Category: Year C

Go to a marae and before you enter the wharenui you will remove your shoes.
Shoes sit in front of the door to the wharenui (meeting house).

When visitors enter a wharenui they should remove their shoes and leave them at the door (though there are some wharenui in which shoes may be worn inside).

One explanation for this is that the dust from the marae ātea (courtyard), which is the domain of Tūmatauenga, the god of war, should not be brought into the wharenui, the domain of Rongo, the god of peace.

Another explanation is that the wharenui, also known as the whare tipuna (ancestral house), represents a tribal ancestor.

The tekoteko (carved figure on the gable of the house) is the head, the maihi (barge boards) are the arms, the tāhuhu (ridgepole) is the backbone and the heke (rafters) are the ribs.

Respect is shown for the tipuna (ancestor) by removing shoes.

We are who we are today due to those who have gone before us.
Family is where our stories begin.

When inside the whare tipuna we have entered “holy ground”.

Today’s first reading from the Book of Exodus is the story of the encounter between Moses and his God (Ex. 3: 1-8ff) .

“When the Lord saw him coming over to look at it more closely, God called out to him from the bush, “Moses! Moses!”

He answered, “Here I am.”

God said, “Come no nearer!

Remove the sandals from your feet,
for the place where you stand is holy ground.

I am the God of your fathers, “he continued,
“the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob.” (Ex. 3:4 6)

Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob are the tipuna of Moses; it is where his story began.

Their story is his story.

The story is “holy ground”.

L’Arche is an international movement concerned with the care of people with intellectual disabilities.

Many of these people live together in community.

One such community member was a man named Pierre.

Pierre had a mental disability.

One day, one of the workers in the community asked Pierre, ‘Do you pray?’

Pierre answered, ‘Yes’.

And the questioner asked, ‘And what do you do when you pray?’

Pierre answered, ‘I listen’.

‘And what does God say to you?’

‘God says, “Pierre, you are my beloved son”’

Maybe this too is what we ought do – listen.

The author, Max Picard, in his book titled “The World of Silence” writes, “When language ceases, silence begins. But it does not begin because language ceases. The absence of language simply makes the presence of Silence more apparent.”

And in the quiet listening space hear a Voice say, ‘You are my beloved.’

 

Lent is here again.

Retreat for a moment to remember your childhood.

• • Sweets gather in an Agee jar in the cupboard.
  • Fasting and abstinence are to the fore.
  • Self-restraint in all things is the order of the day.
  • No meat on Fridays.
  • Strong determination to do something more worthwhile.

My strongest memory is that I have always celebrated my birthday during Lent!

Why did my parents choose early March as my birth date?

My image for the season of Lent is living with the blinds pulled down!

The word subdued comes to mind.

Sackcloth would be the Old Testament equivalent.

There are, however, I suggest some anomalies in our season of Lent.

The first is in the “liturgical sackcloth” we use. Our Lenten liturgical colour is purple, the same colour used most frequently during our ritual for the dead.

In antiquity, purple was one of the most challenging colours to produce, making it highly prized and often reserved for the elite.

The most famous purple dye, Tyrian purple, was derived from the mucous secretion of sea snails, particularly the Murex brandaris.

This painstaking process required thousands of snails to produce a tiny amount of dye, contributing to its high value and association with nobility and power.

The Roman emperors famously donned purple togas, symbolizing their supreme status.

The rare and expensive Tyrian dye of antiquity is now widely available through the synthetic pigments of the 19th century.

To this day purple is associated with royalty, wealth and power. If in doubt, Google search images of King Charles III and Queen Camilla waving to the gathered crowd immediately following his coronation!

Following his coronation at Westminster Abbey, Charles III retired to a side room and re-dressed in a specially made purple satin coronation tunic.

The second anomaly is the very word itself – Lent.

The word originates from the Old English word “lencten” which means Spring.

Spring is the season of new budding, of new growth.

It is the season of new colour, of freshness, of awakening.

It is the season of new lambs and calves, daffodils and tulips.

The world is anything but subdued. The world is noisy with new life.

The third anomaly, in my opinion, is our use of ashes.

If you participated in the Ash Wednesday liturgy and the ritual of the ashes, you may notice that an element of the usual Mass ritual was omitted, namely, the Penitential Rite.

The Penitential Rite has been replaced by the blessing and giving of ashes.

The ashes have been given a “penitential” feel. However, ashes are anything but penitential; wood ash provides potassium and lime, essential for healthy growth.

“When you fast do not put on a gloomy look as the hypocrites do: they pull long faces to let people know they are fasting.” (Mtt.6:16)

Imagine that today’s Gospel text, that accompanies the blessing and procession of palms (Lk. 19: 28 – 40) the triumphal entry of Jesus into the city of Jerusalem was adapted as a stage show, or perhaps even a full-length movie; the spotlight would most certainly be directed onto the person of Jesus. He is the central figure, he has the starring role; however, in directing the spotlight onto Jesus, another figure is illumined – the donkey! In fact, the donkey and Jesus share the limelight, and I would like to focus on the donkey. Certainly, Jesus rides the donkey into Jerusalem today, however it may not have been the first time he was on a donkey. Christmas images in art have a pregnant Mary riding on a donkey as she and her husband Joseph make their way to Bethlehem. Similarly, these images have Mary (holding the newborn child) riding on a donkey as she and Joseph make a hurried escape to Egypt. And we might well imagine that there was a ride on a donkey when the family made their return from exile. Donkeys carrying Jesus appear to be a theme.

In Orthodox Christianity there is a special title given to Mary – that title is Theotokos. The title is what we in the English language would call a portmanteau, that is a new word formed by fusing together parts of existing words, in this instance the Greek word “theo” meaning God and the word “tokos” meaning to bear or to carry. Mary is the “God-bearer”. However maybe the donkey is also – the God-carrier.

Maybe that is our privilege and responsibility as baptized women, men, and children – to become a donkey! To carry Jesus wherever we go! There is, however, one important element which is sometimes overlooked, the bearer at times tries to become the one who is being carried. A genuine donkey will stand and wait with patience until the Master has need – and we have no better example there than the original ‘Theotokos’, who carried when carrying was necessary, who let the Word go when the Word chose, and who in the end was ready to hold when the Word could go no further, known as the Pieta.

The Pulitzer prize winning American poet ( 1935 – 2019 ) wrote a thought-provoking poem with the title, “The Poet Thinks About The Donkey”

On the outskirts of Jerusalem
the donkey waited.
Not especially brave, or filled with understanding,
he stood and waited.

How horses, turned out into the meadow,
     leap with delight!
How doves, released from their cages,
     clatter away, splashed with sunlight.

But the donkey, tied to a tree as usual, waited.
Then he let himself be led away.
Then he let the stranger mount.

Never had he seen such crowds!
And I wonder if he at all imagined what was to happen.
Still, he was what he had always been: small, dark, obedient.

I hope, finally, he felt brave.
I hope, finally, he loved the man who rode so lightly upon him,
as he lifted one dusty hoof and stepped, as he had to, forward.

+ Mary Oliver