Buttercups in Bloom

The meal has been served. The bread has been broken. The cup has been lifted. Shadows are unfolding. The longings have been made known. The pleading with others to stay awake; to pay attention has unfolded. The betrayal has happened. Shadows are enveloping. The betrayer arrived. The darkness of the cell envelopes. The charges are made. Shadows are lingering. The crowd gathered. The judgment fell. The sentence is set. Shadows are darkening. Last night communities of faith gathered to break bread with one another anointed one another with oil, washed one another's hands and feet, and proclaimed messages of remembering who we are as people of God.  In the midst of it all, I was distracted because, for the past two weeks, our state has felt the veil of a deep, dark shadow descending upon us and yesterday it took its grip upon our city.  While we gathered around tables as people of faith and remembered our story in relationship to God's story, another kind of gathering was taking pl

On Sunday, my faith celebrated the beginning of our holiest week.  The palms dawned the sanctuary, special music was played and the congregation lifted our voices to songs of hosanna.  Over the years my own depth of this story has taken root in a portion of the narrative that we have failed to teach and whitewashed to make us feel better.  Our Palm Sunday isn't just some glorious day that leads to  Jesus coming to save us all, it is a day filled with pledging allegiance, standing alongside a parade route to proclaim our support for a particular candidate that will govern the land. The day is a day where the faith we choose determines the person we choose.  Our shouts and our symbols proclaim the person we believe to be the best candidate for the tasks at hand.  Our shouts, our cries are our call for liberation, freedom, justice for all, protection, and salvation through the embodiment of one individual.  The day marks the beginning. The city begins to stir in ways that those along