Friday from Noon till Three (The Magdalene’s Lament)
© Jan L. Richardson
Invocation
God of the shadows,
you accompany us
even in our most painful times.
May I know the abiding passion
you have for me;
may I taste it,
drink of it,
feel it in the touch
of those who journey
with me.
Context
Passion. From the Latin passio, meaning “suffering.” The term denotes the suffering of Christ from the night of the Last Supper through his crucifixion. But the women who have journeyed with Jesus know the meaning of passion too. They have seen Christ’s pain—have held it, anointed it, felt it in themselves. And they know too the meaning of passion as devotion, as desire, as commitment, as love. Enflamed by his vision, healed by his touch, empowered by his friendship, the women who companion Jesus share his passion for wholeness, for salvation, for life. This shared passion prepares them for the Passion event. They do not leave Jesus alone during this time, not even at the cross.
In this week’s readings, we encounter the women who accompany Jesus in his Passion. With these women—those who are strangers to Jesus as well as those who are his friends and followers—we move through the shadows of his final hours. With them we break bread, ask questions, and dream; with them we grieve, bear witness, and wait. With them we experience the pain of having our visions doubted and the joy of resurrection. With them we pray for an end to suffering and for the healing of Christ’s body.
Monday
Text
Luke 22:14-20 and John 13:1-20.
I wonder if they came to this table—those who fed him, those who followed him, those who provided for him, those who birthed him in flesh and spirit, those who touched him. Were any of them there?
In Remembrance
When he washed
the feet of his friends,
did he remember
the one who anointed his flesh
essentially?
When he broke the bread,
did he remember the one
who opened her body
to bring him forth?
When he poured the wine,
did he remember the one
who poured out her blood
to give him life?
When he prayed for his friends
did he remember the women
who provided for him
out of their own resources?
When they sang the song,
did he remember the voice
of the one who rejoiced
with his family in the temple?
When they went out
did he remember the women
who had left everything behind
to journey with him?
Ah, I think the women feasted
here or somewhere,
bodies aching
as they broke the bread,
blood rising
as they shared the cup,
eating slowly
drinking deeply
for the days to come
for remembering.
From Sacred Journeys © Jan L. Richardson
For an introduction to the Lenten journey we’re making here at Sanctuary of Women, visit A Season of Spiraling. Today’s artwork originally appeared in In Wisdom’s Path: Discovering the Sacred in Every Season © Jan L. Richardson.
