As we continue through uncharted, uncertain days, there are blessings along the way, waiting to be recognized and celebrated. I received one such blessing from a book read to children in a recent televised worship service, to help them remember important truths during this uncertain time. The book was Don’t Forget to Remember, by Ellie Holcomb.
Holcomb says this about writing the book: “I’m the oldest of five kids and one of my little brothers was extremely forgetful. He left something behind almost every day we went to school and would pipe up from the back seat of the car saying, ‘Mom! I forgot to remember my lunch today.’ I always thought it was the cutest thing, and it became one of those phrases our family repeated over the years, “I forgot to remember!” As a mom of three, there are so many things I forget...and it’s not just lunch boxes or backpacks...a lot of days, I forget to remember what’s true. On the days I’m at the end of myself, on the days I’ve lost my patience and my car keys, on the days I didn’t make a dent in the to do list that seems to endlessly grow, I need to remember the truth of God’s mercy and love for me. I wanted to write a book that would help my own forgetful heart and my children’s precious hearts remember what is true.” Her hope is that the beautiful truth of God’s love and companionship gets stuck in heads and hearts of young and old!
How important it is, especially in these uncertain times, to remember God’s faithful love and care; how important that we don’t forget to remember:
Don’t forget to remember you’re never alone, no matter if you are up high or down low, and as sure as the sun rises above, don’t forget to remember that you’re dearly loved.
Don’t forget to remember when the winter and cold are all through, the flowers remind you God makes all things new.
So just like the stars won’t forget how to shine, don’t forget to remember that all of the time, God’s light will guide you wherever you go and you’re loved from the top of your head to your toes.
Let the whole world remind you, of what God has said, from the moment you wake up til you go to bed, and even on days when you forget what is true, Don’t forget to remember God won’t forget you!
Don’t forget to remember, God won’t forget you.
I give thanks for worship experiences these days apart that remind us that God is with us, faithfully at work in all that is happening in the world around us and God loves us with a love that will never let us go,
“Don’t forget to remember, God won’t forget you!”
Elizabeth
Easter 2020 will long be remembered as Easter “at home.” I’m struck with the variety of ways one can celebrate the resurrection – from a large city church, with magnificent choir and orchestra, and too many pastors and assistant pastors to count; to a pastor in the parking lot of a little mountain church, encouraging his congregation to give a “honk” if they love Jesus – with that celebration of horns truly sounding the joy of resurrection; to a mega-church in Florida with praise band and video clips and faithful preaching of God’s Word; to a minister in a small town preaching from his screened-in porch, with birds chirping an Easter chorus; to an e-mail Easter devotional from a retired minister to her small congregation; to a cross standing on the porch of that small church, flowered by a congregation coming and going throughout the day. All of these actions proclaiming “Alleluia! Christ is risen! Christ is risen indeed, Alleluia!”
A very special moment for me was receiving this timely and unique poem late Easter afternoon, and I share it with you:
How the Virus Stole Easter
By Kristi Bothur
With a nod to Dr. Seuss
Twas late in ‘19 when the virus began
Bringing chaos and fear to all people, each land.
People were sick, hospitals full,
Doctors overwhelmed, no one in school.
As winter gave way to the promise of spring,
The virus raged on, touching peasant and king.
People hid in their homes from the enemy unseen.
They YouTubed and Zoomed, social-distanced, and cleaned.
April approached and churches were closed.
“There won’t be an Easter,” the world supposed.
“There won’t be church services, and egg hunts are out.
No reason for new dresses when we can’t go about.”
Holy Week started, as bleak as the rest.
The world was focused on masks and on tests.
“Easter can’t happen this year,” it proclaimed.
“Online and at home, it just won’t be the same.”
Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, the days came and went.
The virus pressed on; it just would not relent.
The world woke Sunday and nothing had changed.
The virus still menaced, the people, estranged.
“Pooh pooh to the saints,” the world was grumbling.
“They’re finding out now that no Easter is coming.
“They’re just waking up! We know just what they’ll do!
Their mouths will hang open a minute or two,
And then all the saints will all cry boo-hoo.
“That noise,” said the world, “will be something to hear.”
So it paused and the world put a hand to its ear.
And it did hear a sound coming through all the skies.
It started down low, then it started to rise.
But the sound wasn’t depressed.
Why, this sound was triumphant!
It couldn’t be so!
But it grew with abundance!
The world stared around, popping its eyes.
Then it shook! What it saw was a shocking surprise!
Every saint in every nation, the tall and the small,
Was celebrating Jesus in spite of it all!
It hadn’t stopped Easter from coming! It came!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!
And the world with its life quite stuck in quarantine
Stood puzzling and puzzling. “Just how can it be?”
“It came without bonnets, it came without bunnies,
It came without egg hunts, cantatas, or money.”
Then the world thought of something it hadn’t before.
“Maybe Easter,” it thought, “doesn’t come from a store.
Maybe Easter, perhaps, means a little bit more.”
And what happened then?
Well....the story’s not done.
What will YOU do?
Will you share with that one
Or two or more people needing hope in this night?
Will you share the source of your life in this fight?
The churches are empty - but so is the tomb,
And Jesus is victor over death, doom, and gloom.
So this year at Easter, let this be our prayer,
As the virus still rages all around, everywhere.
May the world see hope when it looks at God’s people.
May the world see the church is not a building or steeple.
May the world find Faith in Jesus’ death and resurrection,
May the world find Joy in a time of dejection.
May 2020 be known as the year of survival,
But not only that -
Let it start a revival.
Giving thanks for this Easter “at home” in 2020, and for the faithfulness of God who is at work even now, making all things new. May the God of hope fill us with all joy and peace as we trust in him!
Elizabeth
I joined the church on Palm Sunday the year I was in the sixth grade, at First Presbyterian in Harlan, KY. After weeks of study in what was then “Communicant’s Class,” the time had come! I remember my white dress with the tiny blue flowers, the scratchy crinoline that made little girls’ dresses stand out so pretty and full in those days; the new, shiny, black patent shoes that Mama would scuff on the sidewalk before I wore them, so I wouldn’t slip and fall. I remember the procession of palms, and how we laid them at the foot of the large wooden cross, already banked with dogwood or redbud or whatever was blooming at that time in the mountains. The choir sang “The Palms” every Palm Sunday!
I remember Palm Sundays at Ginter Park Presbyterian in Richmond, Virginia, during my seminary years. The entire congregation would gather on the church lawn to process in together, behind a team of liturgical dancers. The dancers’ carefully rehearsed “two steps forward, one step back” gave witness both to Jesus’ longing for that cup to pass, and his commitment to fulfilling his Father’s will. The women in the crowd shouted: “Hosanna! Hosanna!” and the men replied, “Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!” This was shouted again and again as the gathered congregation made its way into the sanctuary.
I remember the community Palm Sunday processional in Rustburg, Virginia, making its way through the little village, following a donkey with a purple robe on its back. Choirs and ministers wore robes and stoles, confirmation classes from the Methodist and Presbyterian Churches walked together and carried banners, there were babies in strollers, folks in wheelchairs, and young children pulled in wagons. There was joyful singing as we walked along together, waving our palm branches. After breakfast together at that year’s host church, we went our separate ways to Sunday School, while the congregation providing the donkey that year got it safely back to pasture.
We all have our individual and personal memories of holy times and places and seasons that deepen and enrich our journeys of life and faith, and it’s important that we remember and share them.
We’ve come a long way since we began the journey on Ash Wednesday, with the solemn call to remember that we are dust, and to dust we shall return, as we received the smudge of ashes on our foreheads. As we began the Lenten journey that evening, little did we know of the coming “virtual” journey and “e-mail Palm Sunday Service” to come. Now we stand at the threshold of Holy Week.
The challenge before us is to embrace this Holy Week, and to enter into the drama of the passion by reading the Passion Story in each of the four gospels; in the gathering darkness, let us see the darkness in our own lives; in the anger and rejection suffered by the Lord Jesus, let us confront our own anger and deal with our own rejection; as we see Peter’s denial of Jesus, let us see our own. In those sleepy disciples who could not watch and pray in the garden, let us see ourselves. Let us see all the ways we contribute to the suffering of the Savior, and all the ways we are undeserving recipients of his love and grace. As the temple is cleansed, let’s ask the Lord to clear from our lives anything that keeps us from giving to Him His rightful place in each of our lives. Let’s look honestly at our own lives in light of his demonstration of humility and love, his sacrifice and truthfulness, his unselfishness and forgiveness. Holy Week will be “holy” for you and for me if we choose to embrace it, and let its events touch our lives.
As we journey through this Holy Week, may we see with eyes of faith the one who emptied himself, the one who humbled himself and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross, so that at the name of Jesus, every knee should bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (from Philippians 2)
Giving thanks for this Holy Week, and for those streams of mercy, never ceasing, carrying us through these uncertain days in to all that is to come.
Elizabeth