...but we will all be changed!

With Easter we celebrate Jesus’ resurrection. In the 40 days that followed, He turned up in their midst, then disappeared. Often enough that they got used to His new presence. Sometimes they didn’t recognize Him. He was still Jesus, but different—His body all changed even before He ascended into heaven.

In the fallen world of Today,[1] those who believe Jesus inhabit the “already/not yet” of rebirth. New creations, spiritually alive, indwelt with His Spirit, but in decaying, earth-bound bodies. Still bound to sin’s presence, still wooed by her siren song. However much we love Jesus, however real our experience of Him, we drag deadness around with us. It touches everything we do and are. No pure motives here. No untainted agendas, either.

The days following Easter manifest the mystery of a body to come--not just Jesus' resurrected body, but our own. Bodies that will no longer blunt our spirit with weariness and rebellion.

Our bodies are sacred, and Easter opens a window onto a mysterious but endless vista. The best part of us will cheat the grave. Our weary bones, heavy flesh, and addled brains already hold the seeds of that resurrection.

"I tell you a mystery: We will not all sleep, but we will all be changed--in a flash, in the twinkling of an eye, at the last trumpet. For the trumpet will sound, the dead will be rised imperishable and we will be changed." I Corinthians 15:51-52

[1] Heb 3:12-15

With gratitude to the writer of Sacred Space (www.sacredspace.ie)

Small acts of faithfulness in the throes of acedia

April 9th.
Got out of bed.

Read the daily reading. Prayed over it. Prayed for B, about whom I am confused and feel meaningless. Texted S about our promised coffee together, though I have no energy or desire for it.

Stretched and exercised a little. It made me feel nauseous. The feeling remains.

Took up again the Lenten fast I trashed yesterday.

Showered, washed my hair, and made the bed.

Nearly 11am already. I present myself for the writing assignment of the day.

Just a gnarly old bush...

Still with Moses and his bush.

I'm amazed how many varieties of bushes exist in the desert. Dry and hot, rocky or sandy, subject to blistering winds--a bush grows slowly. Most are ragged and twisted, and have a lot of dead stuff along with the living branches. Gnarly old things.

Moses encountered a bush all aflame, and yet not consumed. The "not consumed" part is what made it remarkable. That and the part about the voice of God....

The living bush was not consumed, but I wonder if the dead parts burned up and fell away?

But now, this is what the Lord says--

He who created you, O Jacob, He who formed you, O Israel:

"Fear not, for I have redeemed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze."

Isaiah 43:1-2

What distinguishes us?

"If your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here. How will anyone know that You are pleased with me and with Your people unless You go with us? What else will distinguish me and Your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?"

Moses, in Exodus 33:15-16

Exodus 3

An ordinary desert bush.
But within, a flame alive with the Energy of the Universe,
yet not consuming the fragile bush.
Holy ground—so please, take off your shoes.

An ordinary city home.
But within, a Spirit alive--the Energy of the Universe--
yet not consuming the fragile hosts.
Holy ground—so please, take off your shoes.