“Greetings!” And they came to him, took hold of his feet, and worshiped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Do not be afraid, go and tell my brothers to go to Galilee; there they will see me.”
“And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.”
– Matthew 28
The faith of some is bolstered by knowing their God is God. Period. For others, faith is made real (as much as that is not a contradiction) by witnessing what might be doubt even in the best of God.
From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” that is, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” -Matthew 27:45-46
These final words of Christ speak volumes to my soul. They ring with the familiar tone of human questioning, and they are rung to the Father. Continue reading
The time is nearing. No words of mine could possibly better represent this season of standing on the edge of final darkness and eternal light than this performance (included here) of When Jesus Spoke From The Cross (Trinity Episcopal Church, Jazz Fest 2012). Composed by Dave Brubeck in 1989, arranged and performed by Paul English (piano) with David Caceres (Vocals/Saxophone), Continue reading
In the familiar story of Lazarus being raised from the dead, I hear the sorrows of two women weeping for the loss of their brother. I feel the compassionate Jesus witnessing their grief. And I wonder: at what price did Jesus heal Lazarus in the final days of his life? Continue reading
When my father died, friends said, “Do you feel like an orphan?” I said “No, I have a mother”.
When my mother died, friends said, “Now you are orphaned”. I pushed back with still harsher refusal, “No, I have a sister”.
When my sister died, no one mentioned the orphaned. Continue reading
I’m noticing a sideline of happy – showing up spontaneously and parallel with all the other busy feelings and attentions of being and doing.
It first showed up as one word [happy] when sitting on a cushion in meditation two weeks ago. I watched with softened eyes as the sunshine crept across blondish oak floors – breathing in the smokey sticky incense I fondly associate more with Jim Chambers* than the censers of church. And it showed up.
Stayed for a little while then slid like fading light into shadows of the next breath, thought, breath, thought. Continue reading
The rest of the story is that I did. And walk, and draw, and read, and write, and pray and eat. Oh I ate!
Here I am on the top of Prayer Mountain – not my best look, but I was pretty happy up there. Continue reading