Reflections for

Good Friday, Apr 14, 2017

Isaiah 52:13-53:12; Psalm 22; Hebrews 10:16-25 or Hebrews 4:14-16; 5:7-9; John 18:1-19:42

On Art

Tomorrow, by Rick LaMarre

Artist and illustrator Rick LaMarre imagines what the disciple Peter would do the day or two after denying Jesus. Would he return to fishing, the world he knows? Would he go fishing but find himself unable to focus on the work?  “What do you do between the time when you blow up your whole world and the time when God rescues you?” wonders LaMarre. “How is it when faith is the only thing you have, yet you feel you don’t even deserve that?”


Glacier Park in August: Grinnell Lake

First, use four similes to describe the lake:
Grinnell Lake is like . . . a threshold
                                     . . . a turquoise
                                     . . . wings arching open
                                     . . . a nest.

At the end of the boardwalk over red-rock streams,
beyond the suspension bridge, the waterfall, the long hike,
my feet on fire empty into the lake:
Icy aqua iridescence, perfection of mountains, these trees.

Now use four metaphors: the lake is . . . reality
                                                               . . . exquisite balance
                                                               . . . a window
                                                               . . . a cup filled with sky.

In the lobby of the grand hotel miles below
hang beautifully framed old photos. Grinnell Glacier,
a wisp above us now, was enormous a century ago,
            its lake many times smaller.

How can we protect the earth but by drawing close, by falling in love?
             The lake is the glacier melting too fast.
             The lake is the waters from Jesus’ pierced side.
             The lake is the face of the love that saves us.
How can we love the earth but by falling . . . in?


Revised Common Lectionary © 1992 the Consultation on Common Texts. Used by permission.