“And being found in human form, he humbled himself
and became obedient to the point of death— even death on a cross”.
Read: Philippians 2:1-8
It is not my tradition to venerate the cross with gestures of bowing or kissing the cross. I watched this respectfully at worship service at the Ecce Homo convent in Israel, but I remained in my seat.
It is not my tradition to gaze upon the crucified figure of Jesus upon the cross. In fact, I’m generally a little shy of contemplating the wounds of Jesus.
Imagine my surprise one Lent when a story about a 14th century Celtic monk living a solitary life on the Farne Islands, off the coast of England, took hold of me.
He is un-named and known as “the Monk of Farne.” His writings survive. In this passage he writes of hearing the voice of Jesus speak to him and then he responds.
Jesus speaks: “All day long I stretched out my hands on the cross toward thee, O Man, to embrace thee; I bow down My head to kiss thee when I have embraced thee, I open My side to draw thee into My heart.”
The Monk of Farne responds:
“I have fled to Thee… Thou dost stretch our Thine arms to receive me and bend down Thy head to kiss; Thou dost … open Thy side in Thy desire to draw me within …” (From Celtic Daily Prayer, Book One, The Northumbria Community, 2015)
On Holy Saturday I feel close to Mary Magdalene who stayed closed to Jesus. She remained steadfast. Perhaps she, too, heard the words: “I open My side to draw thee into My heart.”
Though his body lay in the tomb and that tomb was empty of life, perhaps these very words tethered their hearts.
And yet.
Within the mystery of this day, we are drawn into the heart of Jesus. Perhaps we touch our own side to acknowledge the wounds we carry. Perhaps we cross our hands over our heart trusting its steady rhythm while we wait in stillness.
We pray in song, “Wounded Healer” by Audrey Assad.
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