Looking Toward Jerusalem

– Ponderings:

Each Sunday in Lent, the Call to Worship in our traditional service is adapted from a poem or prayer from Ann Weems’ book, “Kneeling in Jerusalem.” The book has more poems than I can use in seven Sundays. This excerpt is from one of my favorites: “Looking toward Jerusalem.”

The journey to Bethlehem
was much more to my liking.
….

I want to linger here in Bethlehem
in joy and celebration,
knowing once I set my feet
toward Jerusalem,
the Child will grow,
and I will be asked to follow.
….

It’s hard to get away
this time of year;
I don’t know how I’ll manage.
It’s not just the time. . .
the conversation along the way
turns from Birth to Death.
I’m not sure I can stand
the stress and pain;
I have enough of those already.
Besides, I’ve found the lighting
on the road to Jerusalem
is very poor.
This time around, there is no Star. . .
….

If I stay in Bethlehem,
I stay alone.
God has gone on
toward Jerusalem.

We are all on a journey; often, we find ourselves on several journeys at the same time. Our journeys might include work, family life, school, health concerns, planning vacations, meeting daily obligations … and more. The Lenten journey calls us to Jerusalem, where our hearts will break but also where hope is reborn.

“As the time approached for him to be taken up to heaven, Jesus resolutely set out for Jerusalem.” (Luke 9:51)

In her poem “Looking Toward Jerusalem,” Weems beautifully captures the tension of the Jerusalem road—one lined with both sorrow and hope. We would all prefer to stay in Bethlehem where it’s Christmas year-round with the Christ child, the shepherds, and the Star, but that’s impossible. Children grow up. Shepherds return to their sheep. The Star darkens. And God is now in Jerusalem.

Jesus knew what awaited him in Jerusalem: betrayal, suffering, and death. Yet he went there anyway. As we walk our Lenten journey, we too must face our Jerusalems—the places of struggle, sacrifice, and surrender. There are moments when faith asks us to move forward, even when the road is unclear, when grief weighs heavily, or when obedience feels costly.

But Weems’s poem reminds us that our journey does not end in suffering. Yes, Jerusalem holds the cross, but beyond the cross, there is resurrection. Beyond the sorrow, there is joy. Beyond the brokenness, there is wholeness.

How can you walk forward with faith, trusting that hope will be reborn? In what ways can you see glimpses of resurrection, even in times of suffering?

Prayer: Lord, as we journey toward Jerusalem, give me the courage to walk in faith. Help me to embrace the sacrifice of Lent, knowing that your love leads me not only to the cross but beyond it—to resurrection and new life. Strengthen my heart, fix my eyes on you, and fill me with the hope of Easter. Amen.