Lent 2019

 

Lenten Reflection: April 14, 2019

STM Lenten ImageI am surrounded by forest, but I’m not in New England anymore. There are few river birch trees or flourishing patches of heather here. As I walk through the woods, a bevy of oaks—black-green and operatic in size—shade my progress. From time to time, male cardinals soar from branch to branch above my head, punctuating the forest canopy with flashes of scarlet.

I am walking through the Western Reserve of Ohio, taking my bi-yearly tour of a dear friend’s horse stable.   

My route brings me out of the shade, past sweet smelling rolls of hay, through purple-pink fields of clover and by paddocks of horses. I am near my journey’s end now: a small barn, whitewashed and glittering in the late morning sun. Attached to the barn’s back is a fenced-in field. I walk past the barn and unlatch the gate. Once inside, I call:

“Dusty! Gus!”

Two donkeys, fuzzy and grey, trot up to me. Dusty gently nuzzles my hand while Gus stands patiently next to me. Their warm, sturdy presence encircles me. I reach out with both my hands and simultaneously scratch the donkeys between their ears. I close my eyes. I have once more found my secular sanctum sanctorum.

Though the flora and fauna of Jerusalem is very different from the flora and fauna of the Western Reserve, I often think of my time with Dusty and Gus when I hear the Gospel of Luke on Palm Sunday. I find myself wondering if the colt, the foal of the donkey, that Jesus rode was anything like them. Did Jesus, when no one was looking, find solace in the creature’s warm, sturdy presence as together they ambled along the teeming city streets?

And, most importantly, did Jesus ever get a chance to scratch it between its ears? And when he did, was his fear for the suffering that was yet to come temporarily soothed?

Sarah Woodford '10 M.Div.

Sarah Woodford '10 M.Div.

Sarah is the Director of The Vincent Library at STM.