The Painted Prayerbook

Image: Lazarus Blessing © Jan Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Lent 5: John 11.1-45

He cried with a loud voice, “Lazarus, come out!”
—John 11.43

I wonder if it gave him pause. I wonder if Lazarus, stirring in his four-day tomb and beginning to feel the grave clothes weighing on his waking skin, had to take a moment to consider. When he heard that cry from beyond the threshold of his tomb; when he awoke to that voice, beloved but already growing strange to ears that had begun to settle into the silence; when that command came and challenged the dead calm of the grave, did Lazarus give a thought to staying put? It cannot have been easy, feeling the pulse of life tickle at the flesh already loosening from his limbs. Was he tempted to simply roll over and turn his face toward the wall so that he could continue his slide into decay?

Nobody goes into the tomb to pull Lazarus out; no one crosses into his realm to haul him to this side of living. Lazarus has to choose whether he will loose himself from the hold of the grave: its hold on him, his hold on it.

Only when Lazarus takes a deep and deciding breath, rises, returns back across the boundary between the living and the dead: only then does Jesus say to the crowd, “Unbind him, and let him go.” Not until Lazarus makes his choice does the unwinding of the shroud begin, and the grave clothes fall away.

I have written about this passage—a favorite of mine—on other occasions and invite you to visit Lent 5: Unbinding Words and Unbinding Words: Part 2. As we move deeper into the Lenten path, what might you need to let go of, to loose yourself from, so that you can move with freedom into the life to which Christ calls you?

Here is a blessing for your journey ahead. Peace to you in your waking, rising, living days.

Lazarus Blessing

The secret
of this blessing
is that it is written
on the back
of what binds you.

To read
this blessing,
you must take hold
of the end
of what
confines you,
must begin to tug
at the edge
of what wraps
you round.

It may take long
and long
for its length
to fall away,
for the words
of this blessing
to unwind
in folds
about your feet.

By then
you will no longer
need them.

By then this blessing
will have pressed itself
into your waking flesh,
will have passed
into your bones,
will have traveled
every vein

until it comes to rest
inside the chambers
of your heart
that beats to
the rhythm
of benediction

and the cadence
of release.

—Jan Richardson

Update: “Lazarus Blessing” appears in Jan’s new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

Bonus round: For a song that will bless your ears and your soul, click the player below to hear the wondrous “Rise Up” by my husband, Garrison Doles. It’s from his CD House of Prayer.

[To use the “Lazarus Blessing” image, please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Resources for the season: Looking toward Lent

And blogging daily at Sanctuary of Women during Lent…

A Tender and Grimy Grace © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Lent 4 (April 3): John 9.1-41

The season of Lent invites us to get up close to the things of the earth. Ash, wilderness, water, dirt, mud: these days impress upon us what an elemental fellow Jesus was. Throughout his ministry we see him touching the world around him, employing the things of earth to reveal the things of heaven.

In this week’s Gospel lection we see Jesus use earthly elements as he brings sight to a man who is blind. His acts of healing, of teaching, of preaching, of praying do not come from thin air: Jesus grounds these acts in, well, the ground. Although the Christian tradition, as it developed, would make sharp distinctions between matter and spirit, Jesus seems less inclined to do so.

I have dug into this muddy text previously and welcome you to take a look at Lent 4: Here’s Mud in Your Eye. In this Lenten week, how are you seeing? Is there anything you need to clear from your field of vision so that you can see more clearly? How grounded are you these days? Where do you perceive the presence of Christ in elemental, earthy things?

Here’s a blessing for this stretch of your Lenten path. Peace to you in this season.

Blessing of Mud

Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the dirt.

Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the earth
beneath our feet.

Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the dust

like the dust
that God scooped up
at the beginning
and formed
with God’s
two hands
and breathed into
with God’s own
breath.

Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the spit.

Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the mud.

Lest we think
the blessing
is not
in the mire,
the grime,
the muck.

Lest we think
that God
cannot reach
deep into the things
of earth,
cannot bring forth
the blessing
that shimmers
within the sludge,
cannot anoint us
with a tender
and grimy grace.

Lest we think
that God
will not use the ground
to create us
once again,
to cleanse us
of our unseeing,
to open our eyes upon
this ordinary
and stunning world.

[To use the “A Tender and Grimy Grace” image, please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Resources for the season: Looking toward Lent

Blogging also at Sanctuary of Women during Lent…

Well Blessed © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Lent 3 (March 27): John 4.5-42

With this week’s Gospel passage, the lectionary continues to trace a watery way through the wilderness of Lent, calling us to be mindful of God’s provision even in the desert places. This text fairly drenches us as it draws us into the story of the Samaritan woman who meets Jesus while making her daily visit to the well—Jacob’s well, as both the narrator and the woman point out; the well established by a man who knew about meeting God in the midst of one’s journey.

The encounter between Jesus and the unnamed woman offers something of an icon of the Lenten season and the invitation it extends to us. If we give ourselves to a daily practice, if we keep taking our vessel to the source even when we feel uninspired or the well seems empty or the journey is boring, if we walk with an openness to what might be waiting for us in the repetition and rhythm of our routines, we may suddenly find ourselves swimming in the grace and love of God that goes deeper than we ever imagined.

In his Gospel, John did not record the name of this woman who became the first evangelist. The Eastern Orthodox tradition, however, filled in that gap, naming her Photini or Photina (meaning “the enlightened one” or “resplendent”) and also designating her an apostle and a saint. For more about Saint Photini, visit Suzanne Guthrie’s reflection “The Well of Love” at her lovely blog Come to the Garden.

I have lingered at the well with the Samaritan woman and Jesus on another occasion and invite you to stop by Lent 3: The Way of Water for that reflection. As you travel through this season, what are you finding in the midst of your daily rhythms and routines? Are your habits and practices drawing you closer to the sustenance you need or pulling you farther away from it? What are you thirsty for?

As you continue on your Lenten way, here is a new blessing for the next leg of your journey. Peace to you.

Blessing of the Well

If you stand
at the edge
of this blessing
and call down
into it,
you will hear
your words
return to you.

If you lean in
and listen close,
you will hear
this blessing
give the story
of your life
back to you.

Quiet your voice
quiet your judgment
quiet the way
you always tell
your story
to yourself.

Quiet all these
and you will hear
the whole of it
and the hollows of it:
the spaces
in the telling,
the gaps
where you hesitate
to go.

Sit at the rim
of this blessing.
Press your ear
to its lip,
its sides,
its curves
that were carved out
long ago
by those whose thirst
drove them deep,
those who dug
into the layers
with only their hands
and hope.

Rest yourself
beside this blessing
and you will
begin to hear
the sound of water
entering the gaps.

Still yourself
and you will feel it
rising up within you,
filling every hollow,
springing forth
anew.

[To use the “Well Blessed” image, please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Resources for the season: Looking toward Lent

Blogging also at Sanctuary of Women during Lent…