Monday in Holy Week

abstract art
These verses in Isaiah just don’t sit right with me. We associate these verses with the Christ, and as such I am faced with my call to act as Christ. Quite frankly I have a hard time with this. I get hurt; I get angry; I want to fight and retaliate. But that’s not how I am called to act.

Share This Post

abstract art

Growing up in the 60’s and 70’s, and now facing the growing climate of bigotry and hatred I see all around me, these verses in Isaiah just don’t sit right with me … and so I am forced to confront them and see what they are saying to me this Lent, and for my work in spreading the Gospel.

Isaiah, relaying God’s words, speaks of the beloved servant who will bring forth justice. “Bring forth Justice!” — that’s pretty impressive, and calls to mind activism, resistance, and perhaps even armed conflict. Yet the prophet goes on to tell us the servant will accomplish this quietly, humbly, gently, faithfully, and with endurance. Very much the opposite of what I “feel” are the right actions.

We associate these verses with the Christ, and as such I am faced with my call to act as Christ. Quite frankly I have a hard time with this. I get hurt; I get angry; I want to fight and retaliate. But that’s not how I am called to act. I am called to not cry out, not bruise the tender, not quench the barely flickering flame, and to pursue this “gentle action” with strength and endurance.

This was Jesus’ journey to the cross. He was the gentle, beloved servant that through his quiet strength brings forth justice, and I am called this holy season to follow in his footsteps. “Mercifully grant that I, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace.”

More To Explore

Artwork: Pentecost - Many Flames
Newsletter

Parish News: May 24

In this week’s newsletter, the rector notes Pentecost’s reversal of Babel—not by restoring a single language, but by enabling understanding across difference as each speaks and hears in their own tongue. She treasures hearing parishioners read “God’s deeds of power” in many languages during worship, and invites us to consider what it means to speak of God in our own heart language—whether shaped by mother tongue, place, trust, or profound shared experience. In a time of contempt for difference, Pentecost reveals the blessing of many tongues and the Holy Spirit’s gift of mutual understanding across culture, faith, and ethnic background.

Read More →