How it looks

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

 

.

.

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You wake this morning
things look the same

but some kind of disturbance
behind you dark a thick net

an impossibility a trap sprung
now and harmless nothing so different

no drama but a not aloneness
a peace you can’t quite name

Things look the same but
what if this is how it looks

standing in the door of your tomb
looking out at the new life?

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.
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Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

A new spirit

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and 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. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Loving One has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, they are forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained.”
         — John 20.19-23

Jesus did not return from the dead to make a point, or evoke belief. He came back to give the disciples his spirit. He breathed on them (breath and spirit being the same word in Greek) just as God breathed life into the dust of the earth at Creation and made a living human. Filling them with the Holy Spirit, he created them anew. This is John’s version of Pentecost.

In the grief and shame of confronting our sin, we get the wind knocked out of us. In God’s forgiveness our old spirit of fear and anxiety is blown away. Our old, tangled lives are wiped out and we begin fresh. God breathes a new peace into us, the peace of knowing we are loved and forgiven and free, the blessing of being deeply at peace with ourselves and God and the world. God creates us anew, with a new spirit.

It is God’s one spirit, the same spirit with which Jesus lived. Jesus tells us it is the powerful spirit of forgiveness. In his wounds he shows us it is the willingness to suffer for the sake of love. His peace is not mere “peace of mind;” it is the confident, courageous serenity that enables us to bear love into a hurtful world. By it we may cross all kinds of barriers, as if walking through walls. It isn’t anything we have to muster up; it is a gift. He breathes it into us.

And he sends us forth. You are sent in the same was he was, the very same way. Breathe deeply of the love of Christ. It is powerful enough to overcome death. It is in you. How will you live?

Peace be with you.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

A prayer to St. Thomas

         “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

Thomas, by brother, my teacher, my friend,
lend me your faith,
         the gift of your searching,
         your hunger for Jesus alone:
the faithfulness to seek the Living One,
         not just something somebody told you;
the love to touch the Suffering One,
         not some cheap dime-store Jesus
         who had a bad weekend but now he’s fine,
         but who deeply suffered for you,
         who has seen the inside of your grave;
the courage to face the Despised one,
         your shadow,
         who has borne your guilty shame,
         and all of ours;
the humility to seek the Forgiving One,
         who has not simply forgotten or overlooked
         your darkest rottenness,
         but blesses you with hands you tortured.
Thomas, give me your faith,
         to seek the living, bleeding Christ,
         not one untouched, unhurt, thus unforgiving.

Thomas, my elder, my guide— lend me your faith,
the goading shoe-stone of questioning
         that does not settle easily,
         that always wants more of God,
         that waits;
the fiery honesty that burns away
         all pride and pretense,
         all faith that’s merely laziness.

Dear faithful Thomas,
         you who bear our blame for “doubting,”
         no more than we, yet wounded by our epithet,
you, too, like Christ, have suffered for our sins,
         and in your grace redeem us.
Gentle Thomas, speak kindly to Christ of me,
         for, like you, I am only seeking Christ,
         restless for the Crucified and Risen One.
Amen.

 

Easter Psalm

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

God of life made new, made new,
         raise me up this day.
Easter morning, dawn in me;
         loving Christ, live, new, in me.
Light of new Creation,
         spread throughout my soul.
Confident morning of hope and faith,
         be my new and only world.

All that would entomb my love,
         all fear and pain, all doubt and shame
you have undone with love,
         and rolled the stone;
the light of love floods in.
         I am set free.
God of love, surpass all possibility;
         love be my only power, my deepest trust,
my courage to hope, to gently bless
         in the face of all evil and death.

My grave is open, by your grace:
         it is open to receive, but cannot hold.
Awaken me, this new-created day,
         O God of love, of life.
O anxious soul, still wrapped in death,
         come out. Walk free. Walk free.

.
.
Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Holy Saturday

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

Wait in this day of three days’ dark,
         a sabbath from knowing,

this forty hours’ wilderness, waiting
         without knowing we are waiting,

still, since nothing new is possible,
         sure of all we know, yet in the dark.

In dark all mysteries unfold:
         seeds grow, stars gleam, the sun

gathers itself to rise, roots touch,
         hearts beat, and love is made.

And in the still, dense dark great love
         says “Let light be.” The light shines

in the darkness, yes, this dark.
         The stone begins to roll away,

the light to rise, that we can’t see
         but only know.

.

.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Victory

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
God is love; sin is denial of love:
denial of God’s love for us,
of our love for one another,
of love’s power over all other powers.
We deny the Lord, we say “I do not know you,”
when we substitute deserving or order,
efficiency or security for love.
Our denial of love can only lead us
to violence, to evil, to harm.
Ah, how we wound each other
trying to be Safe.

But in the face of our violence
the Gentle One comes to show us the way,
the way of love, the triumphant way of love.

His friends misunderstand him,
fail him, deny and betray him;
and he loves them,
and gives himself to them.

People accuse him and humiliate him,
assault and arrest him;
and he loves them, and heals them.

They judge him and condemn him,
attack him in a mob, beat him
and torture him to death;
and he loves them and forgives them.

He will not deny them love.
Nothing can overcome his love.
In the end their righteousness fails;
their evil and its power,
even death and its power
are swallowed up in his life-giving love.
This is resurrection.

He has already won the victory
and we are still fighting him.

We wrench ourselves away from God
and one another, but love still holds us anyway;
our rebellion comes to nothing.
Even our deepest evil is overcome,
and we are left helplessly, completely
and purely beloved.
In the end we are left with nothing at all
but love.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Jesus, remember me

         
         
         

Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom.

When you gather your Beloved into your Realm,
the disgraced and ashamed,
the twisted and helpless,
         remember me.

When you pronounce your law,
“Blessed are the poor,
for the Empire is theirs,”
         remember me.

When you raise up the brokenhearted,
forgive the guilty, heal the broken
and redeem those who struggle and fail,
         remember me.

When you spread your mercy over the land,
and your grace conquers all evil,
your love reigns supreme
and violence, even mine, is conquered,
         remember me.

When you take your throne of suffering,
and accept your blood-jeweled crown,
when you marshal your troops
armed with self-emptying love,
         remember me.

When I must choose
between love and comfort,
         remember me.

Jesus, remember me
when you come into your kingdom.

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Stay awake

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.

         
         “Father, forgive them;
         for they do not know what they are doing.”

                  — Luke 23.34

         When he got up from prayer,
         he came to the disciples and found them
         sleeping because of grief.

                  — Luke 22.45

         They will look on the one
         whom they have pierced.

                  — John 19.37

         While Peter was still speaking, the cock crowed.
         The Lord turned and looked at him.
         And he went out and wept bitterly.

                  — Luke 22.60, 62

His grief as deep as death,
he takes us to the garden
to be mindful of this world’s
sorrowful brutality,

and how he bears it,
but we will sleep the night
of prayer away, until
some harsh alarm awaken us.

We slumber, in the dark
and the shadow of death,
asleep in grief, eyes closed
in pious calm, dead to the world

and to our cruelty, the blood
we draw in his defense,
that all is his. We lie
apart from him a way, until

his broken heart becomes
our own, and cries to us,
disturbs our dreams, and then
we look and see, and in our grief

the blessed cock crows
and we awaken to a new day,
and rise, awake enough
to weep, and stay awake.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

Stay with me

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         

         In his anguish he prayed more earnestly,
         and his sweat became like great drops of blood
         falling down on the ground.

                  — Luke 22.44

When the weight of the world is great,
when you do not know how to pray,
your faith is weak and your heart
has no strength in its hands,
don’t trouble yourself with praying.

Come into the garden
with him who bears you
and all Creation in his compassion.
He simply needs you
to be there for him while he prays,
to be with him, as with anyone you love,
to pray for him, as for anyone you love.

Be still and stay with him.
Let him love the world.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

The chosen

Dearly Beloved,
Grace and Peace to you.
         
         
Gabriel sticks his trumpet under his arm, pushes up his bifocals. He calls, “Next flight!” We gather around. A little nervous excitement, like kids waiting for grades. A few rookies ask things like, “Who do you want to be this time?” But most of us know better than to ask. He pulls the cards out like a Bible, holds them out at arms’ length, then brings them back to reading range. “OK, here we go. Listen up. Female. Middle class parents. High intelligence, large family. Bad lungs—watch out for asthma. Gifts: discernment, faith, humor, music, humility. Possibly a musical career. Handles fame well, but, uh, looks like a good deal of loneliness. Life line, not great. Maybe sixty.” He looks up.

“I’ll be that one,” an angel says, who takes the card, and goes to the back of the crowd to peruse it, and while the next scene is unfolding, disappears in a pink blush of light.

Meanwhile Gabriel is on the to the next card. “Male, lower class farm family. Nice setting. Not too sure of yourself, but kindhearted, good eye-hand coordination. Deep father wound. Allergies. A life of labor, but not grudging. Gifts: teaching, kindness, an even keel. Extreme trauma in your 40’s. Inner coping resources look pretty thin. You’re going to have to work at this one. But you’ll make it. Seventy to eighty years.”

“I’ll do that,” one says, comes forward for the card, reads it. A blush of pink light, the smell of alfalfa.

Gabriel looks at the next card, clears his throat, pauses. It’s a dead giveaway when he does that. “Male. Working class parents—well, single mom. But she’s great. She’s great. Gifts: sensitivity, perseverance, uh, good storyteller, physical prowess.” (It’s another giveaway when he starts with the gifts.) Someone murmurs, “Orange jumpsuit.” We wait for the rest. “Um, fetal alcohol, bipolar, early abuse, a mean uncle—” He stops himself, reads the card silently for a moment. “Really mean.” He tries to run quickly through the rest of it but it slows him down: “Addictions, anger problems, low IQ, life of drugs and crime. Heinous torture murders. Multiple…. No remorse—it was beaten out of you at three. Nobody’s going to like you. Ever. Execution by hanging. Thirty-four years.” He’s silent, keeps his eyes on the cards.

This is the part I hate. It always goes this way. We look at our shoes, pretend to find something very wrong with our fingernails, preen our feathers. God, I hate this. The little guy in the back with something wrong with his hands and no wings — why doesn’t he have wings? — he says gently, as if greeting a friend, “That one’s mine. I’ll do him.” He calmly walks though the midst of us and holds out his hand like he’s beckoning some lovely little daughter, receives the card and holds it to his chest. He closes his eyes and smiles. “Truly, I tell you, today—“ — ffftt — but he is gone, in a pink blush of light, the smell of urine and alcohol, the sound of shouting.

I don’t know how he does it, but he never misses a single one of those.

Deep Blessings,
Pastor Steve

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

To subscribe to Unfolding Light by daily e-mail write to unfoldinglight8(at)hotmail.com

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