Category: Reflections

Even as the golden dust of the resurrection falls,
settling on our shoes like heaven’s pollen,
as we look up at angels receding,
as the exuberant news echoes in our hearts,
even now, stepping into new lives
of joy and gratitude,

our hearts are broken,
we lament… we are silent… we scream.
Injustice continues its hungry rounds,
death is granted permission to hunt on our grounds.
Another shot rings out.

We cry out. How long, O Lord?

But we don’t cry alone.
The song rises—the sorrowful, courageous song,
the hymn of gentle defiance,
still flows through the throats of the faithful.
This,
this wounded garden, this is the very place of resurrection.
We who have died and been raised are not afraid
to cry out, to be silent, to listen, to act, to sing.
We will do justice, and love kindness, and walk humbly with God.
We will no longer be afraid
to do justice, to love kindness, to walk humbly with God.
Even in the lingering darkness we are not afraid.
For Christ is rising. Christ is rising indeed.

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

April 13, 2021

Dear oak,
your twig tips swell and soon
will give us leaves, sweet green.
You’ll sprout then wave them patiently,
and drop them in the fall,
as you have, I’m guessing by your girth,
a couple hundred times or more.
You never tire of this,
never tire of losing and greening,
never tire of being an oak.
The day will come when you drop them
and lift them up no more,
but being an oak, that will likely be
long after I have done the same.
Meanwhile I pray
not that you endure, nor I,
but that as long as I do
I never tire of this.

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

April 12, 2021

         Jesus said to them again, “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 20.21-22

God took the dust up from the ground
and breathed into it
and it became a living being.

The Risen One breathes into you
the breath of heaven;
you become a risen being.

One Spirit, one breath,
one breathing.
Jesus is your lungs.

You are sent, breathed into the world,
spoken in love, sung out in beauty,
Word made flesh.

Every breath you are reborn,
we are all re-breathed,
Christ is risen.

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

April 9, 2021

Dearly Beloved,
         Though the doors of the house where the disciples had met
         were locked for fear of the people,
         Jesus came and stood among them and said,
         “Peace be with you.”
         After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side.
                            —John 20.19-20

The Damaged One emerges from trauma
         with peace.

His wounds, his brokenness, evidence
         of what such peace endures.

Through doors of pain, walls of despair,
         he comes with peace.

Yours, beloved,
         he comes through.

Gavestone, locked door, unbelief
         do not keep him from you.

The wounds still gape. The room is fraught—
         but he is not.

Now and yet to come, he’s here.
         Now your pain can breathe.

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

April 8, 2021

    “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands,
         and put my finger in the mark of the nails
         and my hand in his side,
         I will not believe.”
                            —John 20.25

You who are so sure,
go easy on Thomas.

He is the one looking but
not catching your eye on the sidewalk,

the one at the back
with the unasked question,

those with everything on their back,
or maybe just in their memory

that they can’t leave, not speaking
of what’s behind them,

still shaking, with every reason
not to but still looking—

and don’t pretend he isn’t there, too,
the little voice inside you—

not easily convinced, but still
looking

for a sign
of hope.

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

April 7, 2021

When the light breaks in
at the break of dawn
things get broken.

My fear is shattered, anxiety demolished.
Death and suffering, those fine excuses,
stolen right out from under me.

A hard, crusty way of living, on the defense,
trying to stay one step ahead of loss,
all messed up now.

Into the shadows and their blind alleys
you come with your light, splitting the darkness
wide open.

You rise up out of the grave—sometimes
sneaky slowly, sometimes lurching—
and haul me out, like it or not,

robbed of old ways, that life
we have to leave behind, that safe, familiar life,
into this new, wild, free, scary one.

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

April 6, 2021

Miracle! Mystery!
What was paralyzed in me dances!
What was ashamed in me rejoices!

You who are grace itself,
from the chaos of No
you speak your clear Yes.

Under the weight of impossibility,
despite all our explanations,
you rise.

In the thickest un-creation,
in the deepest darkness
you command light.

In failure and emptiness,
in utter rot and decay,
you thrive.

How do you
turn dying into living,
melt evil into mercy?

By your grace
the grave empties itself
into you.

Christ is risen
hand in hand with me
and I am hauled into your glory.
Alleluia!

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

April 5, 2021

Alleluia!
The Resurrected One
was crucified,
but sure enough—he stayed resurrected!
He has risen from the dead.
This is the first day of Creation.
Alleluia!

Dearly beloved,
may the risen Christ light your way.
May the Seed that has died and borne fruit
raise you to new life.
May the love of God that cannot be vanquished
give you beauty and compassion.
May the life that cannot be taken from you
give you courage and joy.
May the mystery of Easter
bless you, guide you
and strengthen you, now and always.

Alleluia!

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

April 4, 2021

         He poured out himself to death.
                   —Isaiah 53.12

Before the rising green
the dark soil.
Still and black,
worked soil, fertile ground,
rife with loss and labor,
ground that’s wept and groaned,
and bled and given up.
Only love that’s given all,
and lost and lain in death
for long
may rise.

(O Mystery, that you, Beloved,
would deny yourself,
deny yourself,
and pour yourself out to death!)

In blackest dark,
in bleakest death,
the seed is planted.

And silent, waits. 

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

April 3, 2021

         He was despised and rejected by others;
                  a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity.
         Surely he has borne our infirmities
                  and carried our diseases.
                                     —Isaiah 53.3-4

In the bull’s eye of our injustice,
the bleeding wound of our violence,
you bear it.
At the heart of our horror,
the seat of our rage,
in the dark hole of our loneliness,
you bear it all.
In our isolation, our throatless silence,
our pandemic wail, our shamed cry,
our murderous righteousness,
Beloved, you bear it.
Despised, you love us.

                  How can we but die,

                                    and wait to be raised?

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

April 2, 2021