Archive for the ‘sacred time’ Category

A Women’s Christmas Gift for You

January 4, 2013


Image: Wise Women Also Came © Jan L. Richardson

These three wise women are stopping by with a gift for you. In celebration of Women’s Christmas, which is observed in some parts of the world on Epiphany/January 6, I’ve created a retreat for you. Designed for you to use on Women’s Christmas or whenever you need a space of respite and reflection, the retreat (which you can download as a PDF) offers readings, art, and blessings that invite you to take a pilgrimage into your own life.

There’s no cost for the retreat; it’s a Women’s Christmas gift especially for you! You’re welcome to share it with friends. For a link to the retreat and more about Women’s Christmas, visit this page at my Sanctuary of Women blog:

Women’s Christmas: The Map You Make Yourself

A Merry Women’s Christmas and Blessed Epiphany to you!

Beginning

November 29, 2012


Image: Drawing Near © Jan L. Richardson

Very excited to be beginning Advent this Sunday! I wanted to share a quick reminder that the online Advent retreat that Gary and I will be offering begins this Saturday. There’s still time to register, and we would love for you to join us. You can click the icon below to visit our retreat page, where you’ll find an overview of the retreat, which goes from December 1-29. Know that we’ve designed the retreat so that it’s not simply “one more thing” to add to the holiday schedule, but rather something that slips into the rhythm of your December days and invites you into a bit of reflection and breathing space in the midst of the season. And it doesn’t require showing up at a particular place or time. You can do this retreat in your jammies!

Don’t forget to also check our FAQ page if you have questions, or challenges that might cause you to hesitate to register for the retreat. If you’ve already registered, there’s nothing else you need to do just yet.

I’ve also posted my first reflection of the season at The Advent Door; you can find it at “Advent 1: Drawing Near.” The Advent Door is where I’ll be hanging out, blog-wise, during the coming season, and I’d be glad to have your company there. If you’re not already an Advent Door subscriber, you can sign up to receive the Advent Door blog posts via email; check out the “Subscribe by email” box in the sidebar (near the top, just above the cover for my Night Visions book).

Blessings to you as Advent arrives! I wish you a wondrous season.

Almost Advent

November 21, 2012

It’s almost Advent! As we prepare to cross into the coming season, I am especially excited about what Advent holds in store this time around. At the top of my list of things that are inducing Advent excitement is the online Advent retreat that Gary and I will be offering. Here’s the skinny:

ILLUMINATED: An Online Journey into the Heart of Christmas
December 1-29

Travel toward Christmas in the company of folks who want to move through this season with mindfulness and grace. This online retreat is not about adding one more thing to your holiday schedule. It is about helping you find spaces for reflection that draw you deep into this season that shimmers with mystery and possibility. This retreat offers a space of elegant simplicity, much like the one created in my Advent book Night Visions. Intertwining reflection, art, music, and community, this four-week online retreat provides a distinctive opportunity to travel through Advent and Christmas in contemplation and conversation with others along the way.

This is an Advent retreat for people who don’t have time for an Advent retreat (and for those who do!). You don’t have to show up at a particular place or time, and you’re welcome to engage the retreat as much or as little as you wish. You can do this retreat in your jammies!

We’re excited that the retreat is already drawing folks from around the world. We’d love for you to be among them. For more info about the retreat, visit Illuminated Advent Retreat.

I have other treasures, treats, and resources designed especially for your Advent path; I invite you to stop by The Advent Door to find out more. During Advent, that’s where I’ll be posting new reflections. I look forward to journeying through the season with you there, and returning to The Painted Prayerbook for Epiphany.

Blessings and gratitude to you as Advent approaches!

Pentecost: The Origin of Fire

May 22, 2012

The Origin of Fire © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Book of Acts, Day of Pentecost (May 27): Acts 2.1-21

Gary and I have just returned from spending a few days in Virginia, where we led a retreat and Sunday worship at the wonderful Gayton Kirk, and Gary did a couple of concerts in the Richmond area. Amongst the marvelous folks we spent time with over the weekend were  two young sisters, seven and eight years old, who each gave me a piece of their artwork, and an 87-year-old woman who, after a series of losses, spoke of how she is excited to see what new thing God has in store for her.

On the morning of Pentecost, after the Spirit-scorched disciples are accused of being drunk, Peter reaches back in time as he addresses his accusers, conjuring the words of the prophet Joel. In the last days it will be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams (Acts 1.17,  NRSV,  drawing from Joel 2.28).

Borrowing Joel’s words, Peter reminds us that we belong to a God who has small regard for chronology. In the days to come, Peter and the prophet tell us, God will pour out God’s Spirit upon those of few years as well as those possessed of many years; those with little history or experience will be able to envision things yet to unfold, and the elders who surely must have seen it all will be visited with new dreams of events they could never have imagined.

In the last days, Peter and Joel tell us. Yet the God who is not a slave to chronology, this God who abides in time but is not bound by it, offers us glimpses of how the Spirit moves even in these days. For me, these glimpses come in small moments that linger: young girls whose drawings invite me to see the world through their eyes and imaginations; a woman of great years whose expectant waiting challenges me to ponder where I am looking for new life. Each one draws my vision, my attention, my dreaming toward the God who pours out the Spirit with abandon: this Ancient One who is the origin of fire and sends it forth to make all things new.

For previous reflections on Pentecost, click the images or titles below. And for my subscribers who receive these blog posts via email: if it’s been a while since you’ve visited The Painted Prayerbook online, please stop by and see our new look!

Pentecost: One Searing Word
(includes “Pentecost Blessing”)

Pentecost: Fire and Breath

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

Easter Sunday: Seen

April 6, 2012

Image: I Do Not Know Where They Have Laid Him © Jan Richardson

But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb; and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping?” She said to them, “They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.”
—John 20.11-13

From a lectionary reading for Easter Sunday: John 20.1-18

Reflection for Easter Day

I never fail to be dazzled by this moment when Jesus calls out the name of the woman whom he finds weeping by his tomb. Mary. At the sound of her name, the Magdalene finally sees and knows who has found her there. It is a stunning moment of recognition.

Yet as I spiral back around this passage this week, what draws my attention is not only the way that Mary Magdalene sees Christ when he calls her name. What tugs at me this time is how, in that moment of hearing her name, Mary Magdalene must see herself.

With an inflection that only Christ could have given to it, his speaking of her name conveys everything: all their history, all that passed between them in their friendship, all that he knows of this woman whom he healed and who, along with other women, traveled with him and sustained him from her own resources. He knows her. He sees her. And now he asks her to see herself as he does.

Mary.

In that moment, and in the call and commissioning that will soon come, the risen Christ gives Mary Magdalene to herself. Not, of course, as if he owns or controls her but because, as ever, he knows her and wants to free her from what would hinder her from the life that God desires for her. Long ago, Jesus had released the Magdalene from the septet of demons that haunted her. (“A demon for every day of the week,” writes Kathleen Norris; “how practical; how womanly.”) Now he releases her again, this time from clinging to him, from becoming entangled with him. Where holding onto him might seem holy, Christ sees—and enables Mary Magdalene to see—that her path and her life lie elsewhere. Beyond this moment, beyond this garden, beyond what she has known. In going, Mary affirms that she has seen what she needed to see: not just Christ in the glory of his resurrection, but also herself, graced with the glory that he sees in her.

In the centuries to come, Mary Magdalene will become layered over with other visions that people have of her: other titles, other depictions, other names. Sinner, prostitute, penitent, bride: the stories and legends of who the Magdalene was and what she became will both fascinate us and frustrate our ability to know her. But on this day, the Magdalene we meet in the garden is simply one who has learned to see, and who goes forth to proclaim what she has seen.

This day, what will we allow ourselves to see: of Christ, of ourselves? How would it be to know ourselves as he does, to see ourselves as he sees us, to know that the risen Christ speaks our name, too, and releases us to tell what we have seen? What will you proclaim as you leave the empty tomb this day?

Seen
A Blessing for Easter Day

You had not imagined
that something so empty
could fill you
to overflowing,

and now you carry
the knowledge
like an awful treasure
or like a child
that roots itself
beneath your heart:

how the emptiness
will bear forth
a new world
that you cannot fathom
but on whose edge
you stand.

So why do you linger?
You have seen,
and so you are
already blessed.
You have been seen,
and so you are
the blessing.

There is no other word
you need.
There is simply
to go
and tell.
There is simply
to begin.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Seen” appears in my new book, Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

For previous reflections for Easter Sunday, click the images or titles below.


Easter Sunday: Risen
(includes “Easter Blessing”)


Easter Sunday: Out of the Garden

Last year, Gary and I created a video that weaves images from my “Hours of Mary Magdalene” series with his gorgeous song “Mary Magdalena,” which tells of Christ and Mary Magdalene’s encounter on the morning of the resurrection. Click below to see the video.


The Hours of Mary Magdalene

[To use the image “I Do Not Know Where They Have Laid Him,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. To use the “Hours of Mary Magdalene” video, please visit this page. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Day 39/Good Friday: They Took the Body of Jesus

April 5, 2012

Image: According to the Burial Custom © Jan Richardson (click to enlarge)

They took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews.
—John 19.40

From a lectionary reading for Good Friday: John 18.1-19.42

Reflection for Friday, April 6 (Good Friday/Day 39 of Lent)

Years earlier, when an angel had appeared in a sheep pasture proclaiming good news of great joy, the angel had told the shepherds of a Savior, a Messiah, a Lord whom they would find as a child wrapped in bands of cloth and lying in a manger. Now, on this day, the Savior is wrapped in a spiced shroud of linen cloths, a scented winding sheet to hold him as he lies in the tomb.

It’s tempting to draw a stark contrast between the emotions of those who held Christ at his birth and those who held him at his death. Though joy must have prevailed at the beginning of his life and fear and grief at the end, surely, among those who saw and knew him best, celebration and sorrow were mixed on each occasion. Yet as at the beginning, so at the end: those who love Christ enfold him, tend him, bless him.

Song of the Winding Sheet
For Good Friday

We never
would have wished it
to come to this,
yet we call
these moments holy
as we hold you.

Holy the tending,
holy the winding,
holy the leaving,
as in the living.

Holy the silence,
holy the stillness,
holy the turning
and returning to earth.

Blessed is the One
who came
in the name,

blessed is the One
who laid
himself down,

blessed is the One
emptied for us,

blessed is the One
wearing the shroud.

Holy the waiting,
holy the grieving,
holy the shadows
and gathering night

Holy the darkness,
holy the hours,
holy the hope
turning toward light.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Song of the Winding Sheet” appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

For previous reflections on Good Friday, click the images or titles below.


Good Friday: What Abides


Good Friday: In Which We Get Nailed

The video Listening at the Cross intertwines my series of images on the Seven Last Words of Christ with Gary’s exquisite song “This Crown of Thorns.”


Listening at the Cross

[To use the image “According to the Burial Custom,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. To use the “Listening at the Cross” video, please visit this page. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Day 38/Holy Thursday: Cup of the New Covenant

April 4, 2012

Image: In the Cup of the New Covenant © Jan Richardson

In the same way he took the cup also, after supper, saying,
“This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this,
as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.”
—1 Corinthians 11.25

From a lectionary reading for Holy Thursday/Maundy Thursday:
1 Corinthians 11.23-26

Reflection for Thursday, April 5 (Holy Thursday/Day 38 of Lent)

On a windy spring day long past, my friend Kary and I hurry through the streets of an art festival in downtown Atlanta. I am hosting a Communion service that evening, and we are searching in hopes of finding a potter who has a chalice that we can use. It’s nearly time for the festival to shut down when Kary and I, empty-handed, head down the last street. There, near the end of the street, we find a potter who has begun to pack up his booth. But among the pieces he still has out are several lovely earthenware chalices. I select one, and we leave the festival joyful and relieved, carrying the beautiful cup—the first chalice I would ownand its matching paten.

It has been a long time since I’ve thought of that spring day and the grail quest it held. But that’s what the table invites us to do: to remember, to gather around the cup of memory and the bread of celebration, to enter again into the stories—and the Story—that they hold. In today’s scripture reading, Paul’s telling of the story of the Last Supper is elegant in its utter simplicity. And heartbreaking. And brimming with hope.

In the years and centuries to follow this meal, the Christian tradition will spill vast quantities of ink over the meaning and doctrine of what takes place on this night. Yet Paul’s story, received from Christ and passed along to us, lays bare the essence of the gift: This is my body, Christ says with the bread in his hands, that is for you. Do this in remembrance of me. Cradling the cup, Christ tells his table companions, This cup is the new covenant in my blood. Do this, as often as you drink it, in remembrance of me.

Given. Poured out. For us.

This day, this Holy Thursday, beckons us to return to the table, to gather around the bread that has been offered to us, the cup that has been poured out for us. Yet this day will also send us out: away from the table and into the world, in search of those who hunger and thirst for what Christ gives: to us, through us. This is the real grail quest: to discern what to do with what we have been given, and then to do this. What path will the bread and the cup—and the One who offers them—impel you to take?

Blessing the Bread, the Cup
For Holy Thursday

Let us bless the bread
that gives itself to us
with its terrible weight,
its infinite grace.

Let us bless the cup
poured out for us
with a love that drenches,
that makes us anew.

Let us gather
around these gifts
simply given
and deeply blessed.

And then let us go
bearing the bread,
carrying the cup,
laying the table
within a hungering world.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Blessing You Cannot Turn Back” appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons.

P.S. For previous reflections on Holy Thursday, click the images or titles below.

Holy Thursday: Take a Blessing

Holy Thursday: Feet and Food

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

Day 30: Blessed Is the One

March 26, 2012

Image: Palm Sunday II © Jan Richardson (click image to enlarge)

Many people spread their cloaks on the road, and others spread leafy branches that they had cut in the fields. Then those who went ahead and those who followed were shouting, “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”
—Mark 11.8-9

From a lectionary reading for Palm Sunday: Mark 11.1-11

Reflection for Tuesday, March 27 (Day 30 of Lent)

Lately I have found myself thinking about procession and pilgrimage: how we move with mindfulness across a landscape that transforms us along the way; what propels us to set off down paths made sacred by those who have traveled before us; which roads draw us closer to God, and which ones draw us farther away from being aware of God’s presence.

There are times for venturing down a holy path that has physical substance, giving ourselves to traveling a real road that will alter us in ways we cannot predict. And then there are times for committing ourselves to a way that will not take us far in terms of physical distance but will draw us down interior pathways we have not explored before. The desert mothers and fathers of the early church well knew this latter journey. They often counseled staying put, wanting to make sure that physical travel wasn’t being treated as a substitute for interior work rather than an aid to it. Reflecting on this in her book The Forgotten Desert Mothers, Laura Swan writes, “The desert journey is one inch long and many miles deep.”

The road that Jesus traveled to Jerusalem in order to make his entrance that we celebrate on Palm Sunday was not terribly long in terms of physical distance. Yet it was miles deep, marked by years of preparation and prayer, discernment and courage as Jesus traveled farther into the fullness of who he was meant to become.

And what road do we travel to meet the Christ who comes toward us on that ancient way of procession and pilgrimage? What journey do we need to take, by inches and miles, in order to welcome him?

“My life’s work,” my Franciscan friend Father Carl once said, “is to go on a pilgrimage to who I am.” This week and beyond, may we make that pilgrimage.

Blessed Is the One
For Palm Sunday

Blessed is the One
who comes to us
by the way of love
poured out with abandon.

Blessed is the One
who walks toward us
by the way of grace
that holds us fast.

Blessed is the One
who calls us to follow
in the way of blessing,
in the path of joy.

—Jan Richardson

2016 update: “Blessed Is the One” appears in my new book Circle of Grace: A Book of Blessings for the Seasons. You can find the book here.

For previous reflections for Palm Sunday, please click the images or titles below.


Palm Sunday: The Way It Makes
(includes “Blessing of Palms”)


Palm Sunday: The Temple by Night
(for Mark 11.1-11)


Palm Sunday: Where the Way Leads

This reflection is part of the daily series “Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.” If you’re new to the series, welcome! You can visit the first post, Teach Me Your Paths: Entering Lent, to learn more about the series and see where we’ve traveled this season.

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

Day 12: Remember the Sabbath Day

March 1, 2012

Image: On the Seventh Day © Jan Richardson (click image to enlarge)

Remember the sabbath day, and keep it holy….For in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but rested the seventh day; therefore the Lord blessed the sabbath day and consecrated it.
—Exodus 20.8, 11

From a lectionary reading for Lent 3: Exodus 20.1-17

Reflection for Tuesday, March 6 (Day 12 of Lent)

Today’s reflection is from In the Sanctuary of Women, from the chapter “A Way in the Wilderness: The Book of the Desert Mothers.”

But there is this too. Respite. Rest. Letting the desert be the desert, without feeling compelled to bulldoze our way through it. I think of a long stretch when I found myself in a soul struggle that had caught me entirely by surprise. Consumed by the wrestling and working and searching, I felt exhausted. After a time, my spiritual director, Maru, gave me this phrase: holy absence.

There are times, she said, sometimes seasons, for removing ourselves from the struggle. Time for sabbath. Time for rest.

Blessing

Even in the desert,
even in the wilderness,
sabbath comes.
May you keep it.
Light the candles,
say the prayers:

Welcome, sabbath.
Welcome, rest.
Enter in
and be our guest.

—Jan Richardson

This reflection is part of the series Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.

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

Transfiguration Sunday: To the Mountain Again

February 12, 2012

Transfiguration II © Jan L. Richardson

Reading from the Gospels, Transfiguration Sunday: Mark 9.2-9

With a trip this week and getting ready to launch a new Lenten series, a picture will need to be worth a thousand words today. I do have a couple of previous reflections on Transfiguration Sunday and hope you’ll visit them. Click on the images or titles below:

Transfiguration: Back to the Drawing Board

Transfiguration Sunday: Show and (Don’t) Tell

I’ll be launching my new Lenten series tomorrow, with daily posts throughout the season, so come back soon! I wish you many blessings in this Transfiguration week.