She rode her “motorcycle” across our living room floor. One side to the other, 15 feet maybe, and she said, “Whew! What a journey.” A journey it is for a 5-year-old using her imagination to take her to places with tinkers and princesses and cats in hats and a very curious monkey named George.
Our thoughts this week journey with Jesus. We try to imagine the crowds pressing in on him and friends turning their backs on him. The highs and lows of a journey he knew he was born for. To die for.
We try to create some times to journey with our men to a place that can draw us closer to Jesus. Closer to the grace he came to share.
We share a meal with them because this is communion. It’s how Jesus shared with followers and sinners; the cheating tax collectors , a cup of water from a woman. This meal a symbol of the Passover meal. The Seder. Each element is explained and eaten, taking in a bit of His body, His blood. The three matzoh representing the Trinity in our celebration and the middle piece is broken just as Jesus’ life was.
We raise 4 cups throughout the ceremony and a final cup celebrating the Israelites freedom and now celebrating our freedom from sin.
Again, the Prayer Labyrinth is constructed in a hollowed out place that a week ago had piles of old clothes. Cast-off’s from others moved to make room for our journey of communion with Christ this sacred week.
The stones we’ll touch and hold as we consider our burdens as we let them drop in the water. Dropping our cares to His living water of life and peace. The station with the magnets and compass. An annual reminder for me as to the distractions that pull me away from His direction. He is the true north and points the way but things are pulling at me like the magnet pulls at the compass.
At the center of it all, the cross. The cross used to shame and be death but for us can be life. So we hung a picture of the face of Christ on this cross with the word life across it. This is truth. It’s shrouded in black to remind us of pain and his suffering. For us. For me. But it is life. Will always be life.
And later today, the hardest of times to “celebrate” but the most important. The act that made grace possible. That makes life possible. It is a celebration all be it a quiet one. A hard one. It’s not over. It’s just beginning.