Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Jesus said to Thomas, "Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side.
— John 20. 27
A risen Jesus with wounds still fresh can seem startling— shouldn't he be perfect and shining like everybody in heaven? Raised from death, shouldn't he be free of all suffering?
No. Suffering is a part of life. It is surely a part of love—the willingness to give of oneself even at cost. Life is a journey of vulnerability, and even in resurrection wounds do not suddenly vanish. What vanishes is their power to limit us, define us, or defeat us. Suffering does not end; it just doesn't have the last word. Love has the last word. Our sin, pain, and even death are swallowed up in a greater reality, suffused with blessing, subject to grace, and powerless against the life-giving power of love. Even in our brokenness we are glorious; even in our suffering we belong to life, not death; even in our sin we are the way God loves us.
Resurrection is not about feeling good. It's about our communion with God and our deep connection with life. It is God's victory over all that could separate us from God and from life. It does not remove us from the struggles of life; it prevents them from removing us from life and from God. Like Jesus, we are wounded, and even wounded, we are raised to eternal life.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Friday, April 29, 2011
Wounds
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and peace to you.
Jesus said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe." Thomas said to him, "My Lord and my God!"
—John 21.27-28
You don’t need to be good enough.
You need to be real.
You don’t have to display your wounds,
but through them God can reveal glory.
In your vulnerability and humanness,
in your failures and brokenness,
in the calluses from your labors
and the scars from the journeys you have made,
and in the grace with which God has brought you through
people may find a connection
with a healing, resurrecting God.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
_______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglig
Grace and peace to you.
Jesus said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe." Thomas said to him, "My Lord and my God!"
—John 21.27-28
You don’t need to be good enough.
You need to be real.
You don’t have to display your wounds,
but through them God can reveal glory.
In your vulnerability and humanness,
in your failures and brokenness,
in the calluses from your labors
and the scars from the journeys you have made,
and in the grace with which God has brought you through
people may find a connection
with a healing, resurrecting God.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
_______________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglig
Unless I touch tbe wounds
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and peace to you.
Thomas said to them, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it."
—John 20. 25
When Jesus wanted to go to Bethany to see Lazarus, his disciples worried that that was where people wanted to kill him. One of them said, “Let’s go also, so that we may die with him.” That was Thomas. Thomas was no doubter. He knew the depth of Jesus’ love, love that would suffer in self-giving. That’s why after his death he wasn’t interested in Jesus’ alluring smile or his famous way of breaking bread. What he was interested in was his wounds. Because Thomas knew Jesus was capable of a love that neither avoided suffering nor succumbed to it, but that transformed it. He wanted to connect with Jesus’ suffering—to touch his wounds— in order to love him more deeply, just as Jesus had done. Nothing less than that suffering self-giving would do for Thomas to “believe.”
In a way what Thomas was looking for was his own wounds— and for their transformation: his fear forgiven, failure redeemed and brokenness made holy. He wasn’t looking for evidence of Jesus’ resurrection, but his own. A perfect, unhurt and invincible Jesus who said, “Oh, it was nothing,” could not stir his heart. But one who had suffered deeply and still forgiven him would call Thomas back to life and revive his love.
Unless we embrace another’s suffering, and have forgiven the deepest wounds they have caused us, we have not fully loved them. Suffering itself is not redemptive. But reaching out to another in their suffering, and forgiving one who causes you suffering is the place where love happens. Resurrection does not remove suffering; it transforms it from a wall into a doorway. With Thomas we reach out to the wounds of the world, receive forgiveness, and learn to love.
Deep blessings,
Pastor Steve
__________________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and peace to you.
Thomas said to them, "Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it."
—John 20. 25
When Jesus wanted to go to Bethany to see Lazarus, his disciples worried that that was where people wanted to kill him. One of them said, “Let’s go also, so that we may die with him.” That was Thomas. Thomas was no doubter. He knew the depth of Jesus’ love, love that would suffer in self-giving. That’s why after his death he wasn’t interested in Jesus’ alluring smile or his famous way of breaking bread. What he was interested in was his wounds. Because Thomas knew Jesus was capable of a love that neither avoided suffering nor succumbed to it, but that transformed it. He wanted to connect with Jesus’ suffering—to touch his wounds— in order to love him more deeply, just as Jesus had done. Nothing less than that suffering self-giving would do for Thomas to “believe.”
In a way what Thomas was looking for was his own wounds— and for their transformation: his fear forgiven, failure redeemed and brokenness made holy. He wasn’t looking for evidence of Jesus’ resurrection, but his own. A perfect, unhurt and invincible Jesus who said, “Oh, it was nothing,” could not stir his heart. But one who had suffered deeply and still forgiven him would call Thomas back to life and revive his love.
Unless we embrace another’s suffering, and have forgiven the deepest wounds they have caused us, we have not fully loved them. Suffering itself is not redemptive. But reaching out to another in their suffering, and forgiving one who causes you suffering is the place where love happens. Resurrection does not remove suffering; it transforms it from a wall into a doorway. With Thomas we reach out to the wounds of the world, receive forgiveness, and learn to love.
Deep blessings,
Pastor Steve
__________________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Welcome to heaven
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
In great mercy God has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials.
—1 Peter 1.3-4, 6
What do you think “heaven” is like? A place of infinite joy and glory, a place where God is always and everywhere intimately present? A place where souls continually grow in love of God and one another? A world in which God's miracles are abundant, sin and death are defeated and forgiveness is the very air? Well, what the resurrection of Christ says is that this is it. We are in a changed world.
Expectant parents know what it's like. You live in a reality you haven't actually seen yet. But it's wholly real, and it changes everything. The resurrection of Christ is not just a promise that you get to go to “heaven” when you die. It's a moment of clarity that heaven is at the heart of this world. It unveils the reality that God, who brings creation out of chaos and life out of death with loving grace, is actually the dominant force in the universe. Despite the appearances of this world, the anxious workings of our ego-minds, and the powers of this world that magnify them, despite the ravages of evil, fear and suffering, it is God and not they who reign supreme.
Even in this troubled world, we live in heaven. We haven't learned to see it yet, but it is present, not just in the future, but here and now. The love of God throbs at the heart of all living things. The grace of God flows like electricity through all Creation. Forgiveness is like gravity, drawing us back into the present moment.
So we learn to live in this invisible world of grace that is hidden inside the visible world. We live with this inheritance, this belonging, that is already ours, cherished in the heart of Being itself. The troubles of this world don't discourage us from our hope, because our hope is not wishing for what hasn’t come, but confidence in what hasn't been revealed. The evils of this world do not intimidate us from seeking justice and resisting oppression, because we know that infinite power is on the side of liberation, reconciliation and healing. We learn to live as those who are newly born, with new eyes, with hope and wonder, love and courage. We love without fear, knowing that we've already died and gone to heaven.
Welcome!
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
In great mercy God has given us a new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you. In this you rejoice, even if now for a little while you have had to suffer various trials.
—1 Peter 1.3-4, 6
What do you think “heaven” is like? A place of infinite joy and glory, a place where God is always and everywhere intimately present? A place where souls continually grow in love of God and one another? A world in which God's miracles are abundant, sin and death are defeated and forgiveness is the very air? Well, what the resurrection of Christ says is that this is it. We are in a changed world.
Expectant parents know what it's like. You live in a reality you haven't actually seen yet. But it's wholly real, and it changes everything. The resurrection of Christ is not just a promise that you get to go to “heaven” when you die. It's a moment of clarity that heaven is at the heart of this world. It unveils the reality that God, who brings creation out of chaos and life out of death with loving grace, is actually the dominant force in the universe. Despite the appearances of this world, the anxious workings of our ego-minds, and the powers of this world that magnify them, despite the ravages of evil, fear and suffering, it is God and not they who reign supreme.
Even in this troubled world, we live in heaven. We haven't learned to see it yet, but it is present, not just in the future, but here and now. The love of God throbs at the heart of all living things. The grace of God flows like electricity through all Creation. Forgiveness is like gravity, drawing us back into the present moment.
So we learn to live in this invisible world of grace that is hidden inside the visible world. We live with this inheritance, this belonging, that is already ours, cherished in the heart of Being itself. The troubles of this world don't discourage us from our hope, because our hope is not wishing for what hasn’t come, but confidence in what hasn't been revealed. The evils of this world do not intimidate us from seeking justice and resisting oppression, because we know that infinite power is on the side of liberation, reconciliation and healing. We learn to live as those who are newly born, with new eyes, with hope and wonder, love and courage. We love without fear, knowing that we've already died and gone to heaven.
Welcome!
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Monday, April 25, 2011
Love wins
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Christ is risen!
God has come among us in gentleness.
We have responded by assaulting
the Lamb of God with all our fear and violence—
and it has failed: God's gentleness has prevailed.
Our violence has died, but forgiveness endures.
Christ is risen!
The angry mob has become dust,
and even the mighty Empire has vanished,
but the Loving One lives on.
Christ is risen!
Love is stronger than evil.
Gentleness is mightier than coercion.
Forgiveness is greater than fear.
Christ is risen!
The power of death is an illusion;
the machines of oppression are a sham,
but the grace of God is infinite,
and raises you to life that is eternal.
Christ is risen!
Love deeply, therefore,
and seek justice with courage;
bless and forgive extravagantly,
and be gentle without fear,
for Christ, the Gentle One, is risen.
Christ is risen indeed!
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
Christ is risen!
God has come among us in gentleness.
We have responded by assaulting
the Lamb of God with all our fear and violence—
and it has failed: God's gentleness has prevailed.
Our violence has died, but forgiveness endures.
Christ is risen!
The angry mob has become dust,
and even the mighty Empire has vanished,
but the Loving One lives on.
Christ is risen!
Love is stronger than evil.
Gentleness is mightier than coercion.
Forgiveness is greater than fear.
Christ is risen!
The power of death is an illusion;
the machines of oppression are a sham,
but the grace of God is infinite,
and raises you to life that is eternal.
Christ is risen!
Love deeply, therefore,
and seek justice with courage;
bless and forgive extravagantly,
and be gentle without fear,
for Christ, the Gentle One, is risen.
Christ is risen indeed!
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Friday, April 22, 2011
At the foot of the cross
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
God of love,
at the foot of the cross
we confess our violence,
our desire to make others
carry our suffering.
Forgive us.
We confess our fear,
our illusion of our unworthiness,
our anxiety to justify ourselves
rather than to love.
Forgive us.
We confess our self-centeredness:
that other people become
means or obstacles to our ends
instead of people,
sacred and beloved.
We hurt and judge,
we exploit and dehumanize.
We think that we or others
are unworthy.
We betray your love in us
and we crucify.
Forgive us.
At the foot of the cross
we behold this mystery:
that broken as we are,
we are sacred and beloved,
and you cherish us.
In our darkest violence
you forgive us.
In our deepest shame
you give yourself to us.
In our most adamant betrayals
you are one with us.
At the foot of the cross
give us the gift of sorrow,
the wisdom of an unflinching gaze.
Bless us, that we may know our brokenness,
that we may receive your presence,
that we may accept your forgiveness,
that we may be transformed by your love.
We pray for those whom we have hurt,
and bless those who have hurt us.
We ask and receive forgiveness of all.
We seek only to trust, only to love,
only to heal and to be healed.
At the foot of the cross,
may we die to our fear,
our self-centeredness,
our separation from others.
Take our old, mean lives
and give us new ones,
tender as new green shoots,
lives of grace,
lives of love, mercy and tenderness.
At the foot of the cross,
O gentle God,
may we die with Christ,
that you may raise us up in love.
Amen.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
God of love,
at the foot of the cross
we confess our violence,
our desire to make others
carry our suffering.
Forgive us.
We confess our fear,
our illusion of our unworthiness,
our anxiety to justify ourselves
rather than to love.
Forgive us.
We confess our self-centeredness:
that other people become
means or obstacles to our ends
instead of people,
sacred and beloved.
We hurt and judge,
we exploit and dehumanize.
We think that we or others
are unworthy.
We betray your love in us
and we crucify.
Forgive us.
At the foot of the cross
we behold this mystery:
that broken as we are,
we are sacred and beloved,
and you cherish us.
In our darkest violence
you forgive us.
In our deepest shame
you give yourself to us.
In our most adamant betrayals
you are one with us.
At the foot of the cross
give us the gift of sorrow,
the wisdom of an unflinching gaze.
Bless us, that we may know our brokenness,
that we may receive your presence,
that we may accept your forgiveness,
that we may be transformed by your love.
We pray for those whom we have hurt,
and bless those who have hurt us.
We ask and receive forgiveness of all.
We seek only to trust, only to love,
only to heal and to be healed.
At the foot of the cross,
may we die to our fear,
our self-centeredness,
our separation from others.
Take our old, mean lives
and give us new ones,
tender as new green shoots,
lives of grace,
lives of love, mercy and tenderness.
At the foot of the cross,
O gentle God,
may we die with Christ,
that you may raise us up in love.
Amen.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Thursday, April 21, 2011
A prayer for Christ imprisoned
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
They came and laid hands on Jesus and arrested him.
— Matthew 26.50
O Christ in prison, God in human chains, hear our prayer.
We ask your forgiveness, healing and peace for all who are imprisoned, whether justly or unjustly. Though they are treated inhumanely may they know their humanity. In their confinement may they know their freedom in you. In their shame may they know your love. Among hard and angry people, may they keep their hearts. Though they are judged, may they know their belovedness. Give them hope and courage. Grant them the miracle that they not treat others as they are treated. May they experience the loving presence of Christ among them. Heal the wounds that have caused them to transgress. For all that is hurtful that they have done, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
Guide all who defend and prosecute them, that they may do so with justice and respect. Grant your grace to all who guard them. Give them wisdom and respect, that they not abuse their power, for they hold under their authority the beloved of God. May they, and we, remember that it is you who guards us all.
We ask your forgiveness for presuming to judge or bind another. Grant us humility, forgiveness and compassion. May we who hire others to guard our prisons remember that it is we who turn the key. We confess that we desire to put away those who disturb us rather than to reach out to them in love. Forgive us for judging, and help us to repent of our sin. May we learn to order our society on justice, not revenge. May we remember that all are your children, even those who have done harm, that all are your beloved, even those who do not know love. Help us to see them with the eyes of Christ, who is among them.
We pray for those unjustly accused, for those imprisoned for acts of conscience, for victims of prejudice and persecution. Watch over them in love and grant them justice, that we may hear the cry of their hearts. For you cry out to us in the voice of those whom we reject.
We pray for the families and loved ones of all who are incarcerated. May the bonds of love survive their separation. Give them comfort, strength and hope. As they extend their love to those behind bars, so you reach out to them. Accompany them in love, and help them be as faithful to their beloved ones as you are to us.
O God, by your grace help us transform the nations, societies and systems that rely on oppression, abuse, enslavement and imprisonment to sustain their power. May your justice prevail; your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
O Christ, accused, imprisoned and scorned, we thank you that in compassion you share our deepest sufferings and shame. In peace may we be present with you, who are present to all. Remember us when you come into your kingdom. Amen.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
They came and laid hands on Jesus and arrested him.
— Matthew 26.50
O Christ in prison, God in human chains, hear our prayer.
We ask your forgiveness, healing and peace for all who are imprisoned, whether justly or unjustly. Though they are treated inhumanely may they know their humanity. In their confinement may they know their freedom in you. In their shame may they know your love. Among hard and angry people, may they keep their hearts. Though they are judged, may they know their belovedness. Give them hope and courage. Grant them the miracle that they not treat others as they are treated. May they experience the loving presence of Christ among them. Heal the wounds that have caused them to transgress. For all that is hurtful that they have done, forgive them, for they know not what they do.
Guide all who defend and prosecute them, that they may do so with justice and respect. Grant your grace to all who guard them. Give them wisdom and respect, that they not abuse their power, for they hold under their authority the beloved of God. May they, and we, remember that it is you who guards us all.
We ask your forgiveness for presuming to judge or bind another. Grant us humility, forgiveness and compassion. May we who hire others to guard our prisons remember that it is we who turn the key. We confess that we desire to put away those who disturb us rather than to reach out to them in love. Forgive us for judging, and help us to repent of our sin. May we learn to order our society on justice, not revenge. May we remember that all are your children, even those who have done harm, that all are your beloved, even those who do not know love. Help us to see them with the eyes of Christ, who is among them.
We pray for those unjustly accused, for those imprisoned for acts of conscience, for victims of prejudice and persecution. Watch over them in love and grant them justice, that we may hear the cry of their hearts. For you cry out to us in the voice of those whom we reject.
We pray for the families and loved ones of all who are incarcerated. May the bonds of love survive their separation. Give them comfort, strength and hope. As they extend their love to those behind bars, so you reach out to them. Accompany them in love, and help them be as faithful to their beloved ones as you are to us.
O God, by your grace help us transform the nations, societies and systems that rely on oppression, abuse, enslavement and imprisonment to sustain their power. May your justice prevail; your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
O Christ, accused, imprisoned and scorned, we thank you that in compassion you share our deepest sufferings and shame. In peace may we be present with you, who are present to all. Remember us when you come into your kingdom. Amen.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Betrayal
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
First comes the forgiveness,
your heart laid out like a banquet.
(Later, after the bitter rain, the torrential fire,
it is all that will remain.)
Our betrayal always seems like an accident,
but we've already plundered the sanctuary.
Once we've lost you,
we find ways to throw you away.
Our fear is just waiting to happen,
the tumor that spreads.
When the shoddy bridge collapses,
we always grab at somebody.
So comes the heart failure,
the drunken stabbing of the lover,
burning the house with the children in it.
So cleverly we outsource our suicides.
How much of our struggle in this world
is our writhing in pain
from the knife of sorrow
over what we have done?
O Lord of mercy,
do not save us from our anguish,
but give us your soft arms
in which bitterly to weep.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
First comes the forgiveness,
your heart laid out like a banquet.
(Later, after the bitter rain, the torrential fire,
it is all that will remain.)
Our betrayal always seems like an accident,
but we've already plundered the sanctuary.
Once we've lost you,
we find ways to throw you away.
Our fear is just waiting to happen,
the tumor that spreads.
When the shoddy bridge collapses,
we always grab at somebody.
So comes the heart failure,
the drunken stabbing of the lover,
burning the house with the children in it.
So cleverly we outsource our suicides.
How much of our struggle in this world
is our writhing in pain
from the knife of sorrow
over what we have done?
O Lord of mercy,
do not save us from our anguish,
but give us your soft arms
in which bitterly to weep.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
The power to lay it down
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.
—Isaiah 53.7
I lay down my life for the sheep. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again.
—John 10.15, 18
To take up your cross and follow Jesus means to be gentle and loving in the face of abuse—but it does not mean to be a victim, or to put up with injustice. It does not mean that you suffer for the sake of suffering; it means that you are loving for the sake of changing people, beginning with yourself. Taking up your cross is different from being a victim in that it is free, it is loving, and it is for the purpose of transformation.
The cross symbolizes our injustice and all the ways we hurt each other, whenever we judge, exploit and dehumanize people. It symbolizes the abuse of the weak by the strong. Jesus suffers the cross in love, not in fearful submission. He “takes it up,” freely entering into suffering that is not his (he is innocent) in solidarity with all who are judged, both the guilty and the innocent. He endures it with love toward all who despise and abuse him.
He does so freely. His life is not taken from him; he lays it down of his own accord, from a place of power—not the power of coercion, but the power of love, the power of God.
And he does this as an act of insurrection/resurrection, to transform both himself and his persecutors. He confronts evil and robs it of its power. He who is innocent faces our condemnation, he who is gentle faces our violence, and he denies them their power and authority. He does this to draw his abusers (including us) into his love and forgiveness. He does it to change us.
It is wrong to tell victims of injustice—a woman in an abusive relationship, workers denied rights, the millions who are exploited and persecuted—to “take up their cross” by enduring their suffering in silence. That is just imposing another cross on them. According to our baptismal vows we take up the cross by “accepting the freedom and power God gives us to resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.”
We do not turn the other cheek in helplessness, we do it as an act of power. “I have the power to lay it down,” Jesus says. We do it in love and freedom, in order to change the situation. We feed the hungry, befriend the prisoner, defend the rights of the poor and oppressed, confront systemic evil and change power structures not as victims, but as agents of change, because we trust that when we lay down our lives in love, resurrection happens. And the point is not suffering. It's resurrection.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he did not open his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he did not open his mouth.
—Isaiah 53.7
I lay down my life for the sheep. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have power to lay it down, and I have power to take it up again.
—John 10.15, 18
To take up your cross and follow Jesus means to be gentle and loving in the face of abuse—but it does not mean to be a victim, or to put up with injustice. It does not mean that you suffer for the sake of suffering; it means that you are loving for the sake of changing people, beginning with yourself. Taking up your cross is different from being a victim in that it is free, it is loving, and it is for the purpose of transformation.
The cross symbolizes our injustice and all the ways we hurt each other, whenever we judge, exploit and dehumanize people. It symbolizes the abuse of the weak by the strong. Jesus suffers the cross in love, not in fearful submission. He “takes it up,” freely entering into suffering that is not his (he is innocent) in solidarity with all who are judged, both the guilty and the innocent. He endures it with love toward all who despise and abuse him.
He does so freely. His life is not taken from him; he lays it down of his own accord, from a place of power—not the power of coercion, but the power of love, the power of God.
And he does this as an act of insurrection/resurrection, to transform both himself and his persecutors. He confronts evil and robs it of its power. He who is innocent faces our condemnation, he who is gentle faces our violence, and he denies them their power and authority. He does this to draw his abusers (including us) into his love and forgiveness. He does it to change us.
It is wrong to tell victims of injustice—a woman in an abusive relationship, workers denied rights, the millions who are exploited and persecuted—to “take up their cross” by enduring their suffering in silence. That is just imposing another cross on them. According to our baptismal vows we take up the cross by “accepting the freedom and power God gives us to resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves.”
We do not turn the other cheek in helplessness, we do it as an act of power. “I have the power to lay it down,” Jesus says. We do it in love and freedom, in order to change the situation. We feed the hungry, befriend the prisoner, defend the rights of the poor and oppressed, confront systemic evil and change power structures not as victims, but as agents of change, because we trust that when we lay down our lives in love, resurrection happens. And the point is not suffering. It's resurrection.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Monday, April 18, 2011
Stay with me
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, "Sit here while I go over there and pray."
— Matthew 26.36
I
He does not ask great faith of me,
but only that I stay awake
to the prayers of the suffering.
II
In every faltering morning meditation,
my prayer mere tissue in the wind,
in every half-hearted afternoon,
heart drifting in and out of sleep,
there is One, soggy-kneed and steady,
who is praying
with all the heart of heaven,
unceasingly
praying
for me.
III
You are my prayer.
You are my companion,
my garden,
my sleep.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
Jesus went with them to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, "Sit here while I go over there and pray."
— Matthew 26.36
I
He does not ask great faith of me,
but only that I stay awake
to the prayers of the suffering.
II
In every faltering morning meditation,
my prayer mere tissue in the wind,
in every half-hearted afternoon,
heart drifting in and out of sleep,
there is One, soggy-kneed and steady,
who is praying
with all the heart of heaven,
unceasingly
praying
for me.
III
You are my prayer.
You are my companion,
my garden,
my sleep.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Friday, April 15, 2011
Divine kindness
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
While they were eating, he said, "Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me." … He took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, "Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
— Matthew 26.21, 27-28
We know where this story is going, and so does Jesus. The powers are already seeking his life. Judas has already snapped in place the last piece of his trap. Jesus will face injustice, brutality and evil. Even his friends will abandon him. And yet in the face of all this he offers extraordinary kindness. Knowing full well his friends will turn on him, he shares a meal with them, placing the one who who will betray him in the seat of honor at his side. He says his blood that will be spilled is a sign not of our guilt, but of our forgiveness. Even to his tormentors he will extend grace and gentleness.
Jesus' response to evil is love. This is the fulfillment of his teaching of nonviolence. Watch in this Holy Week how Jesus embodies the steadfast kindness of God. Even to our deepest evil, God responds with gentleness and love.
As you witness this grace, confess your sin, and be honest with God about your hurtful ways and your complicity in the suffering of others—not to take on guilt, but to open yourself to forgiveness. Take your place at the table with him, among his Beloved who are forgiven. Eat and drink deeply of God's grace and mercy. Pray that you may faithfully follow Jesus and take up your cross: that you may receive Christ's spirit of compassion, and the courage God gives us to be gentle and loving even in the face of people's fear, anger and violence. Go with Jesus into this rough world, bearing in your heart God's extraordinary kindness to all people.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
While they were eating, he said, "Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me." … He took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, saying, "Drink from it, all of you; for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”
— Matthew 26.21, 27-28
We know where this story is going, and so does Jesus. The powers are already seeking his life. Judas has already snapped in place the last piece of his trap. Jesus will face injustice, brutality and evil. Even his friends will abandon him. And yet in the face of all this he offers extraordinary kindness. Knowing full well his friends will turn on him, he shares a meal with them, placing the one who who will betray him in the seat of honor at his side. He says his blood that will be spilled is a sign not of our guilt, but of our forgiveness. Even to his tormentors he will extend grace and gentleness.
Jesus' response to evil is love. This is the fulfillment of his teaching of nonviolence. Watch in this Holy Week how Jesus embodies the steadfast kindness of God. Even to our deepest evil, God responds with gentleness and love.
As you witness this grace, confess your sin, and be honest with God about your hurtful ways and your complicity in the suffering of others—not to take on guilt, but to open yourself to forgiveness. Take your place at the table with him, among his Beloved who are forgiven. Eat and drink deeply of God's grace and mercy. Pray that you may faithfully follow Jesus and take up your cross: that you may receive Christ's spirit of compassion, and the courage God gives us to be gentle and loving even in the face of people's fear, anger and violence. Go with Jesus into this rough world, bearing in your heart God's extraordinary kindness to all people.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Thursday, April 14, 2011
O lowly King
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Behold, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
— Matthew 21.5
O lowly King,
forgoing the war horse,
regal on a donkey,
King of Israel,
Ruler of the Universe,
lower than all of us—
Hosanna! Save us!
From our love of war horses,
of being above others,
of being right, being in control—
save us!
O Prince of Humility,
riding a burro,
Sovereign beneath us,
we honor you.
Grant us your royal confidence
in gentleness and grace.
For adored, abandoned and belittled,
over all things you reign;
over all things you prevail.
O thou whose majesty is invisible,
whose power and honor
look foolish to the fearful,
grant us love in the face of domination.
Grant us the courage to say
to all publics and powers,
“I follow the King of the Universe,
the little man full of mercy
on the jackass.”
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
Behold, your king is coming to you,
humble, and mounted on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
— Matthew 21.5
O lowly King,
forgoing the war horse,
regal on a donkey,
King of Israel,
Ruler of the Universe,
lower than all of us—
Hosanna! Save us!
From our love of war horses,
of being above others,
of being right, being in control—
save us!
O Prince of Humility,
riding a burro,
Sovereign beneath us,
we honor you.
Grant us your royal confidence
in gentleness and grace.
For adored, abandoned and belittled,
over all things you reign;
over all things you prevail.
O thou whose majesty is invisible,
whose power and honor
look foolish to the fearful,
grant us love in the face of domination.
Grant us the courage to say
to all publics and powers,
“I follow the King of the Universe,
the little man full of mercy
on the jackass.”
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Their prayers go out
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Their prayers go out
some to a God they know
some to a hope they have
some to no one
Their suffering their tears
their longing their silence
their not believing
is their prayer
Their prayers go out like rain
covering the earth
and we walk in it
and do not know
like the song of a bird
we do not see
and we wonder
what this deep aching is
like the smoke of incense
we try not to breathe it in
but it is our breath
we too breathe it out
like spiderwebs we walk through
we get off the elevator trailing them
they are the laying on of hands
we speak and they rumple our words
They walk around the house within
We hear the footsteps, the floor creak
Do we dare stand
by the window?
Their prayers go out
and haunt the earth
a gold thread
a line of tears
They are our prayers
if only we heard
if only we prayed
They are God's prayers
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
Their prayers go out
some to a God they know
some to a hope they have
some to no one
Their suffering their tears
their longing their silence
their not believing
is their prayer
Their prayers go out like rain
covering the earth
and we walk in it
and do not know
like the song of a bird
we do not see
and we wonder
what this deep aching is
like the smoke of incense
we try not to breathe it in
but it is our breath
we too breathe it out
like spiderwebs we walk through
we get off the elevator trailing them
they are the laying on of hands
we speak and they rumple our words
They walk around the house within
We hear the footsteps, the floor creak
Do we dare stand
by the window?
Their prayers go out
and haunt the earth
a gold thread
a line of tears
They are our prayers
if only we heard
if only we prayed
They are God's prayers
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Tuesday, April 12, 2011
The warmth of God
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
This far into spring, there is still some snow in the woods, white shadows, fading crescents of ice lying beneath the thickets. I wonder how long it will take the warm air and rain to melt it all away. I wonder when the last spring snow will fall, and disappear.
This far through Lent, I'm not done repenting. This far along in my life, there are still icy places in my heart, resistance, life frozen up, covered. I wonder how long it will take for it to melt away.
The woods have no anxiety about this. Some trees are already budding, and there are little pussy willows fuzzing up at the edge of the meadow. Others are as bare and stern as in December. The beech trees are still hanging onto last year's leaves. They do not compare or judge, or concern themselves with gauging the future. They simply open themselves to the sun as it moves in among them.
“How much?” “How long?” “How good?” These are the questions of the anxious mind, and are of no help. Leave them behind, go into the meadow, and wait. Our hearts thaw out, and sins melt away, not under pressure, not by grinding or digging, but by resting in the warmth of God. Rest there, then, and enjoy the grace that even with ice at your feet you are enfolded in a gentle, warm embrace. Let it hold you. Forget the blizzards of your guilt, let go of yearning for the summer of you perfection, and simply be in this present moment, held in the warmth of God.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
This far into spring, there is still some snow in the woods, white shadows, fading crescents of ice lying beneath the thickets. I wonder how long it will take the warm air and rain to melt it all away. I wonder when the last spring snow will fall, and disappear.
This far through Lent, I'm not done repenting. This far along in my life, there are still icy places in my heart, resistance, life frozen up, covered. I wonder how long it will take for it to melt away.
The woods have no anxiety about this. Some trees are already budding, and there are little pussy willows fuzzing up at the edge of the meadow. Others are as bare and stern as in December. The beech trees are still hanging onto last year's leaves. They do not compare or judge, or concern themselves with gauging the future. They simply open themselves to the sun as it moves in among them.
“How much?” “How long?” “How good?” These are the questions of the anxious mind, and are of no help. Leave them behind, go into the meadow, and wait. Our hearts thaw out, and sins melt away, not under pressure, not by grinding or digging, but by resting in the warmth of God. Rest there, then, and enjoy the grace that even with ice at your feet you are enfolded in a gentle, warm embrace. Let it hold you. Forget the blizzards of your guilt, let go of yearning for the summer of you perfection, and simply be in this present moment, held in the warmth of God.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Monday, April 11, 2011
A spirit came
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
A spirit came, adorned in white,
with flowers of spring, in rising light,
and laid a hand upon my breast,
and said, “’Tis you, among the rest,
I love. And as each moment slips
away your name is on my lips.
Each breath you take, and then release,
I breathe, until such breathing cease.
And though you do not see me here,
I hold your heart. I’m always near.”
So deeply known, and loved, I fell
in love, and yet I could not tell
how such a lovely stranger might
have come to know my day and night,
my soul, the heart and boundaries
of all my life. Then gently these
and all my questions, with a smile
the spirit interrupted, while
embracing me, intent and grave
and ardent, and then gently gave
me such a look of tender calm,
and traced a line across my palm,
and, wreathed in silence, breathing peace,
said, “Truly, I will not release
my claim upon you, precious child,
‘till you are finally reconciled
with my low, patient, humble way—
no, not until your dying day.
I give you nothing, but enfold
your hands in mine so that you hold
me always, and you always know
that I hold you, ‘till you let go.
I will be with you, always near,
‘till you, like I, shall disappear.”
The spirit placed an airy ring
upon my finger, promising,
“To you, my love, I will be true,
and some day I'll come back for you.
So watch, each moment, and attend.
It won’t be long; the path will end.”
The spirit gave a garland made
of flowers (that would quickly fade),
and touched my forehead with a prayer
and left me, trembling, standing there—
and yet, I vow, did not depart,
but lives here still within my heart.
Now every time I sigh, or sleep,
or sit in silence, close and deep,
I see the shadow of my friend
who is my path, and is my end,
and give and take, with every breath,
the gift that is my life, and death.
And all things change, and all things die;
each moment passes, as do I.
I die to all but this brief day
‘till I myself have gone that way.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
_______________________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
A spirit came, adorned in white,
with flowers of spring, in rising light,
and laid a hand upon my breast,
and said, “’Tis you, among the rest,
I love. And as each moment slips
away your name is on my lips.
Each breath you take, and then release,
I breathe, until such breathing cease.
And though you do not see me here,
I hold your heart. I’m always near.”
So deeply known, and loved, I fell
in love, and yet I could not tell
how such a lovely stranger might
have come to know my day and night,
my soul, the heart and boundaries
of all my life. Then gently these
and all my questions, with a smile
the spirit interrupted, while
embracing me, intent and grave
and ardent, and then gently gave
me such a look of tender calm,
and traced a line across my palm,
and, wreathed in silence, breathing peace,
said, “Truly, I will not release
my claim upon you, precious child,
‘till you are finally reconciled
with my low, patient, humble way—
no, not until your dying day.
I give you nothing, but enfold
your hands in mine so that you hold
me always, and you always know
that I hold you, ‘till you let go.
I will be with you, always near,
‘till you, like I, shall disappear.”
The spirit placed an airy ring
upon my finger, promising,
“To you, my love, I will be true,
and some day I'll come back for you.
So watch, each moment, and attend.
It won’t be long; the path will end.”
The spirit gave a garland made
of flowers (that would quickly fade),
and touched my forehead with a prayer
and left me, trembling, standing there—
and yet, I vow, did not depart,
but lives here still within my heart.
Now every time I sigh, or sleep,
or sit in silence, close and deep,
I see the shadow of my friend
who is my path, and is my end,
and give and take, with every breath,
the gift that is my life, and death.
And all things change, and all things die;
each moment passes, as do I.
I die to all but this brief day
‘till I myself have gone that way.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
_______________________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
For Lazarus to rise
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
When Lazarus heard his name
he took a sudden breath.
With visceral trembling blood resurged.
But then, as when awakening some days,
he lay a moment, mired,
reluctant to rise from the familiar
swaddling of his death.
Rising, even more than dying,
there could be no return:
for if he chose to stand,
all he knew would then be lost.
And still now every morning,
each momentary wish for healing
is a risk, a wakening call
to change, to choose,
to leave so much behind,
and be again made new.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
When Lazarus heard his name
he took a sudden breath.
With visceral trembling blood resurged.
But then, as when awakening some days,
he lay a moment, mired,
reluctant to rise from the familiar
swaddling of his death.
Rising, even more than dying,
there could be no return:
for if he chose to stand,
all he knew would then be lost.
And still now every morning,
each momentary wish for healing
is a risk, a wakening call
to change, to choose,
to leave so much behind,
and be again made new.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Thursday, April 7, 2011
How you loved me
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
That without a word
you sat with me in grief,
me wounded and alone,
robbed beyond grasping,
you silent and present,
beyond grasping—
this was love.
That you did not save me
but accompanied me,
that when I fell apart,
confident in the whole you did not try
to glue back the pieces,
that you did not protect me from my pain,
my heart’s crucial kneading,
did not root around in the ashes
looking for blame,
that you resisted the temptation of explanation,
the ruse of a plan, some clever dramatic device
as if the click of some little metal piece into place
could dismiss what was happening in my heart,
that you set me no timetable, that you planted
no fence beyond the strong horse of my anguish,
that you withheld your dexterous knowhow,
so readily shouldered the weight,
accepted the nails of powerlessness,
dared the nothingness empty-handed,
that you were still there
as the petals fell,
patient for the rolling away of the stone—
this is how you loved me,
helpless, raw and given.
This is how you love me still,
since love that has passed through death
will never die again.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
That without a word
you sat with me in grief,
me wounded and alone,
robbed beyond grasping,
you silent and present,
beyond grasping—
this was love.
That you did not save me
but accompanied me,
that when I fell apart,
confident in the whole you did not try
to glue back the pieces,
that you did not protect me from my pain,
my heart’s crucial kneading,
did not root around in the ashes
looking for blame,
that you resisted the temptation of explanation,
the ruse of a plan, some clever dramatic device
as if the click of some little metal piece into place
could dismiss what was happening in my heart,
that you set me no timetable, that you planted
no fence beyond the strong horse of my anguish,
that you withheld your dexterous knowhow,
so readily shouldered the weight,
accepted the nails of powerlessness,
dared the nothingness empty-handed,
that you were still there
as the petals fell,
patient for the rolling away of the stone—
this is how you loved me,
helpless, raw and given.
This is how you love me still,
since love that has passed through death
will never die again.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
"Come out!"
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
"Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live.”
—Ezekiel 37. 4-5
So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, "Lord, he whom you love is ill." ... He said to the disciples, "Let us go to Judea again." The disciples said to him, "Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?"… Jesus began to weep. … He cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."
— from John 11
Under the roaring silence of your death,
a voice calls you by name.
Tunneling under the the world yelling at you,
a bird song that pierces iron walls,
a strong hand, unflinching, a voice
reaches into the dark mountain,
reaches through the cages and sewers,
the vast abandoned valleys,
into the shark's mouth of fear,
into the cave of your death, and its own,
and finds the skeleton,
finds the bones made of stone and despair,
gathers your bones from trash piles,
and speaks to your fragments,
wraps its flesh around your bones,
gives them its blood, its breath, its life.
Only the voice of a love that fierce
can call your name
and you come out,
out of your old death
into the quiet morning,
a squinting newborn,
stunned, beloved, swaddled,
ready to be set free,
knowing nothing
but the sound of that voice.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
"Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the Lord. Thus says the Lord God to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live.”
—Ezekiel 37. 4-5
So the sisters sent a message to Jesus, "Lord, he whom you love is ill." ... He said to the disciples, "Let us go to Judea again." The disciples said to him, "Rabbi, the Jews were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?"… Jesus began to weep. … He cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."
— from John 11
Under the roaring silence of your death,
a voice calls you by name.
Tunneling under the the world yelling at you,
a bird song that pierces iron walls,
a strong hand, unflinching, a voice
reaches into the dark mountain,
reaches through the cages and sewers,
the vast abandoned valleys,
into the shark's mouth of fear,
into the cave of your death, and its own,
and finds the skeleton,
finds the bones made of stone and despair,
gathers your bones from trash piles,
and speaks to your fragments,
wraps its flesh around your bones,
gives them its blood, its breath, its life.
Only the voice of a love that fierce
can call your name
and you come out,
out of your old death
into the quiet morning,
a squinting newborn,
stunned, beloved, swaddled,
ready to be set free,
knowing nothing
but the sound of that voice.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
Tryst
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Awake at night, in covering darkness,
held unfaithfully by sleep,
I stirred. I became incomplete.
I was helpless: in love,
unable to resist.
I rose and crept out into the dark.
Guided by the faintest light I sought you,
and found you and fell into your arms,
and you wrapped yourself around me,
your arms the arms of dawn,
your legs the shining hills of earth,
your hair the radiance of sun.
You enveloped me in light,
and we lay together in the clear day,
for all to see.
Why, then, time after time,
am I still ashamed, as if it is a secret,
that we love each other so?
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
Awake at night, in covering darkness,
held unfaithfully by sleep,
I stirred. I became incomplete.
I was helpless: in love,
unable to resist.
I rose and crept out into the dark.
Guided by the faintest light I sought you,
and found you and fell into your arms,
and you wrapped yourself around me,
your arms the arms of dawn,
your legs the shining hills of earth,
your hair the radiance of sun.
You enveloped me in light,
and we lay together in the clear day,
for all to see.
Why, then, time after time,
am I still ashamed, as if it is a secret,
that we love each other so?
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Monday, April 4, 2011
Courage
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
Though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. Then after this he said to the disciples, "Let us go to Judea again." The disciples said to him, "Rabbi, the people there were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?" …. Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." … Martha said to Jesus, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” … Jesus began to weep. … He cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."
—from John 11.1-44
Compassion is the courage to enter into another's suffering for the sake of their blessing. It is not always problem solving. It is presence, out of which we may take action to bring about healing or justice. Jesus went to Bethany not merely to fix Lazarus, but to enter into the sisters' grief, the grief of all mortals that even Jesus cannot spare us from. Thomas, Faithful Thomas, recognized his courage, and chose to share it.
It is only from the place of weeping with those who weep that we can enact healing for those who suffer and justice for those who are oppressed. What stands between us and the eradication of poverty and injustice is not power, resources or adequate economic theories, but the insulation we place in fear between us: we are afraid of feeling their loneliness or their hunger, touching their hopelessness, sharing their pain.
Our Lenten fasting is a practice of courage, of entering into another's suffering, even a small bit of it, for the sake of compassion and justice, and learning to care about love more than comfort and security. Our fasting and prayer is no mere gesture. It is practice, by which we enter into the suffering of the world for the sake of its healing. In so doing we enter into the heart of God, whose very nature is self-giving love for the sake of her beloved Creation. The measure of our suffering is of no matter: in prayer and fasting we die to ourselves and become part of the Body of Christ, sharing the love of Jesus and the courage of the saints and martyrs. Forty-three years ago on this day, April 4, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. In prayer and in fasting, his courage and compassion becomes ours.
In love, weep with those who weep and stand with those who are oppressed, in the spirit of the One who weeps with us in love, the One who calls us out of our fear into new life, who raises us up, unbinds us and sets us free.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
Though Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus, after having heard that Lazarus was ill, he stayed two days longer in the place where he was. Then after this he said to the disciples, "Let us go to Judea again." The disciples said to him, "Rabbi, the people there were just now trying to stone you, and are you going there again?" …. Thomas, who was called the Twin, said to his fellow disciples, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." … Martha said to Jesus, "Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” … Jesus began to weep. … He cried with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!" The dead man came out, his hands and feet bound with strips of cloth, and his face wrapped in a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."
—from John 11.1-44
Compassion is the courage to enter into another's suffering for the sake of their blessing. It is not always problem solving. It is presence, out of which we may take action to bring about healing or justice. Jesus went to Bethany not merely to fix Lazarus, but to enter into the sisters' grief, the grief of all mortals that even Jesus cannot spare us from. Thomas, Faithful Thomas, recognized his courage, and chose to share it.
It is only from the place of weeping with those who weep that we can enact healing for those who suffer and justice for those who are oppressed. What stands between us and the eradication of poverty and injustice is not power, resources or adequate economic theories, but the insulation we place in fear between us: we are afraid of feeling their loneliness or their hunger, touching their hopelessness, sharing their pain.
Our Lenten fasting is a practice of courage, of entering into another's suffering, even a small bit of it, for the sake of compassion and justice, and learning to care about love more than comfort and security. Our fasting and prayer is no mere gesture. It is practice, by which we enter into the suffering of the world for the sake of its healing. In so doing we enter into the heart of God, whose very nature is self-giving love for the sake of her beloved Creation. The measure of our suffering is of no matter: in prayer and fasting we die to ourselves and become part of the Body of Christ, sharing the love of Jesus and the courage of the saints and martyrs. Forty-three years ago on this day, April 4, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. In prayer and in fasting, his courage and compassion becomes ours.
In love, weep with those who weep and stand with those who are oppressed, in the spirit of the One who weeps with us in love, the One who calls us out of our fear into new life, who raises us up, unbinds us and sets us free.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Friday, April 1, 2011
April fool's blessing
Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
April 1: a foot of thick snow.
May heaven's April fool jokes
continually beset you;
may the fickle drifts of your mastery
pile up, and melt,
but only after you shovel them;
may the treasures of earth
awaken your flesh and invite you to dance;
may unexpected blessings
weigh upon you, change your plans,
soak in deep, and make things green.
May you never need to know
too far in advance.
May you be ambushed by grace,
and always more astonished than not.
May every squall return you
to the fleeting moment
and whisper: Watch.
This won't last long.
____________________
Weather Report
Variable,
as a front of unpredictability sweeps away
a high pressure zone of control,
with increasing powerlessness
and occasions of “being at the mercy of.”
Expect high humility, and accumulations
of 6 to 10 inches of surrender.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Grace and Peace to you.
April 1: a foot of thick snow.
May heaven's April fool jokes
continually beset you;
may the fickle drifts of your mastery
pile up, and melt,
but only after you shovel them;
may the treasures of earth
awaken your flesh and invite you to dance;
may unexpected blessings
weigh upon you, change your plans,
soak in deep, and make things green.
May you never need to know
too far in advance.
May you be ambushed by grace,
and always more astonished than not.
May every squall return you
to the fleeting moment
and whisper: Watch.
This won't last long.
____________________
Weather Report
Variable,
as a front of unpredictability sweeps away
a high pressure zone of control,
with increasing powerlessness
and occasions of “being at the mercy of.”
Expect high humility, and accumulations
of 6 to 10 inches of surrender.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve
______________________
Copyright © Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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