This first post in the Lenten devotional series, “Crossings,” is open and free to the entire Cottage community and may be shared.
The next post of the series will be a written sermon/reflection on WEDNESDAY. That post — and all other posts in the Lenten series — will be for paid subscribers only.
Sunday Musings during Lent will remain full access to the entire community (as usual).
The Lenten series, “Crossings,” begins today, Monday, February 19.
Crossings: Reimagining and Practicing the Cross, is this year’s Lent experience at the Cottage. We will explore the prismatic meaning of the central symbol of Christian faith.
The culmination of Lent is Good Friday with Jesus’ death on a cross. Despite its importance, many struggle with the cross, especially with its complicity in religious violence and a theology that exalts in suffering and pain. Honestly, I’ve struggled with it over the years, often wondering if I could ever voice my reservations, worried that my concerns might seem heretical! Crossings invites us to ask questions, see differently, and find new dimensions of meaning in the Cross.
This Lenten reflection series is offered for the paid community. This is not intended as something exclusive but to create a more intimate environment of conversation and sharing for those seeking a different sort of Lent experience.
Those who are part of the series will receive three posts a week during Lent — each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.
On Monday, you’ll receive an email to introduce the weekly theme with scripture verses, photographs, and poetry. On Wednesday, the post will be a meditation/sermon on reimagining the Cross. On Friday, there will be video reflections from special guests.
You can also expect a couple of surprises along the way.
And, at the end of the series, you’ll be able to download a pdf booklet of the previously unpublished sermons for you to keep.
THE SERIES BEGINS BELOW
CROSSINGS: WEEK ONE
The Cross as Wood
Whether the much-loved Protestant revival hymn, “The Old Rugged Cross,” or the newer, poetic Catholic piece, “Behold the Wood,” the Cross is associated in Christian devotion with the material from which it was fashioned — wood.
The word for wood (or tree) in New Testament Greek is xulon. That’s our Lenten image for the week: xulon. We begin today with minimal commentary, concentrating instead on four texts that use xulon to describe the Cross, three images, and two poems.
Spend a few minutes reading and looking at the whole. Then, let a single verse, image, and poem speak to you. Look for something that you never noticed before. Something that may surprise you. Something that takes you to a different place.
What opens in your heart? What do you see?
READINGS
Luke 23: 28, 31-33
But Jesus turned to them and said, “Daughters of Jerusalem, do not weep for me, but weep for yourselves and for your children….For if they do this when the wood is green, what will happen when it is dry?”
Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals.
Galatians 3:13-14
Christ redeemed us from the curse of the law by becoming a curse for us — for it is written, ‘Cursed is everyone who hangs on a tree’ — in order that in Christ Jesus the blessing of Abraham might come to the Gentiles, so that we might receive the promise of the Spirit through faith.
Acts 10:39-43
We are witnesses to all that he did both in Judea and in Jerusalem. They put him to death by hanging him on a tree; but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead. He commanded us to preach to the people and to testify that he is the one ordained by God as judge of the living and the dead. All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.
1 Peter 2:23-25
When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. For you were straying like sheep, but have now returned to the Shepherd and Overseer of your souls.
IMAGES
POETRY
Terrible fruit was on the tree
In the acre of Gethsemane;
For us by Calvary's distress
The wine was racked from the press;
Now in our altar-vessels stored
Is the sweet Vintage of our Lord.
— Gerald Manley Hopkins, from “Barnfloor and Winepress”
We can never be with loss too long.
Behind the warped door that sticks,
the wood thrush calls to the monks,
pausing upon the stone crucifix,
singing: “I am marvelous alone!”
Thrash, thrash goes the hayfield:
rows of marrow and bone undone.
The horizon’s flashing fastens tight,
sealing the blue hills with vermilion.
Moss dyes a squirrel’s skull green.
The cemetery expands its borders—
little milky crosses grow like teeth.
How kind time is, altering space
so nothing stays wrong; and light,
more new light, always arrives.
— Spencer Reece, “At Thomas Merton’s Grave”
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I, too, struggle with the glorification of the cross.
Words that have stuck with me from the quoted scriptures - green. (makes me think of Hildegard of Bingen), dry, death, life, righteousness, healed
Thought from the images: a cross can break, too
From the second poem: how kind time is ... nothing stays wrong ... light, more new light, always arrived
Did those mourning and waiting at the foot of the cross know that new light always arrives? Do we remember that?
Thank you for these meditation prompts
Seems mostly about trees, not necessarily dead, but deeply rooted, holding ground together, offering limbs for homes, shade underneath, the very symbol of life. And even in death it can give so much: food for the earth, sturdy beams and planks for homes, bulwarks against shifting land, even tools, weapons with which to hunt for food, fire for cooking and warmth, and art waiting to be released. Never was it meant for nailing and hanging a naked body. Travesty, that. Except in this instance rescued when it becomes the cradle of Grace, the throne of Victory, the sign of Hope and Divine Love. A Curse transformed into a Blessing for all the nations. The wood is a gift, and the effort to exploit it for the worst of human depravity has been rendered futile by him who uttered in agony a cry of victory beginning with the words, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?!"