Breath

          The doors were locked.
           Jesus came and stood among them
                and said, “Peace be with you….
                As God has sent me, so I send you.”
          When he had said this, he breathed on them
                and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”

                       —John 20.19-22

What you have lost is replaced
by the weight of sorrow.
It sits in you like a boulder.
The terror of the regime’s violence
has left its claws in you,
the fear you can be taken,
the clarity of what it can cost
to proclaim what he proclaimed.
Of course your doors are locked.
You don’t want to talk about it,
except when it’s all you can talk about.

But suddenly here he is.
God’s astounding “And yet.”
All he is—his love, his tenderness,
his mercy, his very being—unkilled
by the State, by fear, even by death.
His “Peace” is no mere greeting:
it is the healing of your grief,
the forgiveness of your guilt,
the breath of your salvation.

He breathes himself into you,
his deep peace even in the face of evil,
the power of love, the courage and energy
that sends you out into a hurting world
like wind nothing can stop,
to fearlessly embody the resurrection
that so frightens those in power.
You are embraced. You are transformed.
You are inhabited. You are sent.
Now every breath you take
is his.

______________
Weather Report


Windy,
blowing from within,
rising throughout the day,
Expect even those weighed down
to be carried away.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

The prayer of Thomas

Beloved,
I reach out for you.
I want to touch you,
to know your living presence.
I want to feel the flesh of your grace,
that the nails I helped pound have not held you,
that still you love, that you forgive and bless.
I want to touch your wounds,
your willingness to share our suffering,
your brokenness for the evils of the world
because you love us so deeply.
Give me the courage to see you
in the wounded of this world,
to see the wounds I have caused,
the evil I have cooperated with,
the ways I have abandoned you,
and to know your forgiveness.
I want to know
that out of your wounds flows love.

Beloved, every moment,
even when I am forgetting,
I am reaching for you.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

The gardener

He has lived long on his knees,
spent time among the lilies and the sparrows,
sowed seeds—many given over
to birds or weeds—
has bled from thorns,
and labored under the sun’s yoke of light.
He’s watched seeds fall, be buried,
and cease to be what they were,
become something glorious—
the blade, the ear, the grain.
He’s laid his hands, dirt-dyed,
on earth’s small wounds
and healed them with growth.
(He wipes his face
and leaves a smudge upon his brow.)
He has worked with struggling trees
and gifted them with the detritus of death
so they bore fruit.
A gentle, generous soul,
it seems he’s laid himself in earth
so many times that everything around him grows.
So deeply one with all of life,
he’s hard to single out,
even in this new dawn’s light,
fresh risen from the dead.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

Christ is risen

Christ is risen!
          This makes no sense. Only joy.

Christ is risen!
         There is no explanation. Only wonder.

Christ is risen!
         Don’t try to understand.
         Only be grateful.

Christ is risen!
         Some say it’s just a story.
         Let it be your story.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

Joseph of Arimethea

My Beloved,
I carry your body— how can this be?
           … what I can’t put together…
broken,            shattered,
                                            you and I both….

I climbed up, not far,
           yet            such unscalable height

to unfasten you,            break you loose—
           now so loose, so far           from us….

I carry your body— how can this be,
           you who have carried me?

your arms limp, your hands, your healing hands
           empty           of power, of grace

in death they touch me without blessing
           yet I am blessed

I try to drape your           hand           over my shoulder
           is it fantasy, selfish?           or just grief

I wrap you in death’s shrouds I wrap you in my
sorrow I want to wrap up these last days and throw
them away I want to wrap myself with you
           I would wrap you in           myself

oh, if I could only bury you in me
                      or me           in you

I place you in my grave           A stone
           is rolled in place
                      some day           I will join you

Now, Beloved,           I join you

Oh, Jesus

Oh, Jesus, what have you done?
Carried my burdens, every one,
All of my sorrow, all of my sin,
Like a mother gathering her children in.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your tender, tender love.

Oh, Jesus, what have I done?
Crucified my precious one.
I didn’t want to bear the pain or loss,
So I left you alone to carry the cross.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your sufferin’, sufferin’ love.

Oh, Jesus, what will you do?
Forgive me like you always do.
With not a word of wrath or blame,
You died with love gently sayin’ my name.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your precious, precious love.

Oh, Jesus, what will I do?
Give me the courage to follow you,
To give my love if I live or die,
And never again to crucify.
    Now I’m left with nothin’ at all but love,
    Nothin’ but your dyin’, dyin’ love.

Here’s the sheet music.

Listen to the song:

Nobody crucified Jesus

Religious leaders accused,
culture made excuses,
politicians gave orders,
people in the streets went along,
friends left him to the system,
and the army pounded nails.
Who do you blame for that?

We live in a cross-shaped world
that believes in the expedience
of other people’s pain.
The most injurious to God
are those with good reasons.

Even the most powerful
have only the power someone gave them.
What evil have I helped to empower?
What part of me helped create this evil?
Am I ready for it to be healed?

Just as we found ways, working together,
to do evil,
it will take a lot of us working together
to do good.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

Simon of Cyrene

          As they went out,
          they came upon a man from Cyrene named Simon;
          they compelled this man to carry his cross.

                       —Matthew 27.32


Let me be Simon of Cyrene,
and carry your cross,
and embrace my death.
Draw me to bear the weight of it,
to walk with you in your suffering,
not a spectator but a companion
yoked with you under the cross.
Jesus, let me come into your life:
your miracles, your suffering,
your prayer, your death,
your rising.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

I do not know

Jesus, arrested, remains calm.
But I panic.
Jesus, I wonder at your strength.
How do you do that?
I marvel at the love
with which you treat even your captors.
Who are you?
I doubt that I can actually follow you.
I am not that loving, that committed.
I haven’t paid enough attention.
I’ve hardly learned a thing you’ve taught me.
I try to be so forgiving, but—no.
I don’t know how you do it.
I don’t deserve your friendship.
I can’t claim to be close enough to you.
I’m not worthy to be called your follower.
Go away from me, I am a sinful man.
Who is this who so deeply astounds me?
I don’t know the first thing about him.
I don’t even know who he is.
I do not know the man!

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

My body, my blood

On the eve of a boldly political action,
an act of nonviolent resistance,
in a boldly political religious ceremony,
the Passover celebration of liberation,
a family meal and a public act
that defy power structures,
intensely political—
Jesus does something profoundly personal:
he offers himself.
He doesn’t say “This is my rallying cry!”
or “This is my belief.”
He says, “This is my body and my blood.”
In the place of honor, dipping bread together,
he welcomes the one who will betray him.
Because only something this personal
will overcome the world.

Only love, and nothing outside the human heart,
will defeat evil.

Our political actions require personal presence.
Our personal acts have political power.

Our salvation is not ransom paid
but presence offered.

__________________
Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
www.unfoldinglight.net
Listen to the audio recording:

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