By: Maggie Leonard
Reflection—v. 39, the stones would shout
Can you imagine, how would you feel if true peace were within reach—true world peace, true inner peace—where each individual is respected and honored and loved. A world in which each person is self-reflective and is open to God’s loving work of transformation. I imagine that on that day when Jesus entered Jerusalem on that peaceful little donkey, that the air was electric with joy and hope. There is no stopping love. While we have not yet accepted fully love, love has not been stopped. God is truly at work in the world. We have to pay closer attention these days, but that movement of God’s love and joy has not stopped—it’s still palpable in intimate gatherings and wildly hopeful uprisings, in the fields and forests, expansive night skies, a gentle touch from a loved one, sacred rites of passage, the soft light of a candle, and the birth of a new baby. It’s that joy and contentment that catches us by surprise, that sensation we feel welling up in our chests and marks a moment as special. It may seem random and accidental, but it’s always there. With practice, even in those sparse, empty moments, if we take time to sit with God, we can find that joyful flutter in our hearts of stone. The time we spent in Lent praying helps us to remember that.
Prayer God, your love makes the stones shout—may I too know you in my heart.