Suggested links

If you have suggestions for articles, poems or songs that have been important to you during this time of pandemic, you can enter them here: Google form.  While we do try to be aware of any misinformation that is being shared, feel free to leave a comment at the bottom of the form if you feel any of our links might be inappropriate. We have not read or viewed everything suggested. 

Here are some of the links suggested by EP Endorsers and friends, in no particular order. 

Written: Entering the Joy of the Resurrection in a Time of Pandemic, In the days of the coronavirus, Prayers for Community in a Time of Pandemic, Thinking about Good Friday during a pandemic, How to handle epidemics as a Christian, The Reality of Covid-19 is Hitting Teens Especially Hard, Why live streaming is not the full answer for churches during COVID-19, Politics of a Plague, Cellphone data shows coronavirus kept churchgoers at home in every state on Easter, In Everything (including coronavirus) Turn Towards JesusChurches Should Think Twice Before Webcasting Their Worship Services, Improvising in a PandemicLeaving EarlyThe coronavirus pandemic feels like an unending Holy Saturday, Christianity Offers No Answers About the Coronavirus. It’s Not Supposed ToGeorge Steiner on Holy SaturdayThe Shift Americans Must Make to Fight the CoronavirusAllowing Worship to Continue to be a Sacred Space in the Zoom WorldSacraments, Technology, and Streaming Worship in a PandemicBauerschmidt, Homily Worship in a Violent WorldBeing Present to God and Each Other During Zoom Group GatheringsWe Are All Monks Now

Podcasts: Analog Church with Jay Kim, On Being, A Poem in Gratitude for Health Care Workers, On Being, Wendell Berry and Ellen Davis.

Videos : The House We Sheltered In, Journey Into SilenceThe Pittsburgh BlessingChristian Ethics Amid Covid-19

Other: Pray as you Go App

Two Versions of the Resurrection

Third Sunday of Easter

Acts 2:14a, 36-41

1 Peter 1:17-23

Luke 24:13-35

One way to tell a story about the resurrection is the one we find in Luke’s gospel. The disciples on that road to Emmaus seem to have been in Jerusalem through the whole week-long events that took place: the parade on Sunday, the crucifixion on Friday, the attempt to anoint Jesus’ body with spices on Sunday.

When the spice-bearing women return with a report of angels proclaiming Jesus was risen, these two Emmaus disciples appear not to know what to do with this information. They must be thinking to themselves that the women’s account can’t possibly be factually true. Some other disciples go test the theory, but apparently see no angels, but no body either. Read more

Second Innocence

5th Sunday in Lent

 

Ezekiel 37:1-14

Psalm 130

Romans 8:6-11

John 11:1-45

Sometimes things break and sometimes they shatter.  In a few short days, our life as we know it has ended. As the scope of a global pandemic dawns on us, we talk of little else, and everything we hear ourselves saying would have been ludicrous even a month ago. At this point two things seem clear: this Pandora’s box will not be closed, and we do not yet know what to hope for. 

A man becomes ill and dies. Bereft, his friends call out to the one who could have stopped death in its tracks (John 11:16, 21, 32). They denounce Jesus for not changing its course. He comes four days too late; the nail is already in the coffin, the infection curve plotted. But then, when the stench of death rises, Lazarus’ friends are inclined to hope they could perhaps get him back (John 11: 39, 22). When something is broken, we want it undone. Read more

Sic Transit Gloria Mundi

Twenty-second Sunday after Pentecost

Haggai 1:15b-2:9 OR Job 19:23-27a
2 Thessalonians 2:1-5, 13-17
Luke 20:27-38

Mrs. Obrien: I just want to die, to be with him.
Preacher: He’s in God’s hands now.
Mrs. Obrien: He was in God’s hands the whole time. Wasn’t he?

From Tree of Life by Terrence Malick

As the liturgical year draws to its close, the lectionary readings make an eschatological turn, looking ahead to our own end and of things as we know them. It’s a shift in tone that flows seamlessly into Advent, where the church learns once again how to live as Jews, suspended between a ruin and a hope. Signs of ruin are everywhere: a planet we’re quickly making uninhabitable, collapsing world order, a country too divided by corrosive political rhetoric to reckon with pressing fundamentals, churches reeling from self-inflicted humiliations. Amid the rubble of a world plundered and a church betrayed from within, hope can grow hollow and brittle, like dry stems in autumn. What’s to become of our planet, our country, our church, ourselves?

In the fall, the season sharing its name with humanity’s turning away from God, such thoughts may arise simply from observing the natural world’s dying back in anticipation of winter. Sometimes we require some rather more direct reminder. During the now abandoned coronation ceremony for newly elected popes, the master of ceremonies would stop the procession three times to set alight a strip of flax. As the fabric burned into smoke and nothingness, he would address the new pope in a loud voice, saying, “Sic transit Gloria mundi,” (“Thus passes the glory of the world”), reminding him of his mortality and the evanescence of earthly power. Read more

Easter Bewilderment

My grandma’s ashes are on my bookcases in a striped canvas bag. She died in December after an unexpected and intense two-month decline. To add insult to injury, my dog was diagnosed with lymphoma three weeks later. Cue two more months of death watch. His bodily breakdown included mid-night trips outside to pee every night (him, not me) and feeling the full brunt of sleep deprivation (me, not him). Last Tuesday, the tumors took on a life of their own that finally ended his. Last Thursday, I got him back and took the liturgically apt opportunity to add ashes to ashes. He’s in a box next to my grandma.

Death, in and of itself, disorients the living. While the ashes collect dust, my 92-year-old grandpa is dreaming about my grandma going for walks and not coming back. He hears her calling his name at night. He’s adjusting to life without his partner of 64 years. I pull in the driveway and catch myself looking to see if the dog is waiting for me at the fence. It’s a habit the age of a fourth grader.

Lent has been – as my friends say – heavy, deep and real. Read more