In the Gospel of Mark, chapter 10, when two of the disciples, James and Johns asked for positions of power and prestige, Jesus replied

“You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them… But it is not so among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life…”

Pastor and author F.B. Meyer once wrote, “I used to think that God’s gifts were on shelves one above the other; and that the taller we grew in Christian character, the easier we could reach them. I now find that God’s gifts are on shelves one beneath the other. It is not a question of growing taller but of stooping lower; that we have to go down before we can go up!”

In your own life, I pray that you would find that when you stoop down to serve others, God’s greatest blessings are there awaiting.

Let us pray: Jesus Redeemer, on this Good Friday, we remember that you gave even your very life to show us the depths of your love for us. Grant us the courage and the will to walk in your ways and to give deeply of ourselves. As we do so, may we experience your healing, grace-filled love. Amen.

A story is told that Neil Marten, a member of the British Parliament, was once giving a group of his constituents a guided tour of the Houses of Parliament. During the course of the visit, the group happened to run across Lord Hailsham, then serving as chancellor, wearing all the regalia of his office. At a distance, Hailsham recognized Marten among the group and cried, “Neil!” Not daring to question or disobey the “command,” the entire group of visitors promptly fell to their knees!

Can you imagine? I’ve never been in a situation when I’ve had to kneel before another person. However, there is something about that level of humility and respect that resonates – especially when I think about kneeling in the presence of God.

In the Bible, people pray to God while standing, sitting, kneeling, or even laying face down on the ground. I’ve been known to pray laying on the floor, flat on my back. Our posture says a lot about what is in our hearts. It also has the ability to put us in a certain frame of mind.

Today, while praying, I invite you to try a different posture – something other than what you are accustomed to. No matter how it looks, the most important part is to bow your heart in humility and awe before the Creator of Lord of all that is.

Let us pray: You are the Alpha and Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End. You are worthy to receive glory, honor, and power. And so we come before you – on the very knees of our hearts – praising you with our entire being. Today, we thank you for the gift of life and the wonder of living. We thank you for a path to walk, for companions along life’s journey, and for your guiding redeeming love. Fill us again with your grace and joy – that these gifts would be ours to share. Amen.

In preparing for my Sabbatical this summer, I’ve been thinking a lot about the Christian concept of pilgrimage.

I read this book several years ago called, The Way Is Made by Walking. This was written by a guy who walked the entire El Camino de Santiago – an ancient, but also very current pilgrimage in northern Spain. It ends in the cathedral of Saint James.

Another author, John Philip Newell, writes about an altogether different type of pilgrimage, the ancient Celtic practice of peregrination – which is simply a pilgrimage taken without knowing for sure the final destination. You just set out!

He writes, “(Peregrination) often involved setting sail from one’s homeland as a pilgrim, from what was known and comfortable to what was unknown and challenging. (It) was sometimes described as ‘seeking the place of one’s resurrection,’ leaving the familiar in order to experience new birth, dying to the boundaries and security of home to be alive to what one had never imagined before.”

Of course, a pilgrimage does not always involve a physical journey, does it? It has long been a metaphor for the journey of faith. Have you ever had the sense that God might be calling you to undergo a pilgrimage of some sort?

Perhaps you are being called to go to a deeper place within your faith. Or perhaps, you’re being called to heal or to transform what has hardened or been wounded within you. Or it could be a calling to engage the world creatively in some new way… to grow or to serve or to give to meet the needs that God has placed on your heart.

And maybe that is sparked by hearing somebody else’s story. Maybe it is being moved by something we’ve heard or seen. Or you may have a calling arise out of a deep sense of loss and felt a need to respond – a moment when you think: Somebody should do something about this… Or, I have to do something to make sense of this or to redeem this.

My prayer for each of you, whatever stage of life you are in, is that you would ever be open to God’s calling. May you ever be open to whatever pilgrimage of body, mind, or soul God may lead you on next.

Let us pray: We thank you O God, for your calling on our lives. May our dreams and longings ever be in tune with yours. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.

So it is told that many years ago, Pierre Trudeau, the Canadian prime minister, gave a speech in which he shared with the nation that due to budget shortfalls, the government would have to reduce financial assistance programs. “If there is any relief,” he said, “it will be narrowly directed to those in dire straits.” On hearing Trudeau’s speech, the residents of New Dundee, Ontario, assembled and promptly changed the name of their town to Dire Straits. The town’s mayor explained, “If we are not in Dire Straits, I don’t know who is!”

While I cannot verify the story, many of us experience times in our lives when we feel just like that – like we are in dire straits! No doubt that life is challenging. We experience much loss, change, and heartache.

Though it is tough to remember in the midst of hardship, difficult times come, but they also go. My prayer for you today is that whenever you find yourself in crisis mode, you would remember that there will be daylight on the other side. You don’t need to set up camp in the darkness. You don’t need to change your name to “Dire Straights.” Instead, hold onto hope. There is ever the potential to come out on the other side stronger, more loving, more faithful, more compassionate. While you won’t emerge unchanged, you will get through it. God is with you.

Let us pray: Loving God, we claim the promise of the prophet Isaiah – that you will make a way in the wilderness. I pray especially today for those who are in the midst of difficult times – for those who feel as though they are hanging on by the last thread of hope. Give them eyes to see beyond the darkness. Grant them an overwhelming sense of your presence and peace, and carry them through. Amen.

Dr. Elizabeth Kubler-Ross tells a story about a woman she encountered while writing her groundbreaking book, On Death and Dying. Part of Dr. Kubler-Ross’ research involved interviewing dying patients in the hospital, trying to find out how they felt and what they thought as they faced death. As she went from room to room in the hospital, she began to notice a remarkable pattern. Sometimes she would go into a dying person’s room and the person would be calm, at peace, and tranquil. Almost invariably, she learned that that patient’s room had been cleaned by a certain hospital orderly.

One day, Dr. Kubler-Ross happened to run into this orderly in the hospital corridor. The doctor asked her, “What are you doing with my patients?” The orderly thought she was being reprimanded and responded, “I’m not doing anything with your patients.” “No, no. It’s a good thing,” corrected Kubler-Ross. “After you go into their rooms, they seem at peace. What are you doing with my patients?”

“I just talk to them,” the orderly said. “You know, I’ve had two babies of my own die on my lap. But God never abandoned me. I tell them that. I tell them that they aren’t alone, that God is with them, and that they don’t have to be afraid.”

It never ceases to amaze me how powerful real conversations can be. When we are open enough to listen (really listen) to the pain of others, and when we are able to share our own sense of brokenness, deep connections are made. We feel less alone. And often we are infused with a sense of hope.

Let us pray: Gracious God, we remember today what a privilege it is to be invited into both the brokenness and grace of other’s lives. We also remember that out of the ashes of despair can rise the seeds of hope, new life, and new possibilities. Meet each of us now in this moment and fill us with your peace. We ask in Jesus’ name. Amen.