BELIEVING, an Earth Day Meditation

Dream a Greening Planet, painting by Hilary Marckx

John 20: 19-31

© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved


Earth Day.

The scientists marched.

A day to consider the Earth:

what it is, what it is to us,

what we are because of it,

what we would be without it.

We humans seem to live

in compartments of

either/or polarizations.

We think of ourselves

as separate entities

from each other,

all other life forms—

even from ourselves,

if you consider

how we all let our conscious minds


they have bodies attached.

Yet, all that is,

is a part of all that is.

There is a silliness abounding

in this nation

that has many convinced

that environmental issues

do not count as much

as economic profits,

that making money

from coal and oil is more


than protecting humans

from black lung disease.

There is a belief

in some sectors that

science apart from the

science supporting industrial expansion,

or creationism,

can be discounted with impunity

and without consequence.

The call to faith,

the invitation to believe,

comes from many places

and in divergent manifestations.

It is more than convenience

that moves us to believe

in pierced hands

we have never actually seen.

I wonder how hard it is to believe

that in the devastation of this planet

we can see the pierced hands

of the one who spoke this earth

into being?

Or how hard

it might be to find a

crucified Jesus

in the devastation of our planet?

Because I think in theological terms,

I can see a link

between the actions humans

take that hurt our earth

and what we do that harms

our relationships with each other

and with God.

I have come to understand that we,

the earth—

all creation

is part of God’s incredible

and beautiful body.

And because I believe this,

I have come to believe

what we do to each other,

what we do to the earth,

we do to our God.

AND TELL THEM — an early meditation for Easter

Easter for all

John 20: 1-18

© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved

Go to my sisters and brothers

and tell them…

An Easter Morning Commission.

Tell them.

Tell them what you have seen.

Tell them what you have heard.

Tell them…

Mary had seen

and told.

What have we seen that we can tell?

Mary had heard

and told.

What have we heard that we can tell?

So what is there to tell, anyway?

It’s more than an interesting question.

What do we have to say about Jesus?

That we have seen…

That we have heard…

That all are welcome at the Table?

That we will be the Jesus you need

to love and journey with you?

That hope is alive

and lives and is

already in your heart

if you will but listen?

I have seen joy.

I have seen the beauty

of new life growing in God.

I have heard stories about wonder.

I have heard voices break as

fear turns to joy.

Not just from Sunday witness,

but from the very souls of those we encounter

when we really, truly, listen.

Truly hear the heart.

Really see the soul.

Recognizing the sacredness of the other

in every encounter.

Listening, seeing, this is how we spread

mercy and hope and grace.

Calling out,


being present,


sending out to tell,


going out and telling,

this is Easter…


Come On In!!

Matthew 21: 1-11

© Hilary F. Marckx, all rights reserved


My little granddaughter, Khaleesi,

walks into a room waving to the crowd,

any crowd

as if they were her subjects

and she is their royal princess.

Grand entrances work if you are either

truly grand,

or three years old and cute as a bug.

Jesus, now,

gritty, sweaty,

Galilean on a donkey,

Jesus was whatever he was,

but for sure he wasn’t cute.

He was serious business.


he was on his way to die.

It is debated

whether or not there was a crowd.

There are arguments about

whether or not

he was actually seen as God,


as he is portrayed,


in this text.

For me,

the question is less

how he was seen,

or how many people gathered,

or even

how majestic was his entrance.

For me the question is,

always is,


how do I/will I respond to his entrance

into my heart and life?

How have I

responded in the past?

Sometimes with overwhelming gratitude,

joy, near tears from relief

as I realize

I no longer have to make it on my own,

many times

irritation as I struggle with

the inconvenience of change —

of heart, of attitude, of preferences, of will…

Those times when I just want to be mean

and get even,

hurt back,


dig deep for some grace

to exchange for hurt,

are the times I know for sure

that I have truly encountered

this one

who enters worlds and political systems and hearts

by way of a humble servant.