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 29: God Has Given Us Light

March 25, 2012

Image: Has Given Us Light © Jan Richardson

The Lord is God, and has given us light.
—Psalm 118.27a

From a lectionary reading for Palm Sunday: Psalm 118.1-2, 19-29

Reflection for Monday, March 26 (Day 29 of Lent)

As if to confirm God’s penchant for revelation that we reflected on yesterday, Psalm 118 sings of light that comes as a blessing and gift from God. Light, the psalmist tells us, is one of the ways that God provides and cares for God’s people.

The last of the psalms that comprise what’s known as the Hallel (Hebrew for “praise”), Psalm 118 is part of the song of praise offered during festival times. Encompassing Psalms 113-118, the song is sometimes called the Egyptian Hallel and is a joyous telling of what God has done in the life of the people of Israel: how God has provided for them, what God has given to them, what God has brought to pass through them. During the festival of Passover, the first part of the Hallel (Psalms 113 and 114) is sung before the Passover meal, and the second part is sung following the meal (Psalms 115-118). It’s likely that it was the song that Jesus and the disciples sang as they left the Last Supper. What hope it must have given them, as they went into the night, to sing of the God who does not let darkness have the final word.

In John O’Donohue’s book Anam Cara, he writes, “If you had never been to the world and never known what a day was, you couldn’t possibly imagine how the darkness breaks, how the mystery and color of a new day arrive. Light is incredibly generous.” The psalmist knows the gift of light and does not take it for granted. How about you? At this place in your Lenten journey, how do the words of this song find a home in you? What light has God given to you as blessing and gift?

Blessing of Light

Let us bless the light
and the One who gives
the light to us.

Let us open ourselves
to the illumination
it offers.

Let us blaze
with its
generous fire.

—Jan Richardson

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

5th Sunday in Lent: Unless a Grain of Wheat Falls

March 24, 2012

Image: Into the Earth © Jan Richardson

Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains just a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.
—John 12.24

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: John 12.20-33

Reflection for the Fifth Sunday in Lent (March 25)

The lectionary texts this week have set me to thinking about how God works in hidden spaces: in the inner being, in the secret heart, in the earth. There is work that God needs to do in us in secret; out of sight, away from the glare of day, removed from public view. Yet God has a penchant for revelation, for bringing into the open what is within us. God’s inward work is for the purpose of opening us outward. God draws us deep inside, then draws us back into the world to bear the fruit that comes when our inner lives are congruent with our outer ones.

Blessing the Seed

I should tell you
at the outset:
this blessing will require you
to do some work.

First you must simply
let this blessing fall
from your hand,
as if it were a small thing
you could easily let slip
through your fingers,
as if it were not
most precious to you,
as if your life did not
depend on it.

Next you must trust
that this blessing knows
where it is going,
that it understands
the ways of the dark,
that it is wise
to seasons
and to times.

Then—
and I know this blessing
has already asked much
of you—
it is to be hoped that
you will rest
and learn
that something is at work
when all seems still,
seems dormant,
seems dead.

I promise you
this blessing has not
abandoned you.
I promise you
this blessing
is on its way back
to you.
I promise you—
when you are least
expecting it,
when you have given up
your last hope—
this blessing will rise
green
and whole
and new.

—Jan Richardson

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

P.S. For a previous reflection on this passage—which features my inner Barbie, the observation that “Lent is not for sissies,” and encouragement to cheer you on at this point in the Lenten path—click the image or title below:


Lent 5: Into the Seed

This reflection is part of the daily series “Teach Me Your Paths: A Pilgrimage into Lent.” If you’re new to the series, you can visit the first post, Teach Me Your Paths: Entering Lent, to pick it up from the beginning.

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

Day 28: With Loud Cries and Tears

March 23, 2012

With Loud Cries and Tears © Jan L. Richardson

In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death.
—Hebrews 5.7

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: Hebrews 5.5-10

Reflection for Saturday, March 24 (Day 28 of Lent)

And he was heard, Paul goes on to write. Crying out from his depths as he sought—as ever—to live fully and completely into who he had been created to be, Jesus was heard.

In these days, what prayers will we offer from the depths of who we are; what supplications will we cry out on behalf of the world and of our own selves? What might we need to wail about as we wrestle with what comes in seeking to live into our full selves with some measure of the integrity that Christ possessed? What do we need for God to hear?

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

Day 27: Restore the Joy of Salvation

March 23, 2012

Restore the Joy of Salvation © Jan L. Richardson

Restore to me the joy of your salvation, and sustain in me a willing spirit.
—Psalm 51.12

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: Psalm 51.1-12

Reflection for Friday, March 23 (Day 27 of Lent)

And this is, after all, what the psalmist desires: not to wallow in his sins or berate himself eternally for his brokenness, but to rest in the God who does not abandon him. To rejoice in the God who knows all the broken pieces and who holds them in mercy and love. To enter into the restoration that God is always working to bring about.

How do you lean into this joy? How do you open yourself to let it in, even when you don’t feel whole? How do you welcome this joy that is present even in the midst of brokenness, this joy that is part of how God works within us to put the pieces together? Is there some place in your spirit that needs to be more willing, that needs God’s sustenance in order to live into the salvation—the wholeness, the deliverance, the freedom—that God intends for you?

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

Day 26: My Secret Heart

March 22, 2012

Secret Heart © Jan L. Richardson

You desire truth in the inward being;
therefore teach me wisdom in my secret heart.

—Psalm 51.6

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: Psalm 51.1-12

Reflection for Thursday, March 22 (Day 26 of Lent)

Not just in my heart
but in the secret space
it holds.

In the heart of my heart.
In the place where I am myself.
In the space that I protect the most
and share the least.

In the hidden chamber
that I sometimes close off
even from myself.

In the realm
where you wait
and watch,
where you see each thing
that lies in shadow,
where you know the names
of all that makes its home
in me.

Here
in my secret heart;
here
teach me to move
with your wisdom,
to open the doors
that will draw me deeper still,
to live in the truth
that you desire;
here
let me open
the windows wide
so that those who pass by
will see you
looking out.

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

Day 25: And Cleanse Me

March 21, 2012

Image: And Cleanse Me © Jan Richardson (click image to enlarge)

Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin.
—Psalm 51.2

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: Psalm 51.1-12

Reflection for Wednesday, March 21 (Day 25 of Lent)

Creatures of dust and mud that we are—as we were reminded on Ash Wednesday, at the outset of this Lenten pilgrimage—it’s not that God needs for us to be all tidy in order to come into the presence of God. We are already there.

Yet we carry so much that can serve to insulate us from recognizing and being present to the God who is always present to us, and who still perceives our beloved shape beneath the layers of grime that cling to our souls. The distractions we build our lives around; the harm we cause others or ourselves; our inability to see ourselves as God sees us: how might we allow God to wash all this away, not so that God can see us more clearly, but so that we can see the God who makes a home within us?

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

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

Day 24: And Remember Their Sin No More

March 20, 2012

And Remember Their Sin No More © Jan L. Richardson

No longer shall they teach one another, or say to each other, “Know the Lord,” for they shall all know me, from the least of them to the greatest, says the Lord; for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more.
—Jeremiah 31.34

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: Jeremiah 31.31-34

Reflection for Tuesday, March 20 (Day 24 of Lent)

This God who writes a new word on our hearts. This God who knows us and whose hope is built on a time when we will know God in turn. This God who holds onto us with such persistence and love and calls us to live into this love, yet does not keep tally of the times we have turned away. This God who knows the tally we keep in our own hearts of the occasions when we failed to live into the love that fashioned us, the times that are seared into our own memories with embarrassment or despair.

When we remember our shortcomings and sins so keenly, how do we trust in the God who graces us with forgetfulness? How would it be to take this up as a Lenten practice: to repair what we have damaged in our sin—as far as it lies within our power—and then to rest in the God who does not eternally hold against us the harm we have caused? We may not be able to forget certain memories entirely, but how might it be to cease to be bound by them—to allow God to release us from the memories that hold us hostage? What would you like to trust that God forgets?

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 pick it up from the beginning. If you would like to receive these blog posts via email, simply enter your address in the subscription signup box near the top of the sidebar.

[To use the image “And Remember Their Sin No More,” please visit this page at janrichardsonimages.com. Your use of janrichardsonimages.com helps make the ministry of The Painted Prayerbook possible. Thank you!]

Day 23: A New Covenant

March 19, 2012

A New Covenant © Jan L. Richardson

The days are surely coming, says the Lord, when I will make a new covenant with the house of Israel and the house of Judah….I will put my law within them, and I will write it on their hearts; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people.
—Jeremiah 31.31, 33b

From a lectionary reading for Lent 5: Jeremiah 31.31-34

Reflection for Monday, March 19 (Day 23 of Lent)

For tonight, simply this question, carried with me as Gary and I flew home from Denver:

Here, just past the halfway point of Lent; here, at this point in your life: What word needs to be written new upon your heart?

[To use the image “A 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!]

Fourth Sunday in Lent: Clearly Seen

March 18, 2012

Clearly Seen © Jan L. Richardson

Those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.
—John 3.21

From a lectionary reading for Lent 4: John 3.14-21

Reflection for the Fourth Sunday in Lent (March 18)

A brief and belated post here at the end of Lent 4. Gary and I have spent most of this week in Colorado, where we’ve just wrapped up a series of events with the marvelous folks here. We are feeling deeply grateful and thoroughly spent. So for tonight, just an image to wrap up this week’s reflections, along with a simple blessing:

That we will lean into
the light of Christ.

That what we do,
we will do in God.

That we will be
clearly seen.

P.S. For a previous reflection on this passage, click the image or title below:

The Serpent in the Text

This reflection is part of the 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 pick it up from the beginning. If you would like to receive these blog posts via email, simply enter your address in the subscription signup box near the top of the sidebar.

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