Musings will offer contemplations from Mirari: The Way of the Marys from now until Easter Monday.
Acknowledgment of the grace of the particular is a treasure of our way of Mary and of this day of Holy Week . . .
It was not only Yeshua’s act of washing the feet, but the humility he showed to kneel before his companions, and their submittal to it, that was affecting. This matter of the flesh was then emphasized newly as he left the humble place of kneeling to preside at table. There, he proclaimed the miracle of the Last Supper, saying that he was the Bread of Life, turning bread into his flesh and wine into the blood of The New Covenant, of which they would each partake and go forth, not as they had been, but as he was.
Taking this in, I contemplate what our offerings bring to each other. I marvel at how much more than “meaningful” they can be when we give of our truest selves and when we honor the particular in each other.
I ask myself if I am fully willing to partake of The New as I go forth newly. Because there is a knowing rising, a growing sense that another end is coming.
All of these days of holy week have an edge. That edge “is” this sense of an end. Each one is powerful, poignant, and—if not outright painful—painful in the sense that each day, all those near to Jesus knew more certainly that the end was near. The dread of “the end” was as powerful as the hope of “the new.”
From my window in the cabin in this 21st century I wonder about the fullness of time’s theme in ACOL and Mirari. I ponder the centuries of nearly worldwide acceptance of time written as BC, ”Before Christ,” and AD, “Anno Domini” in Latin; in English “in the year of our Lord.” Time since the birth of Jesus. (Now there is a move to BCE: before the common or current era, and CE the current era.)
Before Christ: BC, and “In the year of our Lord: AD, to me, embrace the grace of the particular.
Today, I acknowledge the complexity of both/and. I hope to step out of the “common era” and into a new time. I know I am on that edge, but not alone. We are here to remember. In honoring diversity, I may mourn language made “common,” but I know that in our sacred hearts, the uncommon language of the private, the imaginative, and the hopeful . . . have greater power . . . the power to end and begin again.
Jesus and Mary “already” partook in the end of the time that was. In this second coming, this New Advent, you and I are also partaking. You and I can have a part in a new and sacred coming again.
Each in our own way, we can say goodbye to the old and embrace the expectancy of the Second Coming, the coming of The New.
I remember, and bring to you, these passages from A Course of Love
[B]e beacons now to the new. You who have gained so much through your learning and your study and your sharing of the same may find it difficult to leave it behind. A choice made by you to stay with learning rather than to move beyond it would be an understandable choice, but you are needed now. Needed to help establish the covenant of the new. T4:9.9
This Covenant is the fulfillment of the agreement between you and God. The agreement is for you to be the new. As you are new, so too is God, for you are one, if not the same. As you are new, so too is the world, for you are one, if not the same. As you are new, so are your brothers and sisters, for they, too, are one, if not the same. D:4.1
We are writing a new first page, a new Genesis. It begins now. It begins with the rebirth of a Self of love. It begins with the birth of Christ in you and in your willingness to live in the world as the Christ-Self. D:14.14
This has been spoken of as the second coming of Christ because my story goes unfulfilled without your fulfillment. It is only in your fulfillment of the continuing story of creation that my story reaches completion. D:Day1.25