Letter from Amy: March 25, 2026

The Resurrection of Lazarus, Julia Stankova, 2006 (Bulgaria)

Dear friends,

Our Lenten season of preparation is nearing its end. Holy Week begins this Sunday! You can see all of our services on the Holy Week page of the website. This is the first time we've ever been settled in a single building for the duration of Holy Week, without needing to teardown and setup between every service. As a result, we're trying a few things we haven't done before. And I invite you to try something you haven't done before as well!

But Holy Week isn't primarily about doing stuff or showing up at church. It's about entering more fully into the life of God — in our suffering and tears, and in our hopes of resurrection.

I loved the way last Sunday's readings prepared us for the week ahead. As I mentioned in my sermon, Jesus' healing at Bethany is a sort of quiet triumphal entry, an intimate foreshadowing of his entry to Jerusalem that we'll celebrate with palms on Sunday. The king approaches a sleepy village, not a glittering city; the crowds who hail his arrival are weeping, not cheering. And yet even here, hidden from the public eye, in the context of his dearest friendships, Jesus comes as a liberating king, freeing his people from death's oppression.

I invite you to welcome Jesus in this way — hidden, quiet, intimate, known only to you — as you prepare for Holy Week. Perhaps you'd like to practice praying the Examen this week to consider what you need from God to enter into the week ahead.

During my sermon preparation last week, I encountered a beautiful reflection from Saint Ephrem, a 4th century Syriac hymn writer and theologian. It was particularly moving because the children in the Good Shepherd Atrium plant wheat seeds each year during Lent:

“Jesus' tears were like the rain, and Lazarus like a grain of wheat, and the tomb like the earth. He gave forth a cry like that of thunder, and death trembled at his voice. Lazarus burst forth like a grain of wheat. He came forth and adored his Lord who had raised him.”

Wheat seeds in the Atrium from a previous Lent

Seeds, tears, soil: the work of resurrection is so often slow and hidden. I hope you will find some time to discern God's presence in the slow and hidden places in your own life. And I pray that as we walk together toward Easter, God would also renew your hope in his resurrection power.

With love,

Amy