Palm Sunday
Return: Work
"We were made by a power of love, and our lives were meant–are meant–to be lived in that love. That's why we are here."
— Bishop Michael Curry
Bishop Michael Curry, Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, preached these words and proclaimed that love is not sentiment but power—the power that holds the universe together and calls us into our truest work.
Here at St. Mary’s Sewanee, a few of us have been gathering on Sunday afternoons to walk the labyrinth together. We read scripture, walk together each at our own pace, and wait in prayer until the last one has stepped out. Then, with a simple blessing, we depart, carrying the wisdom and insight into our lives. It's holy to journey together to the heart of God, united in our purpose and yet each with our own intention. It feels very much like what Bishop Curry describes: being made by love, living in that love, journeying together because that's why we are here.
And yet, even as I experience this holy pause on Sunday afternoon—the prayers of the community, an intimacy with God, the power of walking together—I woke on Monday morning feeling anxious. I woke with my mind racing over unfinished tasks, difficult conversations, and the week's calendar. The practice is holy. The work is hard.
How fitting, then, that this Palm Sunday we look to Jesus as an example and hope. As he enters Jerusalem and hears the shouts of "Hosanna," he knows that the work is still before him. I wonder if he held onto the voice of God saying, "You are my son, the Beloved, and with you I am well pleased." Did he remember the temptations of the wilderness and draw on the strength he found to resist power, prestige, and pride? Did he look to his disciples and feel the love of God and the deep friendships they had nurtured on this journey together?
I imagine he did. I imagine Jesus entering Jerusalem with every piece of his journey integrated—the wilderness, the mountaintop, the teaching, the healing, the breaking of bread. Not as memories, but as the very foundation beneath his feet.
When I feel anxiety, worry, or uncertainty rising in the midst of my work and vocation, I will try to remember that this week, Jesus will continue the work to which he has been called. He will teach and preach. He will observe the Holy Days and rituals of his tradition. He will break bread with those closest to him. He will withdraw to a sacred place to pray. He will trust in the power of love that made him and the power of love that lives in him.
And that's why we are here. That's what we are called to do as we begin to return from this Lenten journey. Six weeks ago, we set an intention at the entrance of the labyrinth. We walked with our limitations. We arrived at the center and struggled to be present. We waited. We began to imagine integration. And now—the work.
This week at St. Mary's Sewanee, I will write dozens of thank-you notes to donors, our Program Committee will finalize the calendar for 2027, and begin building the calendar for 2028. And I will try to remember that this ordinary, sometimes exhausting, always necessary work is the place where love becomes real. Not just the mountaintop. Not just Sunday afternoons in the labyrinth. But Monday morning. The emails. The conversations. The showing up.
The work is holy because love makes it so.
Practice: Love as Work
This Holy Week, as you move from Palm Sunday toward Easter, practice integrating what you received at the center of your Lenten journey into the work of your daily life.
Monday morning: Name your work. What is the actual work before you this week? Not the ideal spiritual work, but the real work—the emails, the care, the meetings, the decisions, the showing up. Write it down.
Each day: Remember. Before you begin your work, place your hand on your heart and remember: "I was made by a power of love. This work is part of living in that love." Even the difficult parts. Even the exhausting parts.
By week's end: Notice. What changed when you named your work as part of love's work? What stayed hard? What became possible?
The return from the labyrinth is not about becoming perfect. It's about becoming willing to let love be the way, even on Monday morning.
May this week’s reflection linger in your mind and in your heart as you go about your weekly work.
