Our theme for Chapel this week has been “Courage.” As I was preparing for my homily, I began to write and this little poem is the result.
Courage
Author: ramlopez64
Hope (from Trinity Sunday 2025)
Hope is not a fruit of life going well. Hope is the antidote to despair; to hopelessness. Hope is trusting in God’s promised future; that God’s Love will have the last word. Hope is the Empty Tomb of Jesus.
Hope is how God shows up through our suffering and pain. Hope is the Divine Presence sustaining and encouraging.
“suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” (Romans 5.3-5)
Grief
Heaviness.
Behind the smiles, the words
of normalcy seem hollow.
The appearance that all is
as it used to be hides
great grief, a pain beyond
words, a hollowness
within that will live
beyond her death.
Weariness.
My soul is weary; weighed
down with a grief that is
not only mine, but the sum
of a great many whose dark
night awaiting Light look
to God’s priests for words
to heal their wounds – even
as I seek the Quieting Voice.
One day Jesus got into a boat with his disciples, and he said to them, ‘Let us go across to the other side of the lake.’ So they put out, and while they were sailing he fell asleep. A gale swept down on the lake, and the boat was filling with water, and they were in danger. They went to him and woke him up, shouting, ‘Master, Master, we are perishing!’ And he woke up and rebuked the wind and the raging waves; they ceased, and there was a calm. He said to them, ‘Where is your faith?’ They were afraid and amazed, and said to one another, ‘Who then is this, that he commands even the winds and the water, and they obey him?’ (Luke 8.22-25, a portion of the Gospel appointed for Wednesday in Easter 5, Year 1)
What happens when suddenly tragedy comes and a faith community becomes wracked with grief? In a healthy community people come together to offer support and love. People look to the leader or leaders to set the tone in moving forward. Words become important.
Occasionally, though, we who are called to comfort sometimes need comforting words. We need to have the Quieting Voice “rebuke” the storm. We need to be reminded that God’s Love is still working on our behalf so that we can work on behalf of those whose lives are upended by life’s unfathomable twists.
O God of grace and glory, we remember before you this day our sister Holly. We thank you for giving her to us, her family and friends, to know and to love as a companion on our earthly pilgrimage. In your boundless compassion, console us who mourn. Give us faith to see in death the gate of eternal life, so that in quiet confidence we may continue our course on earth, until, by your call, we are reunited with those who have gone before; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
A Good Friday Reflection: “It is finished.”
It is finished.
The grueling ordeal is finally over.
The beginning of the end was less than 24 hours ago. Yet, it felt like forever and no time at all. The physical and emotional swings Jesus experienced were a torment all their own. The whip’s lash stung. But, it did not sting as much as the condemning words from the crowds. Grief plus lacerated skin is a truly terrible combination.
Jesus knew in the depths of his soul how his Divine Mission would end. He knew that this journey into Jerusalem would be his final one. The whispers were all around. He noticed Judas going missing and turning up with an odd demeanor. He watched the disciples in twos and threes talking in hushed voices, their whole countenance revealing fear. The religious authorities were either overly friendly or very distant when Jesus was near. And they were foolish to think Jesus did not notice them abruptly stop talking when he was nearby.
He was very familiar with the history of the treatment of prophets in Jerusalem. “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it!,” he had lamented. “How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!” (Luke 13.34)
He knew the blood thirsty Roman death machine was always ready to jump into action. Arrest, torture and death was always a possibility when one dared speak up and speak out against the political powers of the day. Sadly, Jerusalem was the birthplace of many martyrs.
Yet, Jesus was still surprised when Judas betrayed him. Jesus had hopes that Judas would come around to the message of Divine Love, that his heart would soften. He was not willing to give up on Judas. Even now he would not.
And, he knew Peter would waffle under pressure. What surprised him was that all the disciples abandoned him to run and hide. This broke his heart. The only comfort was knowing that John the beloved, who stayed with him, would care for his blessed mother in her grief.
His mother. That brought a lump to his throat and tears to his eyes. He recalled all of her stories about his birth. About his early years. About his father Joseph whom he barely remembered. About all their struggles. About all the strange sayings of old prophets, prophetesses and others (at least they were strange back then). About the prophesied sword that was obviously piercing his mother’s soul as he looked at her. It was knowing the depth of her pain that was most unbearable for Jesus. Worse even than the crown of thorns and nails.
Nearing the end more moments flashed. Times with friends. Late night discussions with the disciples. Parties and dinners. The public debates with the religious authorities. Prayers powerfully answered through healings and exorcisms – by Lazarus walking out of his tomb after being dead four days. Life, he reflected, had been a wonderful adventure of living with God, with others, in the midst of this world.
Now, after just a few moments of feeling bitterly betrayed and abandoned by his Heavenly Father, he remembered the Voice from Heaven, rumbling like a Holy Thunder reminding him of his mission, of God’s glory about to be revealed. The Voice reminding him, God’s beloved Son, that he is never, ever alone, that everything he has done, every minute of his life, has been for the glory of God, for the salvation of the world.
He lived his life for the glory of God and the salvation of the world. The answered prayers and the public debates. The deep discussions and the little jokes he used to pull on Peter. The parties and the prayer time. EVERY minute, EVERY moment for the glory of God and the salvation of the world.
As the pain numbed his body and his eyelids grew heavy, he felt a peace. If he could move his facial muscles he might even smile. In that moment of growing weakness and gathering darkness he realized that he had fulfilled his mission. HE HAD FULFILLED HIS MISSION. He had done it. He had fulfilled his Father’s will. He lived out his mission fully. He had held back nothing. Whatever happened next was in God’s hands. Whatever happened next would be beyond good and holy and right. It was God’s move now.
Jesus felt a small rush of energy pulse through him. It filled his heart. The sensation caused him to take in a large gulp of breath. He wanted everyone to know what he knew. He wanted everyone to know that he had accomplished his mission. And he wanted everyone to hold on to the hope that God’s next move was going to be world-changing. God’s final, victorious move was about to happen.,
With his last bit of energy and his last breath he offered his final word of Good News:
It. Is. Finished.
Slowly his eyes closed and…
Betrayal: A Holy Week Reflection
At supper with his friends, Jesus was troubled in spirit, and declared, “Very truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me.” (John 13.21)
I wonder when he realized his horrible mistake. I think about how his gut churned and the waves of nausea moving through him as he began to come to grips with the horrible death that would greet his “friend” before the day was over.
Things began so hopefully. This Jesus said all the right things. He had that “it” factor. The crowds flocked to him, hanging on his every word. If anyone could lead the revolution, Judas thought, it was him. If anyone could be the downfall of these Romans and their slimy, profiteering puppets it would be Jesus. “Finally,” he thought, “someone who could make my dreams come true.”
I wonder when things began to unravel. What began his descent into dissatisfaction? When did Judas begin to decide that Jesus was not “it?” Perhaps it was when Jesus preached that “sermon” about the poor being blessed. Or the part of the same sermon when he called peacemakers blessed. What kind of trash thinking is that, Judas fumed.
No. Judas was a man ready for action, violent action if needed. There were days when Judas itched for something to happen. He would have happily unleashed his anger against the Romans. Especially if he were the one who sparked and unleashed the anger of others to spill out in violence. He had always expected and welcomed the chance to exact his revenge on the Romans, their Jewish enablers – especially those pharisees. There were days he thought it would happen. But every time Jesus simply “turned the other cheek.”
Disappointment followed disappointment. Frustrations built. Then Jesus began talking nonsense about how the beloved Temple would be destroyed and he would rebuild it in three days. Then he said something about how his followers should wash each others feet.
Washing feet won’t win a revolution much less start one.
Judas could not remember when the quiet conversations began.
Eventually a deal was struck – with the same people that Judas would have liked to have struck with his own hands.
At table with Jesus and the others, Judas was distant. While the others laughed and shared joy, he was pensive and edgy. He kept touching the money bag at his waist and looking at the door. He heard someone say something about betrayal but he was too distracted to catch much more. Then Jesus gave him a morsel of bread dipped in wine – and he could sit still no longer.
The rest of the night was a blur. He met with his co-conspirators. He watched as a group of armed men gathered. Then he led them under the cover of darkness to where Jesus would always go for his evening prayer time.
There was shouting and shoving. Angry words filled the night. Even a sword was drawn. But in the middle of it all was a very calm Jesus. He settled everyone down. And he went without a fight with the armed men.
Soon Judas had a second bag of silver. But he was even more troubled than before. He watched the guards mistreat and abuse Jesus. He recollected all the times he had seen that done to other Jews. He saw Jesus undergo an unjust trial – another familiar sight. More mistreatment. A sentence of death by crucifixion. More of the same cruelty, Judas thought. More of the same.
Wasn’t this what Judas wanted to be stopped? Wasn’t this why Judas saw Jesus as a savior of the people, someone who could put a stop to Roman abuses and violence? And now, he was thirty pieces of silver richer and part of the very system he hated. In one transaction he sold out Jesus and his own values, his own soul.
There was no stopping the Roman death machine. And there was no changing the reality that he was now what he come to hate. He was no better than the Romans and their supporters.
As he watched Jesus’ torment he realized that it was he who wielded the whip, who beat and spit upon Jesus, who hammered the nails.
He was the guilty one, not Jesus. He belonged on the cross, not Jesus. He deserved death, not Jesus.
His gut churned. Waves of nausea began moving through his body. Realizing his mistakes all along the way a thought came into focus – he had thwarted not only Jesus’ plans but God’s plans. It was God whom he betrayed when he betrayed Jesus. The thought was too much. It broke him. Grief washed over him. Unconsolable. As he threw away the silver his eye saw something.
Wrapping his fingers firmly around the rope, he walked out the door into the dark night.
Children of the Light: A Holy Week Reflection
Jesus said, “While you have the light, believe in the light, so that you may become children of light.” (John 12.36)
Jesus said, “I am the Light of the World.”
He is the Light by which we see. Everything.
Just as everything that was made was made through Christ, everything we see we see by His Light. By this Christ Light we can see not just the forms and features of the world, we can see Truth and Life and the Way.
If we choose to do so at least.
We are inundated everyday from morning to night with image after image after image. The images are not random images either. They are carefully curated and presented to us based on previous purchases, likes, and shares. In a world of Artificial Intelligence, anything is possible.
Anything is possible – but not everything is real, not everything truth or fact.
We need Light to see reality as it is. We need Light to see ourselves as we are. We need Light. We need Jesus.
We need Jesus as he is portrayed in the Gospels – sent by the Creator God who created Creation. We need Jesus who is on a highly urgent rescue mission to save and restore God’s hurting, dying world. We need Jesus whose every word and action embodies God’s Way, Truth and Life. We need Jesus who was and is and always will be a life giving alternative to the death-dealing ways of power and empire.
As “children of the Light” we see the world for what it is. As “children of the Light” we see power and empire for what it is. As “children of the Light” we see others as they are. As “children of the Light” we see ourselves as we are – as we truly are, even if it hurts.
Our greatest temptation is to prefer the comfort-rich, conflict-free space of the shadows. In the shadows we can embrace half-truths about our world, about each other, about ourselves. In the shadows, we can believe but not trust; confuse help with love; see others as enemies not siblings.
As we embrace ourselves as “children of the Light” not only do we begin to see everything more clearly but others see in us the beauty of God’s Love for the world. Our words matter little when uttered from the shadows. The shadows, after all, are a cacophony of useless noise about one thing or another. In the Light, there is only God’s Truth, only God’s Word, only God’s Life – Jesus himself.
In the Light our lives reflect the love of God embodied in Christ Jesus. In the Light we discover there is only an abundance – the more of our love, ourselves that we give away, the more we have. In the Light each of our lives becomes one facet of many providing a glimpse of the beauty of God’s love.
In the Light we begin to understand that we are more, much more, than mere reflections of Christ the Light. In the Light we learn that we are a part of the Light, that we share very deeply the Divine Life of Him who willingly entered the Darkness and Shadows to light the way out eternally.
In the Light we find Life – for us, for all, for eternity.
A Holy Week Reflection: Extravagance
Extravagance is an invitation. We are invited to consider how we hold back. Are we holding back in any part of our lives; in the ways we show up in life?
Consider extravagance in our daily life and work. In a world of busyness and unceasing demands, we might think that sturdier boundaries are what is needed. Extravagance seems unrealistic. What makes more sense is cutting back, saying “no” to a few things. Certainly, being extravagant with our time and energy seems counterintuitive.
Perhaps extravagance in daily life and work is not about time and energy. Perhaps it is about showing up whole heartedly. Perhaps it is about embodying peace in frantic places. Perhaps it is slowing down internally even as the world zooms by. Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers.” (Matthew 5.9) Extravagance is overfilling those around us with a peace that is outside of one’s understanding but which brings the blur into focus; which slows the world down just a bit, where everything seems possible.
Or, we can consider extravagance in our relationships. Far too often in our attempts to keep up with this fast-paced life we sacrifice moments with those closest to us; with those whom we love the most. Our unintended neglect is easily understood. Busyness reigns this world, it seems. It is easy to say, “just this once” and “I will be free next time, I promise.”
What if there is no next time?
Life can change in an instant. Our lives can, without warning, feel the crashing waves of tragedy and loss. We can, in one moment, have all our plans perfectly outlined and, in the next, find those plans obsolete and unusable. Mary’s extravagant act of pouring ointment on the feet of Jesus is a reminder to us of this reality. Soon, very soon, Jesus himself will be lifted upon the cross and Mary’s whole life will change. She knows this – she has already lost her brother, Lazarus, once. She knows the uncertainty and frailty of life. She loves Jesus without hesitation. She pours the whole container of oil on Jesus’ feet as an outward symbol of her own love lavishly poured upon Jesus. She knows better than anyone at table the shortness of life and the need to be extravagant with those whom she loves while she can.
As we move through this Monday in Holy Week consider extravagance. Accept the invitation to extravagance. Allow extravagance to fill your heart, mind and body. Put aside the temptation to hold back parts of our lives from the world around us. Give your love away extravagantly RIGHT NOW. Do not take tomorrow for granted.
Be extravagant today. Pour yourself out as a loving, healing oil of joy and love wherever you find yourself. Share your love extravagantly with all whom you love.
Soon, very soon, the days are coming when moments for extravagant tenderness will give way to grief. Soon, very soon, extravagance will enter the tomb of desolation with Jesus until the new day arrives.
Storm
Grey skies warn, soon comes a storm. Bolts crease the dark sky, booms shake the walls, threatening the calm. Rain comes, gently at first, then a torrent. Water rushes, splashing indentations in the dry ground, a healing power. Soon the rush slows to a steady drip off leaves. Turning softly quiet, the dust of life now washed away, new life soon to emerge. 10 May 2021
Storms fascinate me. The power of a sudden storm awakens the depths of my soul. To be in the presence of such power is a holy moment. I am reminded of my small humanity, of my need for help and Divine Protection. And, when the storm passes and all is calm, my senses are awakened to the reality that new life will emerge from the ground. And I am encouraged, reminded that the storms in life are brief but life giving. Once the torrent ends, peace and life fills the empty space in my life. Growth comes in the aftermath of our storms.
Mark 1.21-28: The Battle Won
Darkness
Darkness loosed
Darkness run riot
Fingers of evil reach
Clawing away peace of mind
Tearing apart by fear, hatred, alienation
Yet, evil’s desperation reveals Truth, Victory won
His Cross stands empty - evil defeated
Light, Love, Life His gift
Wounded hands, saving all
Light breaks free
Light Victorious
LIGHT!
The reality of evil abounds in our own day. The evil forces of this world, as we hear in the Baptismal Liturgy in the Book of Common Prayer, continually seeks “to corrupt and destroy the creatures of God.” Yet, God has already won the battle over evil. Jesus’ cross stands empty. Death has no power. Life, through the saving act of God in Christ, wins. Light wins. Love wins. God wins. The only power evil has is the power humans give it through selfish, self-centered actions and words. We are invited to live in the light. To live a life filled to overflowing with God’s love. Today, reject the powers of evil and live in the power of God’s Love, live in the power of Christ Jesus who has given us the power to cast out the works of darkness. Today, live assured of the Love of Jesus who is the Light of the World.
As the fog burns away
As the fog burns away 'neath the brightening Sun, a clearness settles in my blurred eyes. Landmarks of a familiar place begin to emerge; Slowly at first, their outlines sharpening in the Light. As the fog burns away a path appears at my feet New again the Way ahead slowly winds ahead, Lengthening, inviting tentative steps as of a child Learning to walk, discovering a new, growing world. As the fog burns away an inner light is kindled, Becoming brighter, reflecting the dawning Day Which beckons to be explored with hopeful promise, With unfathomable treasures for the Pilgrim who dares, Who dares to take the first step; who dares to walk; Who dares to live a new life as the fog burns away.
Times of transition are difficult. Whether the change we face is chosen or forced upon us, the flurry of the changes can leave us in a fog. But the fog clears. It always clears – sometimes slowly. When it does we can begin to see that change is possible. We can see that the way forward is clear. And as we move, as we take step after careful step, we find the promise of newness. Whatever has brought the fog into your life, know it will burn away and a new world awaits your exploration.
-Ram
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