HOLY WEEK: Choices

for Holy Saturday

What way is there left to choose
after what’s been done 
to who we’ve chosen? 

This is not what I expected, Abba— 
you said come, costly, 
but all I could see was a new road
to the tree of life on a far hill,
those thousands of desperate feet 
leaping like deer and 
I didn’t believe you. 

Now you tell me wait, joy,
but all I can see is a shorn tree, 
ivory bones the only moon in 
noonday darkness, 
what’s left of the garden 
from knives and scattering feet
and I still don’t believe you.

But these coals and hillside skin
I do remember, and the fire 
that lived low in your eyes 
when you said Abba, 

when you asked your questions too 
when the sun had dipped 
so bloody low and
you chose.

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“CAN YOU TAKE 30 MINUTES OF YOUR DAY TODAY TO SIMPLY SIT AND WAIT IN JOYFUL ANTICIPATION? NOTICE WHAT COMES UP IN THIS TIME OF STILLNESS.”

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Fran Westwood is an emerging Canadian poet writing from Toronto. She writes poems that help her pay attention, often on finding belonging and bridges in diverse landscapes.

Fran’s work has been published by Contemporary Verse 2, the Poetry Pub and For Women Who Roar. She has pieces forthcoming in Prairie Fire, Inanna's Canadian Women Studies journal and in a 2021 collection by Flying Ketchup Press.

HOLY WEEK: RAPHA; A MOVING MEDITATION

Rapha is a visual experience that meditates on the crucifixion death of Christ. The video engages the physical senses through sound, sight and the kinesthetic. The viewer is invited in to experience the strips of linen, in which they describe binding Jesus’ wounds with in John 19:40 - which says, "Taking Jesus' body, the two of them wrapped it with the spices in strips of linen, in accordance with Jewish burial customs." 

Jesus embodied suffering through his death and resurrection. With the same strips of linen they bound his wounded body, our wounds are bound as well. It takes great care and intention to care for another's wound. John 19:38-40 tells the story of two of the most unlikely men, in the covering of the night, who took Jesus' body down from the cross and wrapped it with oils and strips of linen. They had loved him and cared for him even in his death. With all their hope now darkened there was nothing else they could do, so they cared for him with this tender act of the binding. In Psalm 147:3, the Hebrew word for "bind" is "RAPHA" which means “to heal.”

As you watch the video, consider the following prompts for reflection:
The dancer embodies the surrender we must have to allow Christ’s death to become our healing as we offer our own wounds to be bound. The loosening of the cloth represents the freedom that comes with healing. 
What might you need to surrender in order to allow your wounds to be bound by the linen? 

What/how does the visual experience of the strips of cloth make you feel? 

When else in Jesus’ life is he wrapped in linen for the sake of the world? 

Along with his, our wounds can be wrapped and encircled by the strips of linen and laid in a grave to be healed and resurrected as new life. However, surrender must precede the binding. Just as Jesus surrendered all on the cross, we must surrender and allow him to see our wounds. Many of us go through life too scared to face our pain, and our wounds are left unattended. That's when they can fester and manifest in ways such as anger, rejection, disappointment, loneliness, depression, numbness, inadequacy or anxiousness. These feelings will eventually manifest themselves through the body in some way. We are physical beings meant to experience all things through our body, which Christ showed us with his time on earth. The very foundation of our faith is built upon the death and resurrection of Christ’s physical body.

I created this meditative video to engage with the binding up of our wounds in a tactile, vivid way to not only engage spiritually but also physically with the healing presence of God.

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Libby John holds a BS from the U of MN with an emphasis in dance. She’s been teaching dance technique for 15+ years and also does freelance choreography for local schools, universities and churches. Her work has been performed at the MN Fringe Festival, Project Dance NYC and YWAM School of Dance Studies. Also a singer/songwriter, Libby has released two albums of original music since 2017. She created and hosts the podcast “Art & Faith Conversations” to highlight more voices of professional artists of faith and encourage others in their search for deeper meaning in their creative identity. She resides in Minnesota with her 3 daughters and husband of 18 years.

HOLY WEEK: ON THE BRINK OF A BARREN LAND

here i stand on the edge
of wildness
on the cusp
of wilderness
on the brink
of a barren land
eyes straining
sight searching
for a road through

Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven
is near!

finally i spot it
a silver sliver
snaking, winding
’round rocky outcrops
through thistle thickets
down deep, dark defiles
this is the way You’ve
made for me?

Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven
is at hand!

surely this
is not the way —
this wasted world
these waterless clouds
that riddling route —
surely this wanting road
is not
the way home
and yet …

Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven
is near you!

here i stand on the edge
of wildness
on the cusp
of wilderness
on the brink
of a barren land
waiting
dreading
longing
to take
the first step

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“THERE IS A LOT GOING ON IN THE WORLD RIGHT NOW. IS THERE ANYTHING PREVENTING YOU FROM FULLY ENGAGING IN HOLY WEEK THIS YEAR? A SPECIFIC EMOTION, A FEAR, A NUMBNESS? WHAT IS HOLDING YOU AT THE EDGE OF WILDNESS AND WILDERNESS?”

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Amelia Freidline has been writing poems since she was 8 and telling stories since she could talk. She is a member of The Poetry Pub and also has six collections of poems, prose, and pictures about the seasons of Advent, Lent, and ordinary life. She lives in her childhood home in Kansas City.