March 12, 2022 (Lent Week 1)

 


Wood relief of Jesus & Thomas

(Notre Dame, Paris)

 

 

Psalm 1391-17 (NLT)

1O Lord, you have examined my heart

and know everything about me.

2You know when I sit down or stand up.

You know my thoughts even when I’m far away.

3You see me when I travel

and when I rest at home.

You know everything I do.

4You know what I am going to say

even before I say it, Lord.

5You go before me and follow me.

You place your hand of blessing on my head.

6Such knowledge is too wonderful for me,

too great for me to understand!

7I can never escape from your Spirit!

I can never get away from your presence!

8If I go up to heaven, you are there;

if I go down to the grave, you are there.

9If I ride the wings of the morning,

if I dwell by the farthest oceans,

10even there your hand will guide me,

and your strength will support me.

11I could ask the darkness to hide me

and the light around me to become night—

12but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.

To you the night shines as bright as day.

Darkness and light are the same to you.

13You made all the delicate, inner parts of my body

and knit me together in my mother’s womb.

14Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!

Your workmanship is marvelous—how well I know it.

15You watched me as I was being formed in utter seclusion,

as I was woven together in the dark of the womb.

16You saw me before I was born.

Every day of my life was recorded in your book.

Every moment was laid out

before a single day had passed.

17How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.

They cannot be numbered!

 

I recently attended a silent retreat.  Following the Ignatian tradition, the intent was to seek the joy of the resurrection.  As the retreat opened we were invited to find a prayerful position, notice our breathing, slow down and name what we hope for, what we need.  After one slow breath, tears were quick to prick my eyes.  Joy has taken a beating in the last year.  Resurrection joy felt a long way off and my answer to the question of “what do you need” was simple – I long to put my finger in the wounds.  Like Thomas, I knew peace would come, perhaps even joy, if I could just touch Him. 

 

In the contemplation that followed that invitation, I noted a growing shame around this longing.  Why do I have to be the messy one, the one that needs to touch him?   Why does belief feel like a wrestle sometimes… often, in recent months.  One of the gifts of silence is we are invited to sit in those places of discomfort, desolation and allow Jesus to reshape us.  As I meditated on Jesus words to Thomas (John 20:24-29) they moved from accusation to invitation:  Can you stop doubting me now?  Can you believe?   I imagined those hands extended to me, my forehead pressed into his palm, my own whispered response:  I’ll obey.  I will try.  As I turned from that passage to one of our readings, Psalm 139, I was reminded how profoundly I am known and understood by God.  “O Lord, you have examined my heart and know everything about me… You know my thoughts even when I am far away… How precious are your thoughts about me, O God.  They cannot be numbered”.  My wrestle is no surprise to Him.  He knows that I am the kid that is just going to need to touch His hands some days.  He does not despise me for it.  This was my glimpse of resurrection joy. 

 

If the wounds of the world have created a kinship with Thomas in your soul, know God opens his hands to you and says - place yours here, I will help you believe. 

 

- Pamela Ukrainetz

 

 


 

 

 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

March 8, 2022 (Lent Week 1)

Image
  He is holy. He is King.  I can’t read things like these (Psalm 45, 47, 48, Mark 1) and not have that truth jump out all over the place. The one who brings the kingdom of God with him everywhere he walks, into every encounter he has, every person he talks to - Jew, Samaritan or Gentile, it doesn’t matter. It says that in the end, EVERY knee will bow, EVERY tongue confess that he is Lord; he is holy and he is King. Because of his humility and his obedience, he is exalted to the highest place above every other name. That’s the kind of king we serve. That’s the kind of king we love. And wow, how worthy he is! I guess when we look towards Lent, our focus is often on the cross, and as important as that is, I can’t help but keep my gaze beyond. Eyes set on the resurrection, on the one with conquered death for the joy set before him, on the one who brings life and life in abundance.  He is holy. He is King.  It always makes me laugh reading about the disciple...
Read more

March 30, 2022 (Lent Week 4)

Image
  Mark 8: 11-26   In some passages in the gospels, the humanity of Jesus is never more striking than in the display of emotion that can accompany his words. Jesus’s tears at the grave of Lazarus are a particularly unforgettable example, but other emotions well up within him: anger in the Temple at the sight of money-changers desecrating its sanctity, sorrow in the Garden of Gethsemane, and here a more subtle emotion: exasperation. It first comes out when the Pharisees ask him to come up with a better sign from heaven than all the miracles of feeding and healing that they had previously witnessed. Jesus’s response to the request is to “sigh deeply,” to lament: “Why does this generation ask for a miraculous sign?” and to walk away. The event weighs on his mind and he tells the disciples: “Be careful, watch out for the yeast of the Pharisees and that of Herod.” An attitude of unbelief can spread like a virus, or in Jesus’s terms, infuse and corrupt a whol...
Read more

April 5, 2022 (Lent week 5)

Image
  This last Sunday, April 3 in church as I was in a pew at the far back of the church and as everyone began to process to the altar for communion, I began to reflect on journeys. The church year sees many different journeys, both in liturgy, and in its people, so it felt very fitting that my readings for reflection included 3 of the psalms of songs of ascent; Psalms 121, 122, and 123.          Throughout the entire service I found myself reflecting on how St. Augustine’s has grown, changed, and adapted over the 8 years I have attended. This came in thinking of the journeys of others in the parish over the years, wondering how Alex is in grade 12 already, hoping that David is enjoying his time on the island, gratitude for everything that Muriel has done during her years, amazement in the wonderful clergy of past and present. As these thoughts came and went, I began to reflect that everyone else has also seen my journey ove...
Read more