(with gratitude to the SALT Project and Richard Rohr for their wisdom)
One of the truths about living into faith is that it is more of a journey than a destination – and no matter how well we plan, there are always surprises, problems, interruptions, and sometimes unexpected blessings. Some of you know I have an OLD car – almost 16 years old to the day – and, outwardly, it’s in pretty good shape, with minimal rust and a strong disposition. That said, making my commute from Pittsfield on a regular basis has awakened me anew to the very real challenges of making this journey by faith. I TRUST that God has called me to be with you – and I give thanks to the Lord that I am here – and yet there have been times when the trip has been trying.
· After worship and meetings one Sunday during my first year, I discovered that the new brake job I had done on Friday was defective when, no sooner did I get ON the Pike, than I had no brakes. That was a wild time in prayer, and I rejoiced that I was carried home safely that evening.
· Another time, about two months ago, I couldn’t figure out where a weird rumbling sound was coming from until, after getting home, I saw that my left rear tire was barely hanging on by two out of five lug nuts.
· And no sooner did I get home from Maundy Thursday this year than the power steering, AC, and muffler gave up the ghost as soon as I pulled in the driveway. Now, I’m NOT saying that God caused these problems to test me. That would be superstitious. What I AM saying is that each of these – and a variety of other challenges of my journey – prompted me to pray, act with extreme caution, and then return thanks to the Lord each time I got home safely. Please, do not worry about the Beast or ME – a new vehicle is in the works relatively soon!
I recall this simply to note that I have some experience with the uncertainties of a journey, whether physical, emotional, mechanical, international, or spiritual. So did St. Paul, who likened living into Christ’s resurrection as a pilgrimage – not something that happens all at once – but through practicing seeing by FAITH, not sight. TRUSTING God rather than just what is obvious. Honoring the Spirit’s grace and guidance deep within
· That’s what the Scriptures of Eastertide are all about: learning to see and trust God’s loving presence by faith, not just by sight – and doing our part to honor this mystery. During the seven weeks of Eastertide, poetically one week longer than Lent, we read stories of the risen Jesus appearing to his followers in order that we, too, might embrace the teachings of Jesus and share intimacy with God as they once did.
· And a recurring theme in these post-resurrection stories is how, from the very outset, Christian communities struggled to perceive and believe that God had truly raised Jesus from the dead. For starters, the risen Jesus isn’t recognized at first. Magdalene thought he was the local gardener.
Later in John, the disciples don’t recognize him on the beach. Next week, in Luke, two of Jesus’ followers have an extended conversation with and about Jesus without realizing who he is! Both John and Luke go out of their way to suggest that the resurrection means something more mysterious than simple resuscitation: Jesus has risen and, at the same time, is somehow different. Part of what’s going on is the early Christian community wrestling with the fact that great numbers of people didn’t notice Jesus' return because “resurrection” defies conventional categories. Jesus was clearly back, but only a few had eyes to see that it was really him, his closest followers needed help, and we, too, are asked to learn to see by faith, not merely by sight. (SALT Project)
Today’s story begins by telling us it’s the evening of “the first day of the week,” a day of fresh starts. Mary Magdalene has just declared to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” and Peter and John have gone to the empty tomb in confusion. But as night falls, the disciples are perplexed, huddling in a locked house for fear of the religious authorities. (NOTE: these words ought to warn us about ANY talk of creating a theocracy in the USA, Israel, Iran, or anywhere else! Forcing religion on another is always trouble and thwarts rather than supports the cause of Christ.) So, to start, this is a story of one type of Easter doubt: the fear that all is lost – a very human reaction.
· Suddenly, Jesus arrives and stands among his frightened friends unhindered by the locked doors, saying, “Peace be with you,” which is an astonishing greeting — these are the same men who denied and deserted Jesus just a few days ago, when it mattered most! (SALT Project) And now he brings them a holy blessing because HE sees each of us by faith rather than sight.
· And immediately after this blessing, Jesus shows the disciples his wounds. “Does he look so different that the wounds act as identifying marks? Does he look more or less the same, but the wounds prove he is the person they saw crucified, rather than a doppelganger? Or is he trying to assure them that torture and death have indeed been overcome — that he has somehow, like Lazarus, come out of the other side of the tomb alive? Whatever the details, Jesus addresses another kind of Easter doubt: suspicion that death still has dominion, that physical resurrection is impossible, and that no one can die and rise again.” (SALT Project)
According to St. John, sometimes our journey LOOKS and FEELS as if all is lost. At other times, it floods our minds with the fear that God’s loving power is NOT greater than death. Some Bible scholars also suggest that there’s a third type of Easter doubt. “This one isn’t so much focused on confirming that it’s really Jesus or the plausibility of the resurrection — after all, according to St. John, the disciples have only recently witnessed Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead (the very reason the powers-that-be mobilized to have Jesus killed.) No, this third kind of doubt focuses on whether Jesus is truly the Messiah, for to some, the genuine Messiah would not arise from death in triumphant, invulnerable splendor, but rather as a suffering servant still marked by vulnerability, by fragility, by wounds.” (SALT Project)
· You may recall that the prophet Isaiah spoke of a suffering servant, a Messiah who will make intercession for transgressors. This would be the true Messiah, acting on behalf of a wounded world and showing up as a wounded savior.
· From this perspective, it would make sense that Jesus immediately displays “his hands and his side” to show his friends that God’s Beloved comes not as a military conqueror without blemish, but rather as a strong and peaceful shepherd bearing the wounds of the world, a child of God and a child of Humanity. Jesus is the Word made flesh — and “flesh” means vulnerability, wounds, struggle, and challenge. (SALT Project) Womanist theologian Yolanda Pierce writes that:
By sharing his wounds, Jesus reveals that our wounds are places for God’s healing presence and love, too. This is a blessing for the wounded, for those who are still healing, and even for those who aren’t quite ready for healing. The risen Savior insistently welcomes the doubting, the uncertain, and the grieving to touch and see that he is real and present and here with us. (CAC)
The risen Savior, who had been abandoned, denied, betrayed, and crucified, doesn’t hide his wounds or rush their healing (so that our wounded souls) encased in the frailties of human flesh might also summon enough grace and kindness to acknowledge that our own very human wounds need time to heal? Seeing by faith is living INTO Christ’s resurrection – striving to incarnate our better angels – getting out of our own way so that God’s grace might triumph, albeit imperfectly or haltingly. Practically speaking, that often boils down to learning NEW habits, acquiring NEW inner tools, and interrupting our emotional reactivity for more silence, patience, and compassion. Again, St. Paul is at his best when he articulates what it looks like to be born from above, or servants of the Lord Jesus who seek ye FIRST the kingdom of God, or simply disciples of faith, hope, and love. This contemporary restatement of Romans 12 is spot-on!
So, here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. (The Message)
Did you know that before he became the Apostle to the Gentiles, welcoming non-Jews and Jews alike into the community of Christ, St. Paul spent three years in TRAINING in the Arabian desert? The opening of Galatians chapter one states:
When God, who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might celebrate his way among the Gentiles, I did NOT consult with many. I did not go up to Jerusalem to see those who were apostles before I was but instead went to the Arabian desert. After three years, I returned to Damascus and later went up to Jerusalem to get acquainted with Cephas – whom you know as Peter - and stayed with him for conversation and prayer for fifteen days.
No one is precisely sure who taught Paul the spirituality of the desert, but a few clues are embedded in this short text.
· First, the desert as metaphor: in Judaism at the time of Jesus – and many other spiritual traditions as well- the desert is either a place or a period of time set aside for discernment, silence, testing, isolation, and preparation for serving the Lord. It is NEVER a place of punishment, but rather a place to grow in trust, clarify and cleanse both heart and mind, and let go of all the extraneous distractions of life to grasp what is truly important. In the desert, the prophet Isaiah spiritually heard the Lord proclaim:
Seek my love wherever it may be found; and call upon me while I am near; return to the Lord, that I may have mercy on you. But know this: my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but shall accomplish that which I purpose and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55) First, the desert tells us St. Paul withdrew to do some inner work.
· Second, the desert reminds us of where Jesus fasted for 40 days and 40 nights: before beginning his public ministry, Jesus learned the wisdom of the Lord incarnated in nature from his Wildman cousin, John the Baptist. Paul also went to the wilderness in the spirit of the Chosen who had wandered for 40 years after being liberated from Egyptian slavery by Moses.
· And third, we’re talking about the Arabian desert, where Mt. Sinai stood in all her majestic splendor. It’s the mystical place of uncertainty where the prophet Elijah fled to listen more closely to the still, small voice of the Lord. Mt. Sinai, you may recall, was also where Moses received the 10 Commandments from the Lord and celebrated the first covenant between God and his people. Some have been so bold as to suggest that one of the reasons Paul went to the mountain was to clarify and comprehend God’s new covenant in Jesus.
All of which serves to remind us that if study, preparation, testing, and discernment were essential for God’s first followers, so, too, then in our era of confusion, challenge, and change. Inwardly, we may have experienced grace, forgiveness, renewal, and love, but to make that feeling and those words flesh takes training, practice, making mistakes, and lots of time. We don’t mature in faith all at once, but incrementally; falling down is just as important as getting back up again. And let me say out loud that just this weekend, I had yet another in a lifelong series of learning experiences involving getting out of my own way so that God’s love might flow through me.
· Some of you know that my wife, Di, was recently diagnosed with a rare blood disease that requires immunotherapy. Her first session was on Friday, and during round one, she had an episode where her breathing became labored – one of the normal side effects of this particular drug.
· Her attending medical helpers were excellent and at the top of their game, and got it resolved quickly. Unfortunately, the spasms returned at about 6 pm, didn’t respond to any of our meds, and necessitated a LENGTHY trip to the ER. Thanks be to God, things worked out, and by early morning, we were back home again, safe and mostly sound.
During the first few hours of this episode, my tendency to freak out was on steroids. I’ve long reacted to threats to my loved ones with a fight-or-flight response – I can be chill and focused with most others – but bring a hurt to those I love best, and I become outwardly ferocious and inwardly terrified. And that old reaction was popping around inside of me that night, which was the LAST thing Di needed from me. She needed comfort and clarity, support and presence – which I knew – but really had to struggle to manifest in the moment. As I was heading out the door, I saw these hanging from a stand by my bedside – prayer beads – a Protestant version of rosary beads I used to make for folk. So, I grabbed them, stuffed them in my pocket, and headed off. And while she was having X-rays & EKGs, I sat and prayed with my beads.
· A lot in our tradition really don’t “get” prayer beads – we’ve been taught that only CATHOLICS use them – and often superstitiously. But that’s hooey and judgmental. What one of my mentors taught me is that praying with these beads not only helps refocus my heart on God’s love but also distracts my habits and brain from simply reacting. They help me get out of my own way so there’s more room for God.
· So, that’s what I did: I prayed a cycle of prayers over 15 minutes, and by the time I was done, she was finished with her tests, and we settled in for a LONG wait for her doc.
I need all the help I can get to get over my unhelpful and inwardly wounded places so that I can partner with the Lord. Maybe you do, too, so that we can see by faith, not just by sight. So that we can serve the Lord rather than deepen the angst. You see, if I simply let my emotions remain in charge, if I relied only on my immediate reaction… well, it wouldn’t be pretty and certainly wouldn’t help the one I love most. Part of being born again, growing deeper in faith, and seeing reality by faith rather than just sight, is practicing letting go and letting God. Going deeper into trust rather than our assumptions, reactions, or limited perspective. Do you know the story of Jesus wandering the desert until he meets an old man?
"What brings you to the desert?" Jesus asked. To which the man replied: “Well, I’m looking for my son. I lost him many years ago.” "How did you lose him?” Jesus wondered. “Can you tell me what happened?" "I had one son – not by birth – but by a heavenly miracle. He had tremendous struggles with temptation. And at one point, he even died and came back to life!" Jesus couldn't believe it. Could this really be his father? So, he asked one last question: "Are you by any chance a carpenter?" To which the old man answered: "Yes, yes, I am!" At which point, Jesus rushed forward, embraced the old man, and cried: "Father, it is I! Oh, how I’ve missed you!" Overwhelmed with feeling, the old man smiled and said, “I’ve missed you, too, Pinocchio!”
Today’s story about Jesus, his disciples, and Thomas's doubts gives shape and form to some of the doubts we all have about God’s loving presence. Thomas personifies what our doubts and fears might look like and shows us that we ALL need time to cultivate and incarnate the love of God in our ordinary lives, habits, thoughts, and prayers. Which brings me back to the idea that following the Resurrected Jesus must include learning to see by faith as a journey – and journeys are always hard. Learning NOT to react but discern can be hard. Knowing that we won’t always get it right can be hard, too. That’s probably why I like the way Kate Bowler put it:
Living into Easter is not a feeling – especially one that tells us everything has been fixed or healed – nor is it a resolution to our wounds or an emotional closure. No, a living Easter is the practice of patient and imperfect trust that empowers us to live alongside sadness, boredom, fear, or despair. Easter expands our capacity to hold paradoxical truths together at the same time. For that’s the testimony of Scripture. Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus even knowing the resurrection is coming. St. Paul wrote that we are sorrowful yet rejoicing, grieving NOT as those who have no hope, but grieving nonetheless. And Revelation 21 promises a future where God will at some point wipe away every tear from our eyes, not a promise that we won’t cry now.
Easter is a reality AND a journey – and it is hard. So, let me teach you a prayer song from South Africa that you can use to step back from reacting, interrupt your default position, and open your heart to the blessings of the resurrection. It’s simple… and I use it a LOT while driving and I can’t access my prayer beads…
Come with me for the journey is long (4x)
One of the truths about living into faith is that it is more of a journey than a destination – and no matter how well we plan, there are always surprises, problems, interruptions, and sometimes unexpected blessings. Some of you know I have an OLD car – almost 16 years old to the day – and, outwardly, it’s in pretty good shape, with minimal rust and a strong disposition. That said, making my commute from Pittsfield on a regular basis has awakened me anew to the very real challenges of making this journey by faith. I TRUST that God has called me to be with you – and I give thanks to the Lord that I am here – and yet there have been times when the trip has been trying.
· After worship and meetings one Sunday during my first year, I discovered that the new brake job I had done on Friday was defective when, no sooner did I get ON the Pike, than I had no brakes. That was a wild time in prayer, and I rejoiced that I was carried home safely that evening.
· Another time, about two months ago, I couldn’t figure out where a weird rumbling sound was coming from until, after getting home, I saw that my left rear tire was barely hanging on by two out of five lug nuts.
· And no sooner did I get home from Maundy Thursday this year than the power steering, AC, and muffler gave up the ghost as soon as I pulled in the driveway. Now, I’m NOT saying that God caused these problems to test me. That would be superstitious. What I AM saying is that each of these – and a variety of other challenges of my journey – prompted me to pray, act with extreme caution, and then return thanks to the Lord each time I got home safely. Please, do not worry about the Beast or ME – a new vehicle is in the works relatively soon!
I recall this simply to note that I have some experience with the uncertainties of a journey, whether physical, emotional, mechanical, international, or spiritual. So did St. Paul, who likened living into Christ’s resurrection as a pilgrimage – not something that happens all at once – but through practicing seeing by FAITH, not sight. TRUSTING God rather than just what is obvious. Honoring the Spirit’s grace and guidance deep within
· That’s what the Scriptures of Eastertide are all about: learning to see and trust God’s loving presence by faith, not just by sight – and doing our part to honor this mystery. During the seven weeks of Eastertide, poetically one week longer than Lent, we read stories of the risen Jesus appearing to his followers in order that we, too, might embrace the teachings of Jesus and share intimacy with God as they once did.
· And a recurring theme in these post-resurrection stories is how, from the very outset, Christian communities struggled to perceive and believe that God had truly raised Jesus from the dead. For starters, the risen Jesus isn’t recognized at first. Magdalene thought he was the local gardener.
Later in John, the disciples don’t recognize him on the beach. Next week, in Luke, two of Jesus’ followers have an extended conversation with and about Jesus without realizing who he is! Both John and Luke go out of their way to suggest that the resurrection means something more mysterious than simple resuscitation: Jesus has risen and, at the same time, is somehow different. Part of what’s going on is the early Christian community wrestling with the fact that great numbers of people didn’t notice Jesus' return because “resurrection” defies conventional categories. Jesus was clearly back, but only a few had eyes to see that it was really him, his closest followers needed help, and we, too, are asked to learn to see by faith, not merely by sight. (SALT Project)
Today’s story begins by telling us it’s the evening of “the first day of the week,” a day of fresh starts. Mary Magdalene has just declared to the disciples, “I have seen the Lord!” and Peter and John have gone to the empty tomb in confusion. But as night falls, the disciples are perplexed, huddling in a locked house for fear of the religious authorities. (NOTE: these words ought to warn us about ANY talk of creating a theocracy in the USA, Israel, Iran, or anywhere else! Forcing religion on another is always trouble and thwarts rather than supports the cause of Christ.) So, to start, this is a story of one type of Easter doubt: the fear that all is lost – a very human reaction.
· Suddenly, Jesus arrives and stands among his frightened friends unhindered by the locked doors, saying, “Peace be with you,” which is an astonishing greeting — these are the same men who denied and deserted Jesus just a few days ago, when it mattered most! (SALT Project) And now he brings them a holy blessing because HE sees each of us by faith rather than sight.
· And immediately after this blessing, Jesus shows the disciples his wounds. “Does he look so different that the wounds act as identifying marks? Does he look more or less the same, but the wounds prove he is the person they saw crucified, rather than a doppelganger? Or is he trying to assure them that torture and death have indeed been overcome — that he has somehow, like Lazarus, come out of the other side of the tomb alive? Whatever the details, Jesus addresses another kind of Easter doubt: suspicion that death still has dominion, that physical resurrection is impossible, and that no one can die and rise again.” (SALT Project)
According to St. John, sometimes our journey LOOKS and FEELS as if all is lost. At other times, it floods our minds with the fear that God’s loving power is NOT greater than death. Some Bible scholars also suggest that there’s a third type of Easter doubt. “This one isn’t so much focused on confirming that it’s really Jesus or the plausibility of the resurrection — after all, according to St. John, the disciples have only recently witnessed Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead (the very reason the powers-that-be mobilized to have Jesus killed.) No, this third kind of doubt focuses on whether Jesus is truly the Messiah, for to some, the genuine Messiah would not arise from death in triumphant, invulnerable splendor, but rather as a suffering servant still marked by vulnerability, by fragility, by wounds.” (SALT Project)
· You may recall that the prophet Isaiah spoke of a suffering servant, a Messiah who will make intercession for transgressors. This would be the true Messiah, acting on behalf of a wounded world and showing up as a wounded savior.
· From this perspective, it would make sense that Jesus immediately displays “his hands and his side” to show his friends that God’s Beloved comes not as a military conqueror without blemish, but rather as a strong and peaceful shepherd bearing the wounds of the world, a child of God and a child of Humanity. Jesus is the Word made flesh — and “flesh” means vulnerability, wounds, struggle, and challenge. (SALT Project) Womanist theologian Yolanda Pierce writes that:
By sharing his wounds, Jesus reveals that our wounds are places for God’s healing presence and love, too. This is a blessing for the wounded, for those who are still healing, and even for those who aren’t quite ready for healing. The risen Savior insistently welcomes the doubting, the uncertain, and the grieving to touch and see that he is real and present and here with us. (CAC)
The risen Savior, who had been abandoned, denied, betrayed, and crucified, doesn’t hide his wounds or rush their healing (so that our wounded souls) encased in the frailties of human flesh might also summon enough grace and kindness to acknowledge that our own very human wounds need time to heal? Seeing by faith is living INTO Christ’s resurrection – striving to incarnate our better angels – getting out of our own way so that God’s grace might triumph, albeit imperfectly or haltingly. Practically speaking, that often boils down to learning NEW habits, acquiring NEW inner tools, and interrupting our emotional reactivity for more silence, patience, and compassion. Again, St. Paul is at his best when he articulates what it looks like to be born from above, or servants of the Lord Jesus who seek ye FIRST the kingdom of God, or simply disciples of faith, hope, and love. This contemporary restatement of Romans 12 is spot-on!
So, here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don’t become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You’ll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. (The Message)
Did you know that before he became the Apostle to the Gentiles, welcoming non-Jews and Jews alike into the community of Christ, St. Paul spent three years in TRAINING in the Arabian desert? The opening of Galatians chapter one states:
When God, who set me apart from my mother’s womb and called me by his grace, was pleased to reveal his Son in me so that I might celebrate his way among the Gentiles, I did NOT consult with many. I did not go up to Jerusalem to see those who were apostles before I was but instead went to the Arabian desert. After three years, I returned to Damascus and later went up to Jerusalem to get acquainted with Cephas – whom you know as Peter - and stayed with him for conversation and prayer for fifteen days.
No one is precisely sure who taught Paul the spirituality of the desert, but a few clues are embedded in this short text.
· First, the desert as metaphor: in Judaism at the time of Jesus – and many other spiritual traditions as well- the desert is either a place or a period of time set aside for discernment, silence, testing, isolation, and preparation for serving the Lord. It is NEVER a place of punishment, but rather a place to grow in trust, clarify and cleanse both heart and mind, and let go of all the extraneous distractions of life to grasp what is truly important. In the desert, the prophet Isaiah spiritually heard the Lord proclaim:
Seek my love wherever it may be found; and call upon me while I am near; return to the Lord, that I may have mercy on you. But know this: my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts. For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven and do not return there until they have watered the earth, making it bring forth and sprout, giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater, so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth; it shall not return to me empty, but shall accomplish that which I purpose and succeed in the thing for which I sent it. (Isaiah 55) First, the desert tells us St. Paul withdrew to do some inner work.
· Second, the desert reminds us of where Jesus fasted for 40 days and 40 nights: before beginning his public ministry, Jesus learned the wisdom of the Lord incarnated in nature from his Wildman cousin, John the Baptist. Paul also went to the wilderness in the spirit of the Chosen who had wandered for 40 years after being liberated from Egyptian slavery by Moses.
· And third, we’re talking about the Arabian desert, where Mt. Sinai stood in all her majestic splendor. It’s the mystical place of uncertainty where the prophet Elijah fled to listen more closely to the still, small voice of the Lord. Mt. Sinai, you may recall, was also where Moses received the 10 Commandments from the Lord and celebrated the first covenant between God and his people. Some have been so bold as to suggest that one of the reasons Paul went to the mountain was to clarify and comprehend God’s new covenant in Jesus.
All of which serves to remind us that if study, preparation, testing, and discernment were essential for God’s first followers, so, too, then in our era of confusion, challenge, and change. Inwardly, we may have experienced grace, forgiveness, renewal, and love, but to make that feeling and those words flesh takes training, practice, making mistakes, and lots of time. We don’t mature in faith all at once, but incrementally; falling down is just as important as getting back up again. And let me say out loud that just this weekend, I had yet another in a lifelong series of learning experiences involving getting out of my own way so that God’s love might flow through me.
· Some of you know that my wife, Di, was recently diagnosed with a rare blood disease that requires immunotherapy. Her first session was on Friday, and during round one, she had an episode where her breathing became labored – one of the normal side effects of this particular drug.
· Her attending medical helpers were excellent and at the top of their game, and got it resolved quickly. Unfortunately, the spasms returned at about 6 pm, didn’t respond to any of our meds, and necessitated a LENGTHY trip to the ER. Thanks be to God, things worked out, and by early morning, we were back home again, safe and mostly sound.
During the first few hours of this episode, my tendency to freak out was on steroids. I’ve long reacted to threats to my loved ones with a fight-or-flight response – I can be chill and focused with most others – but bring a hurt to those I love best, and I become outwardly ferocious and inwardly terrified. And that old reaction was popping around inside of me that night, which was the LAST thing Di needed from me. She needed comfort and clarity, support and presence – which I knew – but really had to struggle to manifest in the moment. As I was heading out the door, I saw these hanging from a stand by my bedside – prayer beads – a Protestant version of rosary beads I used to make for folk. So, I grabbed them, stuffed them in my pocket, and headed off. And while she was having X-rays & EKGs, I sat and prayed with my beads.
· A lot in our tradition really don’t “get” prayer beads – we’ve been taught that only CATHOLICS use them – and often superstitiously. But that’s hooey and judgmental. What one of my mentors taught me is that praying with these beads not only helps refocus my heart on God’s love but also distracts my habits and brain from simply reacting. They help me get out of my own way so there’s more room for God.
· So, that’s what I did: I prayed a cycle of prayers over 15 minutes, and by the time I was done, she was finished with her tests, and we settled in for a LONG wait for her doc.
I need all the help I can get to get over my unhelpful and inwardly wounded places so that I can partner with the Lord. Maybe you do, too, so that we can see by faith, not just by sight. So that we can serve the Lord rather than deepen the angst. You see, if I simply let my emotions remain in charge, if I relied only on my immediate reaction… well, it wouldn’t be pretty and certainly wouldn’t help the one I love most. Part of being born again, growing deeper in faith, and seeing reality by faith rather than just sight, is practicing letting go and letting God. Going deeper into trust rather than our assumptions, reactions, or limited perspective. Do you know the story of Jesus wandering the desert until he meets an old man?
"What brings you to the desert?" Jesus asked. To which the man replied: “Well, I’m looking for my son. I lost him many years ago.” "How did you lose him?” Jesus wondered. “Can you tell me what happened?" "I had one son – not by birth – but by a heavenly miracle. He had tremendous struggles with temptation. And at one point, he even died and came back to life!" Jesus couldn't believe it. Could this really be his father? So, he asked one last question: "Are you by any chance a carpenter?" To which the old man answered: "Yes, yes, I am!" At which point, Jesus rushed forward, embraced the old man, and cried: "Father, it is I! Oh, how I’ve missed you!" Overwhelmed with feeling, the old man smiled and said, “I’ve missed you, too, Pinocchio!”
Today’s story about Jesus, his disciples, and Thomas's doubts gives shape and form to some of the doubts we all have about God’s loving presence. Thomas personifies what our doubts and fears might look like and shows us that we ALL need time to cultivate and incarnate the love of God in our ordinary lives, habits, thoughts, and prayers. Which brings me back to the idea that following the Resurrected Jesus must include learning to see by faith as a journey – and journeys are always hard. Learning NOT to react but discern can be hard. Knowing that we won’t always get it right can be hard, too. That’s probably why I like the way Kate Bowler put it:
Living into Easter is not a feeling – especially one that tells us everything has been fixed or healed – nor is it a resolution to our wounds or an emotional closure. No, a living Easter is the practice of patient and imperfect trust that empowers us to live alongside sadness, boredom, fear, or despair. Easter expands our capacity to hold paradoxical truths together at the same time. For that’s the testimony of Scripture. Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus even knowing the resurrection is coming. St. Paul wrote that we are sorrowful yet rejoicing, grieving NOT as those who have no hope, but grieving nonetheless. And Revelation 21 promises a future where God will at some point wipe away every tear from our eyes, not a promise that we won’t cry now.
Easter is a reality AND a journey – and it is hard. So, let me teach you a prayer song from South Africa that you can use to step back from reacting, interrupt your default position, and open your heart to the blessings of the resurrection. It’s simple… and I use it a LOT while driving and I can’t access my prayer beads…
Come with me for the journey is long (4x)
The journey, the journey, the journey is long (4x)
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