Unfolding Light

             I regard everything as garbage
             compared to the surpassing value
             of knowing Christ Jesus my Beloved.
             I want to know Christ
             and the power of his resurrection
             and the sharing of his sufferings
             by becoming like him in his death,
             if somehow I may attain the resurrection from the dead.
                                      —Philippians 3.8, 10-11


What keeps me from loving boldly when it’s hard,
from bearing witness to grace in a mean world?

     I’m afraid of being hurt, of being scorned
     of being blamed for upsetting people.

        It’s the desire to be safe, to be liked, to not be in trouble.
        For all that garbage, I suffer fear. I cling to it!

            Jesus, take this garbage from me. I’d rather have you.
            I choose your grace over the world’s adoration .

What keeps me from hoping steadfastly?
     I despair because my power is so puny.

          Help me unload my attachment to my effectiveness.
          I’d rather be with you in a lost cause than winning without you.

My fears and desires weigh me down.
     When I welcome your grace what I cling to becomes trash.
         I let it all go.
               Dying with you, I am set free. I am risen.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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             Six days before the Passover
             Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus,
             whom he had raised from the dead.
                                     —John 12.1


Jesus has waded into the depths of death
and fished Lazarus out.
His feet are still wet with death
as he moves now toward the death
of the Passover lamb, and his own,
and he knows it.
And Mary knows.
This is why she washes his feet.
She has seen his weeping,
seen the strange quiver in his eyes
as he faced the grave,
almost like recognizing a friend in a crowd.

This is where he lives,
between death and death,
and where we live our lives,
between our first risings and our last.
This is the promise of our First Washing:
every act we commit, each word we speak
we are always between deaths,
in the company of the Crucified One.

Whatever struggles we face,
whatever losses or griefs,
we go with the courage of those who are
between resurrections.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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We go through life accruing death,
accumulating losses, gathering about us
the growing light of grief.
The heart feels each a loss
but the soul claims them as blessing.
It’s the very journey of holiness:
surrendering, clinging to nothing,
in weakness finding strength,
in trust knowing freedom,
in poverty receiving grace.
And so we gladly mourn,
we allow ourselves to be pierced,
to be anointed for burial,
its fragrance filling our house.
We open ourselves
to our most profound losses,
and even our own death,
         stilled,
and so, stripped of all that weighs,
         free.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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The Lady is strong and active and beautiful,
but those who see know the tumor is growing.
Its tendrils root their way into her brain,
its tyranny unfolds day by day, its unbridled greed.
She will not survive this, though her people will go on.
Her immune cells will do their best,
till they are overwhelmed.
Every muscle will be sapped for the sake
of the burgeoning cancer, its insatiable hunger
to occupy, to dominate, to feed itself off of her.
But burdened as they are, her organs and tissues
will still do their work. They will serve.
Each will offer its gift for the body,
for the sake of the whole, sick as it is.
They will work their transformations,
sending word from cell to cell,
a sacrament of energy, of union and self-giving.
The cancer takes her beauty, but not her grace.
She may grow moody or quiet or even combative,
but then will weaken and withdraw;
yet even under the tumor’s cruel demands,
every cell but the cancer will faithfully carry on,
heroically doing its given work,
life, even in death, always giving life.
This sustains us,
the joy of good labor and generous living,
a divine love present in our embodiment,
the tireless working of a mysterious grace
in shared effort and the passing of life
from hand to hand, the joining of our lives together
in one beautiful body, even as it fails,
even until the last breath
 of a once lovely nation.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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             For our sake God made Christ to be sin
                    who knew no sin,
             so that in Christ
                   we might become the righteousness of God.
                                             —2 Corinthians 5.21

Righteousness is not being right;
it’s being in harmony.,
being in tune with God, and one another.

We are chronically out of tune;
but Christ meets us, matches our flat notes,
makes a love song with our wayward noise.

We try to make a solo,
but God sings along and makes a duet,
a whole chorus, a symphony, a choir of angels.

Despite our discord
we become part of God’s beautiful harmony.
We become the righteousness of God.

This miracle, this flash of genius,
music where there was none,
can become the song of one’s life.

As we listen,
as we tune ourselves to this grace,
our lives become more and more beautiful.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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             The younger son said,“Give me my share of the property…”
             The older son said, “You never gave me so much as a goat…”
                         —Luke 15.12, 29

Gracious One, I imagine your sadness
that we only pray for the stuff we want—
not for you, for your closeness —for your sake.

“Please fix this disease.
Thanks for the sunset.
Protect my child.”

There is so much I want,
so much I worry about.
I lay them all down.

I just want you. No stuff.
Let me be near to you.
Beloved, hold me close.

Not for me, but for you, for love of you,
may I always, most generously,
extravagantly, give myself to you.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Fear is Satan’s press secretary.
It will try to convince you of all kinds of lies.

Dread of the future is sometimes justified—
but be wary: it wants to kidnap the present.

Sit with your fear, and listen.
Do you fear losing something?

Then beneath your fear is grief.
Grieve, then, as if all is already lost.

Grief, of course, is love made powerless.
Well, we were powerless to begin with.

Let your fear sink into grief and rise as love.
Bereft now of all but love, nothing else to lose,

you are not captive to your fear.
You carry it, like a costly treasure.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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Imagine a story about a recklessly extravagant man
who has lost two sons to two different shades of pride.
To each he goes out, forgives, welcomes, offers his wealth,
and invites them in to a party, because he is happy.

Imagine his joy withstanding their selfishness,
two sons who only speak of what they want from him,
who distance themselves from him and each other—
and still his joy overflows.

Imagine a God so prodigal with grace and blessing,
who loves us who have strayed
and us who think we’re more deserving,
and, free of our past, embraces us all, and is happy.

Imagine being a prodigal of God, extravagantly loving,
spreading it wantonly, forgiving the undeserving,
living in the present moment, totally free,
trusting God’s abundance, and full of joy.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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O Homeless Heart,
may mine be yours
till you are not.

O Love, O Leap of Joy,
may yours be mine
till it is everyone’s.

O Broken Heart,
break wide in me,
that I may be made whole.

O Sorrowing Soul,
whose tears are love,
your grieving is my hope.

O Meekest One,
whose only might is not your own,
your powerlessness be my strength.

O Crucified God,
your death be my birth,
your risen life my life.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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I am on my deathbed.
Here are gathered
my most beloved,
nine around me,
and behind them twenty more,
and beyond a million more,
a great circle of those to whom I belong.

As the great eye closes
they start to fade.
—But look! It is they who depart, not I!

I am here in my present moment,
in my belovedness forever.
But they are drifting off into mystery,
into unknown futures, hidden wonders,
unseen dangers, unimagined losses.
I worry for them.

I lean against the fading.
I push my way back.
I come to them alive and vibrant.

Now. I have this time, these hours
or decades,
to love them well,
to love them fully and fiercely
before they are taken from me.

My life is my deathbed,
and nothing but love my final act.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
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