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Dear Beloved Cathedral Community,
Could we start again?
As we enter Holy Week and prepare to celebrate the joy
of Easter, we find ourselves standing at the edge of something deeply
unsettling and profoundly beautiful. We are invited once again to
walk the path of Christ—through suffering, compassion, and ultimately
toward resurrection and new life.
This week doesn’t begin with certainty. It begins with
tension. With a kind of chalk outline drawn around the human heart,
honest, exposed, and searching.
àAnd,
in full honesty, this is also the time of year when I reliably return
to watching Jesus Christ Superstar all of them, every year, without
fail. Some people have Lenten disciplines; apparently mine includes
Andrew Lloyd Webber.
But maybe that’s not accidental. Because the words of
Mary Magdalene in Jesus Christ Superstar give voice to something
real:
“I don’t know how to love him…
What to do, how to move him…
I’ve been changed, yes, really changed…”
They echo more than a song, they echo the disciples,
the crowds, and maybe even us. Because Holy Week is not just about
what happened to Jesus. It is about what is happening within us as we
draw closer to him.
We feel the pull. We sense something shifting.
“I seem like someone else…
For I’ve seen him…
And all my trials and tribulations…”
This is the strange grace of Holy Week: proximity to
Jesus disrupts us. It unsettles the versions of ourselves we thought
were steady, composed, in control.
And maybe that’s exactly the point.
Because Jesus does not remain at a distance, safe,
explainable, manageable. He moves toward us in a way that invites
response.
“I don’t see why he moves me…
He’s a man, he’s just a man…” And yet, he is not just
anything.
He is the one who overturns our assumptions, who meets
us in our contradictions, who draws love out of places we didn’t know
existed.
Holy Week is where admiration becomes confrontation.
Where curiosity becomes vulnerability. Where distance becomes
decision.
“Should I bring him down? Should I scream and
shout?
Should I speak of love, let my feelings out?”
We may not shout. We may not wave palms. But we are
still faced with the question:
What will we do with him?
Because to truly see Jesus this week—to follow him
through betrayal, suffering, silence, and the cross—is to feel both
fear and longing rise together.
“He scares me so.
I want him so.
I love him so.”
— Jesus Christ Superstar (Rice & Webber)
And alongside that deeply personal question comes a
very concrete call. In the Gospel, Jesus reminds us that welcoming
the stranger is not simply an act of kindness; it is an encounter
with Christ himself:
“I was a stranger and you welcomed me.” (Matthew 25:35)
Throughout Scripture, God calls us to care for those who are vulnerable,those who
hunger, those who are afraid, those who seek safety and dignity for
their families.
In our own communities today, many of our migrant
neighbors carry heavy burdens. Some live with uncertainty about their
safety. Others struggle to secure housing, food, or the ability to
work legally. Many are simply trying to remain together with those they
love.
During this Holy Week and Easter season, all plate
offerings received from Palm Sunday through Easter will be dedicated
to the Migrant Support Fund.
These funds are used to address immediate needs,
including:
·
Keeping families safely together
·
Providing basic necessities
such as food and housing
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Helping adults secure or maintain the ability to work
·
Assisting individuals in avoiding incarceration when
they have not been convicted of a crime
Through this fund, our community is
able to respond quickly and compassionately when urgent needs
arise. Your generosity becomes a living expression of the Gospel—an
act of hope in a world where many feel forgotten.
Together, we can embody Christ’s love by protecting
our neighbors who are afraid, feeding those who hunger, and welcoming
the stranger among us.
So as we enter this week
together, we don’t rush to resolution. We don’t skip ahead to Easter
morning.
We stay here, in the tension,
in the questions, in the
honest chalk lines drawn around our hearts.
And this is my sincere hope for you, for your future:
that you would learn how to love him.
And in learning, be changed.
Called.
And sent to love him, in the neighbor, in the
stranger, in one another.
Let us pray:
God of mercy and compassion,
You walked among us as one who had no place to lay his
head.
You welcomed the outcast and protected the vulnerable.
Open our hearts to the stranger in our midst.
Give us courage to stand beside those who live in
fear,
generosity to share with those who hunger,
and wisdom to build communities where every family can
live in dignity and peace.
Bless all migrants and refugees seeking safety and
belonging.
May our actions reflect your love,
and may the hope of the Resurrection guide us toward a
more just and compassionate world - Amen.
Grace and peace,
Tim+
The
Rev. Timothy M. Kingsley
Provost,
Saint Mark's Episcopal Cathedral
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