish's pastor, Robb Harrell, a once-long-ago Baptist who became Lutheran because the Holy Gospel is articulated and celebrated so beautifully in the Divine Liturgy. (among other reasons). Pastor Robb has a fine sense of the evangelical-catholic tradition so often apparent in the Lutheran Church, and we’re looking forward both to hearing his homily tonight and participating in the Eucharist under his pastoral presiding.

Earlier today during Morning Prayer, June and I decided to read the fourth reading from the our lectionary because we probably will not be able to say Evening Prayer (getting to St. Luke's Eucharist requires driving considerable distance.) What a delightful surprise it was to find out that the fourth reading in our prayerbook for Thursday in Holy Week is from John Calvin’s Short Treatise on the Holy Supper of our Lord: we read it slowly and carefully; you will want to do the same:

But as the blessings of Jesus Christ do not belong to us at all, unless he be previously ours, it is necessary, first of all, that he be given us in the upper, in order that the things which we have mentioned may be truly accomplished in us. For this reason I am wont to say, that the substance of the sacraments is the Lord Jesus, and the efficacy of them the graces and blessings which we have by his means. Now the efficacy of the Supper is to confirm to us the reconciliation which we have with God through our Savior’s death and passion; the washing of our souls which we have in the shedding of his blood; the righteousness which we have in his obedience; in short, the hope of salvation which we have in all that he has done for us. It is necessary, then, that the substance should be conjoined with these; otherwise, nothing would be firm or certain. Hence we conclude that two things are presented to us in the Supper, viz., Jesus Christ as the source and substance of all good; and, secondly, the fruit and efficacy of his death and passion. This is implied in the words which were used. For after commanding us to eat his body and drink his blood, he adds that his body was delivered for us, and his blood shed for the remission of our sins. Hereby he intimates, first, that we ought not simply to communicate in his body and blood, without any other consideration, but in order to receive the fruit derived to us from his death and passion; secondly that we can attain the enjoyment of such fruit only by participating in his body and blood, from which it is derived.

Johm Calvin's witness to the reality of Holy Communion is remarkably full--high, deep, and wide! His understanding of the Eucharist is profoundly catholic. Calvin says unequivocally that in order to receive Christ’s benefits we must receive Christ himself as their only source. This, of course, is the orthodox, evangelical, and catholic understanding of Holy Communion. Christ gives us himself in the Eucharistic bread and wine; all subsequent blessings come from him.

All this is important because as a Lutheran (who affirms with the church catholic that we receive the Real Presence of Christ in the Sacrament of the Altar), I was erroneously told years ago that Calvinists were under the impression that the Lord’s Supper was "only" a symbol of Christ’s presence in the world. Calvin, the spiritual father of our Presbyterian friends, certainly thought otherwise. For him Christ is the authentic “substance” of the sacrament and only by receiving him in the Eucharist do we receive the gifts and fruits he offers, namely the forgiveness of sins and newness of life.

As you attend Holy Communion tonight, may the holy catholic church in all of its various manifestions (Lutheran, Episcopalian, Roman, Presbyterian, Orthodox, Methodist, among others) give you opportunity to receive Our Lord Jesus in the sacrament of the altar so that you are filled with his divine presence as our Incarnate Lord. Living with the presence of Christ deep within your mind, soul, and body leads to forgiveness, regeneration, adoption, and resurrection. On Maundy Thursday, let the fullness of Christ abiding in you show you how to live to the glory of the Father in the unity of the Holy Spirit.

Holy Week, 2009

On Palm Sunday (also known as Sunday of the Passion), June and I visited St. John Lutheran Church in Griffin, GA, and we were welcomed by Pastor Katie Pasch and her parishioners. Joining some thirty or forty other worshippers, we began the service by walking slowly into the sanctuary, palm fronds in our hands, while singing a Palm Sunday hymn. During the service parishioners, previously assigned "voices" in the passion narrative of St. Mark, read most of chapter 14. Pastor Katie preached a fine homily on the second reading from Scripture, God's word in Chapter 2 of Phillipians. The Eucharist itself, simple and chaste (if that's the right word) was marked with clear articulations of "the Body of Christ for you" and "the Blood of Christ for you." After the final blessing, we shared breakfast with a number of parishioners, all of whom were welcomingly full of Christ's hospitality. It was a wonderful way to enter Holy Week. Now we look forward to the rest of Holy Week: Morning and Evening Prayer with special hymns, readings, and collects; the Paschal Triduum--Maundy Thursday and the Stripping of the Altar, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday. And then we enter the Easter Vigil and arrive at the Feast of the Resurrection.

As together we pass through this week, each in her or his own way by parish and church tradition, June and I pray for deep repentance over our waywardness, a solid determination to amend our lives, and the overarching compassion and mercy of God so that his presence in both repentance and determination brings us to Easter with gladness.

As always, remember God's beloved poor and strive mightily to serve justice.

Bearing Witness

The following is the text of a sermon George Hunsinger preached in 2006.

The question that Dietrich Bonhoeffer asked himself, his students, and his readers remains as urgent now as when he first raised it: Who is Jesus Christ for us today? Bonhoeffer by no means intended to challenge the authoritative biblical answer. What he confessed with the prophets and the apostles, he attested at the cost of his life. He affirmed that Jesus Christ is the Risen Lord who had become incarnate for our sakes in order to die for our sins and liberate us from the power of death. That was the answer presupposed in every other possible answer to his question. It was the one answer that contained all others within itself.

But Bonhoeffer knew that other answers were indeed included within that one answer. He knew that in dying for our sins, Jesus Christ had made the sufferings of the world his own. He knew that discipleship to Christ meant participating in Christ’s sufferings in the present time. “The hungry need bread,” he once wrote, “and the homeless need a roof; the oppressed need justice and the lonely need fellowship; the undisciplined need order and the slave needs freedom.” Because Jesus had entered into our world of sorrows, and because he had taken up the cause of those in need, making their cause to be his own, Bonhoeffer could continue: “To allow the hungry to remain hungry would be blasphemy against God and one’s neighbor, for what is nearest to God is precisely the need of one’s neighbor” (Ethics, p. 137).

Read more . . . .

Get Radical: Root Yourself in Christ

I've just started reading Ched Myer's Binding the Strong Man: A Political Reading of Mark's Story of Jesus, certainly one of the best commentaries I've read on the Mark's powerful witness to Jesus. Myers describes his reading of Mark as radical, that is, deeply "rooted" in Jesus' Palestinean toil and soil (radical comes from the Latin radix, root). Daniel B. Clendenin must have been reading a good dose of Myers because his essay on next Sunday's radical Good News is "right-on" Myers. While I don't want to plagiarize Clendenin by copying his entire posting, I want you to start here and then make your way to Journey with Jesus.

Palm Sunday or Passion Sunday: "He's No Friend of Caesar!"

Sixth Sunday in Lent 2009
For April 5, 2009

Lectionary Readings (Revised Common Lectionary, Year B)

Psalm 118:1–2, 19–29, Mark 11:1–11 .John 12:12–16

For three years Jesus criss-crossed the villages of Galilee teaching in synagogues, preaching the good news of God’s kingdom, and healing the sick. Thousands of people trampled each other just to get a look at him (Luke 12:1). Some people responded positively, for reasons that were both good and bad. Many others responded with rejection, resistance, and unbelief. To say that at the end of those three years he was a controversial figure would be a gross understatement.

Toward the end of those three years Jesus “resolutely set his face toward Jerusalem.” When he entered that city for the last time, knowing full well that betrayal, persecution and death awaited him, it’s easy to imagine that he was greeted by his largest and most boisterous crowd. His so-called “triumphal entry” on what we call Palm Sunday triggered the beginning of the end for Jesus.

What began on Sunday with a religious procession ended Friday morning with a public display of state terror. Excited children waving palm branches were quickly forgotten when violent mobs shouted death chants. The adulation of the crowds evaporated into abandonment by his closest friends.

By Good Friday, Jesus's disciples argued among themselves about who was the greatest, Judas betrayed him, Peter denied knowing him, all his disciples fled (except for the women), and Rome employed all the brutal means at its disposal to crush an insurgent movement — rendition, interrogation, torture, mockery, humiliation, and then a sadistic execution designed as a "calculated social deterrent" (Borg) to any other trouble makers who might challenge imperial authority.

Jesus's "triumphal entry" into the clogged streets of Jerusalem on Good Friday was a deeply ironic, highly symbolic, and deliberately provocative act. It was an enacted parable or street theater that dramatized his subversive mission and message. He didn't ride a donkey because he was too tired to walk or because he wanted a good view of the crowds. The Oxford scholar George Caird characterized Jesus's triumphal entry as more of a "planned political demonstration" than the religious celebration that we sentimentalize today.

Read more now . . . .

Image: Jesus before Pilate, Seymour E. Bottex, Haiti.

March 31: John Donne

Tomorrow we remember John Donne. An especially good "Lenten" poet, Donne is one of my favorites. As we prepare for Palm Sunday and Holy Week, perhaps this sonnet provides an opportunity for reflection:




Holy Sonnet X: Death, Be Not Proud

Death, be not proud, though some have callèd thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so;
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleep, which yet thy pictures be,
Much pleasure, then from thee much more, must low
And soonest our best men with thee do go,
Rest of their bones and soul's delivery.
Thou art slave to fate, chance, kings and desperate men
And dost with poison, war and sickness dwell,
And poppy or charms can make us sleep as well
And better than thy stroke; why swell'st thou then ?
One short sleep past, we wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die.

Icon of John Donne

The chief thing that separates us from God is the thought that we are separated from God.

Thomas Keating, Open Mind, Open Heart

Image from Humanity Matters: Toward an Incarnational Spirituality by Rich Vincent

Prayer and Action on Matters of Justice

Last Monday evening June and I attend a meeting of Building a United Interfaith Lexington through Direct Action (BUILD) at Immanuel Baptist Church in Lexington. Quite an event! For a full report, see "Putting heat on the city for affordable housing." Inasmuch as the co-chair of BUILD is Pastor Ron Luckey of Faith Lutheran Church, we were with him in prayer as we saw him work prophetically, confronting the Mayor Jim Newberry of Lexington on behalf of the poor. The mayor was told in no uncertain terms that even in these economically hard times (when we can provide millions for the 2010 World Equestrian Games!), it is a miscarriage of justice when "18 percent of Lexington's 48, 357 renter households spend more than half their gross household income on rent." When asked if he would find funding for the creation of affordable housing, the Mayor flatly said "No." That NO was greeted by an absolute silence as we Christians registered our dismay at the Mayor's lack of imaginative commitment. In response Pastor Luckey expressed his disapproval and enormous disappointment. "We expect a great deal more from our elected officials than what you have given us tonight," Pastor said. Undeterred, BUILD will continue to bear witness to the powers until justice for the poor is achieved. Newberry will hear from BUILD again!

This is exactly the kind of direct action that churches throughout our nation need to be doing in witness to their Lord who, as we heard two Sundays ago in John's Gospel, upturned the tables, not only to disrupt the commercialism of the temple but at the same time overturn the tables of the corrupting and powerful political machine at Jerusalem.

The one-hour BUILD program, attended by nearly 1300 Christians representing 21 churches, was well organized, powerful in its witness, and an encouragement to all who pray for and witness to the power of God. Within the Body of Christ and through the Church, God continues to love and help the poor and set the prisoners--in this case, prisoners of high rents!--free. Be sure to remember the poor, those who are oppressed economically, and all who support BUILD in your prayers.

March 25, The Annunication: Pregnant with the Messiah

Today is the Feast of the Annunciation in the Church's calendar. We celebrate the day when the Blessed Virgin Mary said Yes to God exactly nine months before Christmas, the Nativity of Jesus.

In every Evening Prayer we sing or say the Magnificat, the Song of Mary, as Luke preserves it in his Gospel. When we pray the Magnificat, we not only remember that Mary is the Theotokos, the Mother of God, but we also realize that each one of us is pregnant with the Son of God, who lives inside of each individual, in our hearts. Because Christ is in you and me, we want to see life with his eyes, listen to life with his ears, walk the sidewalks with his feet, and handle all of life with his hands. Seeing everyone and everything with the mind and heart of Christ allows us to grow into the fulness of his stature.

Tonight June and I will sing a special hymn, "For All the Faithful Women," 419 in Evangelical Lutheran Worship. It's sung to a lovely Finnish folk tune. Here's the first verse:

For all the faithful women
Who served in days of old,
To You shall thanks be given;
To all, their story told.
They served with strength and gladness
In tasks Your wisdom gave,
To You their lives bore witness,
Proclaimed Your power to save.

In each subsequent stanza we give thanks, one by one, sometimes two by two, to God for numerous faithful women whose life stories are told in the Bible. Miriam; Hannah; Ruth; Mary, the Mother of Our Lord; Martha and Mary; The Woman at the Well, Mary Magdalene, Dorcas, and Eunice and Lois.

Stanza 6, in which we give thanks for Mary, the Mother of Our Lord, sings this way:

We honor faithful Mary,

fair maiden, full of grace.

She bore the Christ, our brother,

who saved our human race.

May we, with her, surrender

ourselves to your command

and lay upon your altar

our gifts of heart and hand.

May all of you, with Mary, proclaim the greatness of the Lord today!

Published after Thomas Merton's death, The Inner Experience: Notes on Contemplation, ed. William H. Shannon (San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco, 2003) is one of his most exciting and exacting set of reflections on contemplative living. Here is a typical passage:

The life of contemplation in action and purity of heart is, then, a life of great simplicity and inner liberty. One is not seeking anything special or demanding any particular satisfaction. One is content with what is. One does what is to be done, and the more concrete it is, the better. One is not worried about the results of what is done. One is content to have good motives and not be too anxious about making mistakes. In this way one can swim with the living stream of life and remain at every moment in contact with God, in the hiddenness and ordinariness of the present moment with its obvious task. (66)

It was with Merton's spirit that this afternoon I replaced the battery of the lawnmower, fixed one of its flat tires, and mowed a good bit of the yard. And I'm asking God that with Merton's kind of spirit I will go to Immanuel Baptist Church tonight to participate in a "Building a United Interfaith Lexington through Direct-Action" (BUILD) meeting, a city-wide ecumenical gathering anticipating over 1500 people gathered to meet with the mayor to require affordable housing for the city's poor.

By the way, the deacon at the Eucharist yesterday, after the pastor's final blessing, said: "Let us go in peace" and then added "and serve the poor." Great reminder! With a hearty response, the parishioners all cried out, "Thanks be to God!" Very Merton-ish!

Give me the strength that waits upon You in silence and peace. Give me humility in which alone is rest, and deliver me from pride which is the heaviest of burdens. And possess my whole heart and soul with the simplicity of love. Occupy my whole life with the one thought and the one desire of love, that I may love not for the sake of merit, not for the sake of perfection, not for the sake of virtue, not for the sake of sanctity, but for You alone.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

When what you thought was faith was an illusion

In New Seeds of Contemplation (New York: New Directions Press, 1961), Thomas Merton warns us about confusing faith with feeling good about God and ourselves:

How many people are there in the world of today who have "lost their faith" along with the vain hopes and illusions of their childhood? What they called "faith" was just one among all the other illusions. They placed all their hope in a certain sense of spiritual peace, of comfort, of interior equilibrium, of self-respect. Then when they began to struggle with the real difficulties and burdens of mature life, when they became aware of their own weakness, they lost their peace, they let go of their precious self-respect, and it became impossible for them to "believe." That is to say it became impossible for them to comfort themselves, to reassure themselves, with the images and concepts they found reassuring in childhood.

Place no hope in the feeling of assurance, of spiritual comfort. You may well have to get along without this. Place no hope in the inspirational preachers of Christian sunshine, who are able to pick you up and set you back on your feet and make you feel good for three or four days-until you fold up and collapse into despair.

Over and over, again and again

The Church’s traditional Morning and Evening Prayers have two parts: those parts that we say over and over each morning and evening and those parts that change day by day—readings from the Bible. For example, this morning as we began our prayers, June and I said Psalm 95 (as always) and later prayed the Song of Zechariah, Luke 1.68-79 (as always). Inbetween those two “repeatables,” we will sing Psalms 95, 96, and 97 and then read to one another selected passages from Jeremiah and Paul’s Letter to the Romans as we work our way through God’s Word, day by day. So our prayers have two parts: the "same old, same old" and the new every day. (There is also a third part: our intercessions, praises, and thanksgivings, many of which are spontaneous in nature.)

You might ask, “Why do we say some things the same way every single day?” That’s a good question. Perhaps something of an answer can be found in a story Anne Lamont retells in her disarming Plan B: Further Thoughts on Faith:

There’s a lovely Hasidic story of a rabbi who always told his people that if they studied the Torah, it would put Scripture on their hearts. One of them asked: “Why on our hearts, and not in them?” The rabbi answered, “Only God can put Scripture inside. But reading sacred text can put it on your hearts, and then when your hearts break, the holy words will fall inside. (73)

The rabbi is right. Reading sacred texts until you know them by heart really does allow the holy words to fall inside us when we really need them. I have found this falling happens in two ways. First, there are times when I want to pray Morning Prayer, but for whatever reason I may not have my prayerbook with me. Nevertheless, because I have sung Psalm 95 and the Song of Zechariah over and over again, I have them memorized and can sing them whenever I need them, sometimes when taking a morning walk, sometimes when driving, sometimes when standing in line at a grocery store. Even without my prayerbook, I can pray in the morning. But second, and equally important, when life crashes down on me (as it often has and does), God's morning songs and canticles, lying as on my heart, frequently and miraculously fall into my heart when I desperately need them. In other words, at times in my dark places, the morning Songs sing themselves to me. People have often said that this sort of singing also happens to those who say the Jesus Prayer over and over. God has fortified me with his word when I need for him to talk to me.

Billy Graham in his old age said that he wished that he had memorized more of Scripture so that he could lean upon God’s holy words in his later years. Saying the same words in Morning and Evening Prayer, over and over, again and again, is a big step in that direction.

So don’t be afraid of saying God’s word, the same holy word over and over. When you need His words, they will tumble down into your heart.

Image Source: Russian icon of Zechariah, holding a scroll containing the opening words of the Benedictus (18th century, Kizhi Monastery, Russia).

An Irish Friendship Wish

This morning my daughter Amy sent me this wish, and I'd like to pass it on to you!

May there always be work for your hands to do;

May your purse always hold a coin or two;

May the sun always shine on your windowpane;

May a rainbow be certain to follow each rain;

May the hand of a friend always be near you;

May God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.

When we were at the monatery several weeks ago, we noticed that in the mountains of eastern Kentucky, at the end of February, the daffodils were already blooming. When I return to Richmond, however, it took at least ten more days for the daffodils in my garden to nose their way out of the ground, spring up and then wave their yellow blossoms as a grand "hello" to the sun. So it was yesterday, working in the garden, that I stooped low to take this picture and share with you these harbingers of spring (along with the pussy willows). And, of course, while looking that them, I couldn't but remember Wordsworth's lovely poem.

"Daffodils" (1804)

William Wordsworth (1770-1850).

I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the Milky Way,
They stretch'd in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance,
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced; but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay,
In such a jocund company:
I gazed -- and gazed -- but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

March 17: St. Patrick's Day

When we were in Ireland last year, six of us were able to visit The National Cathedral and Collegiate Church of Saint Patrick in Dublin and Saint Patrick's Church of Ireland Cathedral in Armagh, both dedicated to the memory of St. Patrick, whose festival day we celebrate tomorrow. As Daniel B. Clendenin reminds us, "recovering reliable historical information about many of the saints is difficult if not impossible, and Saint Patrick (c. 390–461) is no exception. Born in Scotland, Patrick was imprisoned and taken to Ireland when he was about sixteen years old. He retuned to Scotland, only to have a dream in which the people of Ireland called out to him, “we beg you, holy youth, to come and walk among us once again.” He did return, and although the details are obscure and the legends are large, he wandered and ministered in Ireland for over thirty years, converting the nation."

When you rise from your bed tomorrow and go to your prayers, you may wish to include "The Prayer of St. Patrick" as part of your Daily Office:

I arise today

Through a mighty strength,

the invocation of the Trinity,

Through a belief in the Threeness,

Through confession of the Oneness

Of the Creator of creation.

I arise today

Through the strength of Christ's birth and His baptism,

Through the strength of His crucifixion and His burial,

Through the strength of His resurrection and His ascension,

Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.

I arise today

Through the strength of the love of cherubim,

In obedience of angels,

In service of archangels,

In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,

In the prayers of patriarchs,

In preachings of the apostles,

In faiths of confessors,

In innocence of virgins,

In deeds of righteous men.

I arise today

Through the strength of heaven;

Light of the sun,

Splendor of fire,

Speed of lightning,

Swiftness of the wind,

Depth of the sea,

Stability of the earth,

Firmness of the rock.

I arise today

Through God's strength to pilot me;

God's might to uphold me,

God's wisdom to guide me,

God's eye to look before me,

God's ear to hear me,

God's word to speak for me,

God's hand to guard me,

God's way to lie before me,

God's shield to protect me,

God's hosts to save me

From snares of the devil,

From temptations of vices,

From every one who desires me ill,

Afar and anear,

Alone or in a multitude.

I summon today all these powers between me and evil,

Against every cruel merciless power that opposes my body and soul,

Against incantations of false prophets,

Against black laws of pagandom,

Against false laws of heretics,

Against craft of idolatry,

Against spells of [men and ] women and smiths and wizards,

Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul.

Christ shield me today Against poison, against burning,

Against drowning, against wounding,

So that reward may come to me in abundance.

Christ with me,

Christ before me,

Christ behind me,

Christ in me,

Christ beneath me,

Christ above me,

Christ on my right,

Christ on my left,

Christ when I lie down,

Christ when I sit down,

Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,

Christ in the mouth of every man who speaks of me,

Christ in the eye that sees me,

Christ in the ear that hears me.

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,

Through a belief in the Threeness,

Through a confession of the Oneness

Of the Creator of creation.

Since becoming an oblate, I more or less thought my prayer life would some become easier, more dedicated, more focused. That's not happened. I'm reminded of this little story told in Desert Wisdom: Sayings from the Desert Fathers [ed. Yushi Nomura (Garden City, NY: Doubleday, 1982)] about the Desert Elder Agathon:

The brothers asked Abba Agathon: Father, which of the virtues of our way of life demands the greatest effort? He said to them: Forgive me, but there is no effort comparable to prayer to God. In fact, whenever you want to pray, hostile demons try to interrupt you. Of course they know that nothing but prayer to God entangles them. Certainly when you undertake any other good work, and persevere in it, you obtain rest. But prayer is a battle all the way to the last breath. (103)

For me "the hostile demons" come in a variety of ways: old habits that linger on into my later years: procrastination, a second glass of wine when I really don't need it, an annual March ennui, the low grey clouds, rot-gut eating, low-grade headaches. Some are minor demons, at least one major, but all hostile nonetheless. I can say the morning office with some profit, but withhout any semblence of intensity. The only real thing I continue to know during these past few days is that I'm aware that prayer is hard work. Agathon is right. No one ought to have any delusions about how hard it is to pray. It doesn't come naturally. God must help us.

Praying and working in Haiti / Dr. King's Photographs

In January a group of thirteen Lutherans and Methodists went to Haiti. Dr. Joe King on the University of Kentucky medical faculty worked as our photographer, and he's invited you to see his "Haiti Slideshow." Travel to http://photoking.zenfolio.com/p290900660, use the password mesi (that's Creole for "Thank you"), be our companion as we fly down to Port au Prince, stay a while at the Village of Hope, and then take off for the mountain village of Ranquitte, where we built a small home for a Haitian family in desperate need of shelter. You'll enjoy the trip.

Image: Pastor Larry Bollinger, Director of the Village of Hope, with two children from the Little Children of Jesus Orphanage in Port au Prince, the capital of Haiti.