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.

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.