Abby King Writes // An Easter Meditation 🌷

Welcome to Holy Week, friends. I wrote this meditation for my church's Maundy Thursday service and thought you might enjoy it too. 

For the full experience, try listening to this music from my friend, Kirk, while you read. 

All We Bring Before You:
a meditation on the Lord's Supper

As we begin, take a moment to breathe in deep, remembering that all we are and all we have comes from God. And as we breathe out, letting go of anything is not from God.
 
We remember that the Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”
 
The body of Jesus, broken for you.
 
Jesus, we bring before you our own brokenness. We hold before you our pain and despair, our hurts and disappointments, the mistakes we’ve made and the things we’ve mishandled. We hold before you our heartbreak and our worry, our fears and our grief.  We are honest with you, knowing that you never shame us in our brokenness, but hold us with tenderness, compassion and comfort.
 
As we inhale, we remember that you know what it’s like to feel broken, Jesus.
As we exhale, we let go of fear and shame.
 
The body of Jesus, broken for you.
 
We bring before you the brokenness in our neighbours and our nation. We hold before you the social workers and the self-employed, the doctors and the shelf stackers, the teachers and the hospital cleaners, the carers and the paramedics, the nurses and the bin men. We hold before you struggling parents and anxious children, mental health workers and pharmacists, the ones in nursing homes and the ones who have had their exams cancelled.
 
We hold before you the ones living with poverty or addiction, the ones who are imprisoned or homeless. We hold before you the ones struggling with depression or loneliness, domestic violence or abuse. We hold before you the unwell, the unwanted and the unnoticed, knowing that you see, love and value each person as an infinitely precious child of God.
 
As we inhale we remember that you understand our collective grief, Jesus.
As we exhale, we let go of our burdens and lay them at your feet.
 
The body of Jesus, broken for you.
 
We hold before you the brokenness in our world. We hold before you unjust systems that keep people downtrodden and desperate, oppressed and enslaved. We hold before you racial injustice and gender-based discrimination. We hold before you issues of inequality, materialism, greed and violence. We hold before you corruption and the love of power and money. We hold before you our earth that is crying out to be healed.
 
As we inhale, we remember that in you, Jesus, all things are held together.
As we exhale, we let go of all that does not serve you.
 
In the same way, Jesus took the cup, after supper, saying, ‘this is the new covenant in my blood. As often as you drink it, do this in remembrance of me.’
 
The blood of Jesus, poured out for you.
 
We remember that you love us enough to sacrifice your life for us. We remember that you never leave us or abandon us. We remember that we are not alone, you are always with us and you call us your friends. We remember that you are our shelter, our safe hiding place, our rock and our refuge. We remember that you hold us close in all our brokenness and pain. We remember that you said blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of God.
 
As we inhale, we remember that you are closer than our breath.
As we exhale, we let go of the idea that we are alone.
 
The blood of Jesus, poured out for you.
 
We remember that you are full of compassion and comfort. We remember that you are close to the broken-hearted, the exhausted and the ones at the end of themselves. We remember that you do not come to crush us, but to lift us up and give us hope. We remember that you know each of us intimately and understand exactly what we need. We remember all the ways you have provided for us. We remember that we can hold sorrow in one hand and still find room for joy in the other. We remember that you said blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.
 
As we inhale, we breathe in your comfort and compassion.
As we exhale, we let go of the idea that we are in control.
 
The blood of Jesus, poured out for you.
 
We remember that your kingdom is both already and not yet. We remember that you work justice for the oppressed and bring freedom to the ones in captivity. We remember that you call us to be part of bringing peace and justice to your world. We remember that you have called us to bring your beauty and restoration to the earth and it’s people through painting and music, photography and medical care, building and cooking, teaching and gardening, caring and cleaning, and all the myriad ways you have gifted us. We remember that you said blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they shall be filled.
 
As we inhale, we breathe in your justice and courage.
As we exhale, we let go of everything that does not serve you.
 
The body of Jesus, broken for you.
The blood of Jesus, poured out for you.
 
The body of Jesus broken for us all
The blood of Jesus, poured out for us all.
 
Every time we inhale, help us remember you, Jesus.
Every time we exhale, help us remember you, Jesus.

Amen.
 

With love and gratitude for your company this strange, terrible, wonderful Easter time,

Abby