Sunday, April 12, 2009

Easter 2009


There has been a singular lack of activity here, probably because I finally decided in February that the master's project I had embarked upon was no longer destined to be a project for evaluation but perhaps, instead, a magazine article. At any rate, I could not bear the thought of devising surveys to try to demonstrate or prove something.

In the course of my reading and ponderings, I seemed to have opened a number of doors that enticed me to step in and explore, and perhaps I have been caught in a wonderful maze instead of marching straight-forwardly towards a goal.

Among other books that I have been reading during my morning meditations, I lately have been compelled by Why Julian Now? A Voyage of Discovery, by Sheila Upjohn. Julian of Norwich is one of two of my confirmation saints, the other being the eponymous Melangell.

In the last several days before Easter, I have been waking up in the morning with the Taize song "Jesus, Remember Me" running as a continuous loop through my head and heart. On Friday evening I attended a Taize service at the St Francis Cathedral, and that chant was featured throughout. Yesterday, the day of Our Lady of Solitude, I felt pensive and heavy. But this morning I awoke to "I Am The Bread of Life!"

As I indicated above, I have been reading during my morning meditation/prayers, and I came across this passage, which loses impact because it has been taken out of the context of the prior musings. Nevertheless, I do not want to lose track of it.

She [Julian] understands that the journey through pain and death that is the result of man's choosing to know evil [the Fall] is not punishment for sin, but the inevitable penalty of incarnation. It is a consequence, not a curse. The demonstration of this is that Christ himself, who was wholly sinless, nevertheless had to bear the consequence of sin. His willingness to bear it breaks the chain that links sin and blame. 'And by this our good Lord Jesus has taken all our blame upon him- and therefore the Father neither can, nor wants to, put anymore blame upon us than upon his own son, beloved Christ.' p.44.