My faith deconstruction journey has taken a bit of a toll on me these past few years. I’m still struggling over some things, but I still choose to be part of my faith community for one main reason: relationship. I choose to stay for now because of relationships with my friends, with my family, and especially because of my relationship with my Heavenly Parents and my Savior, Jesus Christ. It is through this lens of relationship that I’d like to view Holy Week.
Our Heavenly Parents loved us so much, that they gave us their only begotten son, that if we would believe in him, we would not perish, but have everlasting life. They didn’t send their son into the world for him to condemn us, but to save us. (John 3:16-17)
I invite you to join me for a contemplative Easter holy land tour, but not the holy lands you’re probably thinking of. No, I want to contemplate our own holy spaces of relationship that we each walk daily. I think about the scripture that reminds me to “stand in holy places, and be not moved…” (D&C 87:8) And within our holy spaces, we can “stand close together and lift where we stand” (Uchtdorf, Oct. 2008).
At each stop on our tour, I ask reflective questions. Questions that help me ponder my relationships, and how the space on which I stand can be made holy. Maybe you’ll have questions of your own on this holy tour. I advise that these questions never invoke feelings of shame, guilt, or pressure. No, those feelings are not of God. After all, we cannot earn God’s love or Christ’s grace. Their love and grace are generously offered to us all, no matter what we do. These questions are only meant to inspire, to open our hearts, and to help us receive and share Christ’s abundant love and joy for us. Each of these holy stops teach me a different aspect of Christ’s atoning relationship to us. I hope they help you too.
For our first stop on the tour, imagine Christ entering Jerusalem for his last time. Crowds throng to celebrate and welcome Christ into their city, their own holy space.
I ask myself, what can I do to welcome Christ into my life? How do I celebrate my relationship with Him?
Next on our tour, imagine Christ cleansing the temple. He freed all of the animals and did away with traditions that didn’t bring us closer to God.
I ask myself, what can I do to purify my heart and focus on things that bring me closer to God, while purging traditions that no longer serve my soul.
Jesus washed his disciples’ feet, including the feet of Judas. I often think about that.
I ask myself about the Judases in my life. Could I serve them intimately like that? And then I remember feeding my invalid father, the one who abused me as a child, I remember gently offering him small bites of ice cream, wiping his chin, and smiling as he gratefully gestures for more, and this gives me the tiniest glimpse of the love our Savior had while washing the feet of Judas.
He taught them the sacrament emblems, foreshadowing the significance of his infinite atoning sacrifice for us.
I ask myself how deeply meaningful the sacrament emblems are in my life. How can that symbolic ordinance strengthen my relationship with Christ? After all, this is a renewal of covenants, and to me, covenants are all about trust and relationship and love. How can my covenants be transformational, instead of transactional?
He taught the disciples to love one another as he has loved them.
I think about connecting my love for Christ with his abundant love for me, and I ask myself, how can I best share that uncontainable love with others? How can I help others feel uplifted and encouraged and wanted and needed like Christ has for me? When I ponder this, I remember Sheila Reidhead. When we first moved to Reno over 15 years ago, Sheila enthusiastically welcomed me into her heart despite all of my awkward introverted ways. She laughed with me, cried with me, and taught me to be a hugger. Mostly she taught me to love without abandon. Now she’s abundantly loving us all from up in heaven.
Our next stop on our holy tour is perhaps the darkest one. Imagine Christ in agony, abandoned in a garden, pleading to his father to let this cup pass from him.
And I ask, why was I important enough for Him to courageously suffer excruciating pain for me? For you? I wonder with awe how Christ’s deep pain freed me from my own. Then my thoughts evolve to ask, how can I courageously submit in my agonizing Gethsemane moments by declaring, “not my will, but thine be done.” And as my thoughts evolve further, I think about how I’ve reached out for help in my dark moments as Christ did, and never felt abandoned because He was there. I wonder how I can be a supportive witness in another’s pain so they don’t feel alone in their grief. I think of ways I can more empathetically bear one another’s burdens and mourn with those who mourn.
Many years ago, my friend Kathy Ishoy masterfully modeled this for me when she spent an entire morning watching over me and toddler Eli while folding an entire week’s worth of our family’s laundry. You see, I had briefly fainted that morning from miscarrying my baby. Sean refused to go to work, until I told him to call Kathy knowing she would take care of us. She truly taught me how to humbly support others in their pain.
Now imagine Judas giving Jesus a kiss. Guards swoop in to capture him. Peter protectively defends his beloved friend. A guard loses an ear, and Christ restores it.
In a moment of pure contention and betrayal, Christ pauses all and heals. And I ask myself if I can be such a peacemaker. How can I hone similar peacebuilding skills to help heal hearts and offer compassion in the midst of upheaval? How can I view those who oppose me, not as enemies, but as fellow children of God?
Next we see Christ carrying his cross up the hill, Golgotha. In the midst of his final painful hours, he asks John to take care of his mother Mary. Then near the end he cries out, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.”
I ponder what it means to carry my own cross. I ask myself how I can better reach outside of myself in the midst of my own much smaller trials. How can I practice forgiveness?
I ask myself, what sacred things I’ve experienced in dark silence, while waiting upon the Lord? I ask myself, what stones in my life might need to be moved to experience greater light and joy?
Lastly, let’s imagine our dear Savior, alive and glorious and fully restored. And even in this momentous, earth-shattering moment, he stops to comfort his friend. His compassion has no limits.
I gratefully remember and rejoice that I have been restored through Christ’s loving grace. So I ask myself, how can I help others feel that same limitless compassion? I think of the two great commandments and realize it all comes down to relationships. Because I love the Lord with all my heart, soul, and mind; it becomes easy to love my neighbor and myself. The spaces I tread are joyous and holy when I treat my relationships as holy.
Throughout this Easter tour with you, I’ve essentially asked, “What would Jesus do?” and what I conclude is, “He would love first, and so can I.”
Happy Easter everyone. God bless.
My Easter thoughts were inspired by several things swarming around in my head lately:
Carol Lynn Pearson's "Holy Week."
https://exponentii.org/2023/06/13/holy-week-by-carol-lynn-pearson/
Adam Miller's book "Original Grace"
https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/60610685
Faith Matter's podcast with Kerry Muhlestein "Feeling Separated? So Did Jesus"
https://faithmatters.org/feeling-separated-so-did-jesus-a-conversation-with-kerry-muhlestein/
Emily Belle Freeman's Oct. 2023 Conference talk, "Walking in Covenant Relationship with Christ"
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2023/10/42freeman?lang=eng
Patrick Kearon's April 2022 Conference talk, "He is Risen with Healing in His Wings"
https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2022/04/24kearon?lang=eng