Easter Moment 2012: The Holy Women

Icon "The Holy Women at the Tomb"
dates from the third century.
This 20th century writing by Sister Marie-Paul
 Farran, O.S.B. can be purchased online 
in several different forms at The Printery House
More Info:  Praying with Icons

Read Mark 16:1-8


When the sabbath was over, Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James, and Salome bought spices, so that they might go and anoint him. And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen, they went to the tomb. They had been saying to one another, ‘Who will roll away the stone for us from the entrance to the tomb?’ When they looked up, they saw that the stone, which was very large, had already been rolled back. 

As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man, dressed in a white robe, sitting on the right side; and they were alarmed. But he said to them, ‘Do not be alarmed; you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; he is not here. Look, there is the place they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.’ So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. 

They were afraid.  Jesus died ... Life will change.  What happens now?

I am afraid.  My dad has been ill for such a long time ... Life is changing.  What will happen now?

Last summer I was scheduled for an 8-day (+arrival &departure days) silent retreat at the Jesuit Spirituality Center at St. Charles College in Grand Coteau, Louisiana.  Just a short time before I was to leave, my dad went into the hospital yet again.  I shifted things around here and there ... finally my 8 days were trimmed down to 3+ days so that I could be with dad as long as possible.  Agony ... this is what it always is to leave, never knowing if I’ll see his sweet dancing eyes again ... or hear him call me "sugar."  You know, I’ve always hated that, but these days not so much.  Ahhh well, his eyes can manage a blink, a twinkle and a smile most days anyway.

As I unpacked my backs and my art supplies ... I reached into a pack of icon holy cards thinking to myself, "I'll put an icon on my prayer altar and let it speak to me."  When I pulled it out ... honestly, I was very disappointed for this icon did not appear to hold much invitation for me ... holy women at the tomb.   Hmmm, I could put it back and pull out another one, but I kindof felt like that was cheating … I don’t know, fate or the universe or maybe even … God :)  Either you are open to the surprises God has for you or you aren't.

I set up my prayer altar and crawled into my little bed and slept for several hours.  I don't know about you but my life is way too full and I am exhausted more than I am not.  Normally my first day of retreat is a day of “holy rest.”    When I woke later in the evening, I sat at my prayer altar holding my prayer card and cried and cried and ... cried some more.  Then I stirred myself up with laments and laments and .... more laments.  I found myself both rested and emotionally spent at the same time as I wandered the grounds and pondered and prayed under the great oak trees. Suddenly I noticed the little bookstore and walked in.  Books ... can be very distracting :)  Suddenly my eyes were drawn to several icons on a shelf at the back of the store.  Do you have any idea how many religious icons exist in the world?  Well, neither do I, there must be a gazillion I think.   And there sitting right on the shelf in front of me were those darn holy women!  I'm sorry, is that irreverent?

The holy women beckoned to me. I pondered quite awhile before I bought the icon and placed it gently in the center of my prayer altar. We sat together as I lit my candle in the twilight of the evening.  With night falling the gentle women lovingly whispered in my soul ... “Why don't you let us hold your grief for these few days?” 

I realized these holy women understood my grief for they lived it.  They experienced the pain and the anger and the grief and the sheer madness in the depths of their rampant fear, otherwise known as "terror."   And I was terrified that I would lose my dad.  I found myself unable to focus on God.  I was silent on the outside but I there was a storm raging within me.   "Why don't you let us hold your grief for these few days?"

Maybe ... I crawled into my bed, pulled the covers up over my head and slept another 12 hours.  When I woke up the next day, I looked over at those holy women and I felt there had been a shift in the night.  I'm not sure when the peacefulness fell upon me but I felt lighter, almost as if I could float away if I wasn't grounded in something.  And the women were silent and gentle and loving and accepting of me just as I was.   As the morning sun shined brightly through the window bringing a warm glow to my room and my soul, I wanted to take a walk ... I wanted to “find” God … and I’m laughing now because God never gets lost.  It is me that gets lost in life and circumstances.  Ahhh ... perhaps, dear Jesus, you've gone on ahead of me and are waiting for me to show up.  

I sat on the porch in a chair with my journal and my oils pastels at my side.  I sat for a very long time soaking in the silence and breathing.  Finally, I took up my bible and turned to Isaiah 55:13.  It is a beautiful verse to sit with in the silence. That day it was a balmy breeze sweeping across my autumn soul …

Instead of the thorn shall come up the cypress;

instead of the brier shall come up the myrtle; 

and it shall be to the Lord for a memorial,    

for an everlasting sign that shall not be cut off. 

My mom died almost five years ago and my dad still misses her every day as he turns to tell her something and she simply isn’t there.  He sits idly by, waiting … waiting … waiting for the day their love story will continue in heaven.   As I read Isaiah’s little verse, suddenly love came alive for me and burst forth like the flowers of spring, resurrected life in poetry … meet my mom the myrtle and my dad the cypress ... they are an everlasting sign of God's love ... an everlasting sign of the resurrection … an everlasting sign that no matter where we are today or where we go tomorrow … 

The resurrected Jesus is waiting up ahead for us!

Amen!

Grace and Peace!