sermonoats

Sunday, July 20, 2025

balance

Are you a Mary or a Martha?

Yes or no?

Suddenly I found myself being addressed in song, by the soprano singing the aria right in my ear. I looked up, cast aside my phone and gave her my attention. I did not sing the tenor’s response. But I did look, listen, and pay attention. So if you want an image of that moment you will have to listen to me. There is nothing on my phone to capture, share, or post it.

What would it have been like if both sisters had missed the moment, that moment when the son of God, the source of all being, the one in whom and through whom all things are made and all redeemed, was in their home, at their table. Right there.

Martha was still trapped in ordinary time. Mary was transforming into a disciple. Sitting at the feet of the rabbi like a rapt pupil she was becoming a teacher herself. An apostle, a messenger, a bearer of the word.

Am I a Mary or a Martha? Yes and no. Sometimes, there is work to be done.

Sometimes, there he is, right in front of me, with something to teach me.

Can I hear it? Am I paying attention, ready? If the Messiah comes to dinner tonight, how will I treat him? As an extra guest, at a place at the table set aside for a stranger, or the center of the celebration? The one who in fact feeds us.

Amos talks about a day of hunger, a day of famine, that is not a day without bread, but a day without hearing the Lord’s word, the word of life. The feast of the Word is on the table before us, today, as it was for Mary and Martha.

Whatever our righteous occupations are, there comes a moment when we need to see what is really before us, to hear the word of life, and to take in our true sustenance.

************

Am I saying that a Madrid opera singer was the Christ? No, but I am saying that you can see in the moment the image of God in the stranger and in the strangest moments if you are ready for them

It may be that to meet Christ in the present moment will involve someone greeting you or you helping someone unexpectedly.

Or it may be greeting each other in peace, and recognizing in each other, the image of God in which you are both made,

And also enjoying and receiving and acknowledging the presence of God in communion with each other, in the sharing of the communion bread and the communion wine.

Have you seen Jesus my Lord? And were you paying attention?

None of this is to imply that we should all become contemplatives, or all activists. Indeed one of the most famous monks of the twentieth century, a member of an intensely contemplative order, was also a well-known activist, although his work with other activists tended to take place in writing or in meetings.

And a well-known activist, indeed more than one, was deeply contemplative. I was thinking of Thomas Merton and Daniel Berrigan. Who are you thinking of?

Indeed that is what the Benedictine way, the way of balance, is all about: ora et labora, work and prayer. Daily sustenance, maintenance, fixing the plumbing, doing the dishes, yes, and, yes, singing praise to God and becoming lost in wonder.

Indeed we do not need to choose between two routes or poles in our spiritual and religious life. We may find ourselves oscillating between them, or favoring the wrong approach at the right time. It is easy to hide from action in false contemplative behavior, as easy as it is to hide in action when we need to sit ourselves down and listen to what the Lord is saying.

Will l listen to what the Lord is saying? The psalmist invites us to join the song:

Psalm 85.8-13

8 I will listen to what the LORD God is saying, *

for he is speaking peace to his faithful people

and to those who turn their hearts to him.

10 Mercy and truth have met together; *

righteousness and peace have kissed each other.

11 Truth shall spring up from the earth, *

and righteousness shall look down from heaven.

These are words of comfort. Much more than the psalm appointed for today. Today the psalm appointed as a response to the words of the prophet Amos is a denunciation of wrongdoing and a contrasting call to truth, and to trust where trust belongs, and to thanksgiving and praise.

Psalm 52

Why, O man of power, do you boast all the day long :

of mischief done to him that is faithful to God?

You have loved evil, and not good :

to tell lies, rather than to speak the truth.

But God will destroy you utterly :

he will snatch you away and pluck you out of your dwelling,

he will uproot you from the land of the living.

As for me, I am like a green olive tree in the house of God :

I will trust in the goodness of God for ever and ever.

I will always give you thanks, for this was your doing :

I will glorify your name before the faithful,

for it is good to praise you.

Those first verses are pretty harsh, denouncing wrong behavior and slanderous words. The psalm is comparing the proud tyrant who trusts in wealth and wickedness to a wayward plant. In the garden of God there are upstarts that he will uproot like so many weeds. And then there are those like green trees, verdant and robust, who listen to what the Lord is saying and do what he commands.

Listen and do. Both contemplate and act. Sit at the feet of Jesus and learn. And when the time is right, speak out, do justice, love mercy, and always, always, walk humbly with our God.

O God, heavenly Father, your Son Jesus Christ enjoyed rest and refreshment in the home of Mary and Martha of Bethany: Give us the will to love you, open our hearts to hear you, and strengthen our hands to serve you in others for his sake; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

(Collect for the Feast of Mary and Martha of Bethany.)

July 20th 2025, Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 11 Year C

Amos 8:1-12, Psalm 52, Colossians 1:15-28, Luke 10:38-42

Are you a Mary or a Martha?

Yes or no?

A night in Madrid, two years ago: before the rain we made our way into a restaurant with singing waiters, opera-singing waiters. We were all crowded into a large room where they served the meal and also sang to us. We listened as we sat at our tables. Or in my case, as I tried to capture in a photo the scene before me, to the point where I was so distracted from what was happening around me that suddenly I found myself being addressed in song, by the soprano singing the aria right in my ear. I looked up, cast aside my phone and gave her my attention. I did not sing the tenor’s response. But I did look, listen, and pay attention. So if you want an image of that moment you will have to listen to me. There is nothing on my phone to capture, share, or post it.

What would it have been like if both sisters had missed that moment, that moment when the son of God, the source of all being, the one in whom and through whom all things are made and all redeemed, was in their home, at their table. Right there.

Martha was still trapped in ordinary time. Mary was transforming into a disciple. Sitting at the feet of the rabbi she was becoming a teacher herself. An apostle, a messenger, a bearer of the word.

Am I a Mary or a Martha? Yes and no. Sometimes, there is work to be done.

Sometimes, there he is, right in front of me, with something to teach me.

Amos talks about a day of hunger, a day of famine, that is not a day without bread, but a day without hearing the Lord’s word, the word of life. That is the table set before us, today, as it was for Mary and Martha.

Whatever our righteous occupations are, there comes a moment when we need to see what is really before us, to hear the word of life, and to take in our true sustenance.

Sunday, May 11, 2025

Oh, good shepherd

No one can snatch them out of my hand.

“Can anything separate us from the love of Christ? Can trouble, pain or persecution? Can lack of clothes and food, danger to life and limb, the threat of force of arms? Indeed some of us know the truth of the ancient text: ‘For your sake we are killed all day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter’. No, in all these things we win an overwhelming victory through him who has proved his love for us.” Romans 8:35-37

When a group of clergy went to Israel in January 2015, our plane from Newark landed at Ben Gurion airport near Lod (Lydda) and 12 days later when we left the holy land we stopped at a beach at Jaffa (Joppa). Maps tell me they are 20 km apart, ten to twelve miles, four and a half hours on foot. When Peter traveled from Lod to Joppa, that is the journey he made. Centuries later, we would visit both places, now transformed.

In between those two end stops of our pilgrimage, we went to Bethlehem — to La Crèche de Bethléem— a ministry of some French speaking nuns, but the sister who spoke with us was not French. She was from Lod. Her village used to be where the airport is now.

Now she takes care of Palestinian teenage mothers and their children. It’s not safe to be a single mother in a Palestinian traditional village. Shame attaches to you and danger.

So these nuns quietly bring the pregnant girls to their facility in Bethlehem, where they take care of them until they give birth, and then raise the children until they reach an age at which they can go to a residential school. But the kids, when they grow up, do not forget the first mothers they knew— the nuns of Bethlehem.

In French, interpreted by the dean of Montreal Cathedral, the nun told us a story of one 18 year-old who returned to visit with his first paycheck, which he proudly signed over to them— his entire first paycheck check— then, being a kid, their kid, he asked for bus fare for a ride home.

Many examples of works of mercy, and acts of charity, can be found among the church today. And Christians are noted, now as in the first century, for their love for one another, and for their undiscriminating care for people regardless of their faith confession.

In the bombed out ruins of what were once hospitals medical workers still care for patients, as at Al Ahli Arab Hospital in Gaza, a ministry of the Episcopal Diocese of Jerusalem – “that provides care to all in need, regardless of religion, political affiliation, or ability to pay.”

In border areas volunteers provide hospitality for total strangers, as at Casa de la Misericordia y de Todas las Naciones and Kino Border Initiative in Nogales.

Christians from the early years of the Gospel recognized Christ in all comers, recognized the face of God in each human person, and served all. Many serve in ministries outside church walls. Others, like Dorcas in Lydda, have clothed the needy inside them. It is probable that the women who mourned at her deathbed were wearing the very garments Tabitha herself had made for them.

In his commentary on the gospel of John, the missionary bishop Lesslie Newbigin reminds us we are called for a purpose: as disciples we are called to witness to the light, to new life and love in Christ.

Dorcas and the community at Joppa remind us we are all called to witness to the resurrection. And to what it means. In Jesus is life. And this life is the light of all.

Peter was in Lydda, inland but not far away, and he responded immediately to the need, when two men came to him, telling him that the beloved disciple Dorcas (Tabitha) had become ill and died.

Dorcas herself was known for her works of mercy, good works and acts of charity – and for the clothing she had made. The community was so tight knit around her that the widows who were weeping brought with them and showed to the apostle tunics and other clothing that when she was with them Dorcas had made. One of our own was Dorcas, and the loss was hard.

The story of Dorcas - Tabitha - echoes the words Jesus spoke - ‘talitha cum’ - little girl, arise - when he raised a girl, fourteen years old, from her deathbed.

And echoes what Jesus said when he had come to the tomb of his friend: “Lazarus, come out!”

Here in the endearing and detailed story of Dorcas we hear all the details of the mourning, and of the miracle. He prayed, called her – “Tabitha, arise” – and she sat up.

Besides these several parallel stories, there is also Peter’s response. This is the man who at the beginning of his ministry – and Jesus’ - saw Jesus heal his mother-in-law. And now another woman of merit is ill: he responds immediately.

We are called for a purpose: to witness, to the miracle of Jesus, of resurrection, of him and through him. All these stories, new and old, point to the lordship of Christ over all of life.

We are called for a purpose, not a status: we have no laurels to rest upon, only hands to serve. Become what you are, what you are called to be: it can happen, it has happened, in Christ.

In the Temple they challenged Jesus: If you are the Messiah, show us plainly.

And he had, by his works of mercy. And he did, even more so and again, in the works of his disciples, like Peter, and like Dorcas. For Dorcas in her works of love made a witness of love, and the community of love that gathered around her continued that witness.

In showing that love Dorcas - and the disciples who mourned her - revealed the love of Christ that animated them.

That same loving God who restored her to life is the God shown in the self-giving love of the Son, and the love of the members of his community one for another.

To show us plainly that in Christ the Love of God came to earth, Christians obey his new commandment, to love one another as he has loved us: “Just as I have loved you, so you must love one another. This is how everyone will know that you are my disciples, because you have such love for one another.” John 13:34-35

For this fourth Sunday of Easter season I am particularly glad to sing Hymn 645 ‘The King of love my shepherd is’ – for we like sheep oft have gone astray, and oft return, called back to our true path, by the voice of a loving savior. That voice can also be stern. But the rod and staff that the owner of that voice wield are wielded on our behalf.

As the Apostle Paul wrote: “ I have become absolutely convinced that neither death nor life, neither messenger of Heaven nor monarch of earth, neither what happens today nor what may happen tomorrow, neither a power from on high nor a power from below, nor anything else in God’s whole world has any power to separate us from the love of God in Jesus Christ our Lord!” Romans 8:38-39

The 23rd Psalm (Dedicated To My Mother) Bobby McFerrin

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bJixdpZ5m1o

Oh, good shepherd, feed my sheep... (https://youtu.be/6JfvuEJSKEU)

Fourth Sunday of Easter

Sunday 11 May 2025

https://sermonoats.blogspot.com/search/label/Good%20Shepherd

Acts 9:36-43

Now there was at Joppa a certain disciple named Tabitha, which by interpretation is called Dorcas: this woman was full of good works and almsdeeds which she did.
And it came to pass in those days, that she was sick, and died: whom when they had washed, they laid her in an upper chamber.
And forasmuch as Lydda was nigh to Joppa, and the disciples had heard that Peter was there, they sent unto him two men, desiring him that he would not delay to come to them.
Then Peter arose and went with them. When he was come, they brought him into the upper chamber: and all the widows stood by him weeping, and shewing the coats and garments which Dorcas made, while she was with them.
But Peter put them all forth, and kneeled down, and prayed; and turning him to the body said, Tabitha, arise. And she opened her eyes: and when she saw Peter, she sat up.
And he gave her his hand, and lifted her up, and when he had called the saints and widows, presented her alive.
And it was known throughout all Joppa; and many believed in the Lord.
And it came to pass, that he tarried many days in Joppa with one Simon a tanner.

Psalm 23

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.
He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.
Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever.

Revelation 7:9-17

After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands;
And cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb.
And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God,
Saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen.
And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and whence came they?
And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.
Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them.
They shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat.
For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of waters: and God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes.

John 10:22-30

And it was at Jerusalem the feast of the dedication, and it was winter.
And Jesus walked in the temple in Solomon’s porch.
Then came the Jews round about him, and said unto him, How long dost thou make us to doubt? If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly.
Jesus answered them, I told you, and ye believed not: the works that I do in my Father’s name, they bear witness of me.
But ye believe not, because ye are not of my sheep, as I said unto you.
My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me:
And I give unto them eternal life; and they shall never perish, neither shall any man pluck them out of my hand.
My Father, which gave them me, is greater than all; and no man is able to pluck them out of my Father’s hand.
I and my Father are one.

Saturday, April 26, 2025

touch and taste, see and believe

We gathered in a house with the doors fearfully locked. A knock may sound, but there is silence. Jesus appears among us, but we do not recognize him until he shows us his wounds, evidence of his death. He greets us “Peace be with you” - shalom aleichem, as-salaam alaikum.

He breathes on us! saying “receive holy breath” - Holy Spirit - and empowers us as with the keys of the kingdom, keys to unlock others from fear and sin. “Any you forgive, are forgiven; any you do not - their sins are retained.”

And then we try to bring Thomas the Twin into the circle though he is not here with us that first hard day’s night.

A week later we are gathered again when Jesus again appears among us. Thomas is with us this time. He had demanded to see and touch, to have the physical connection, the physical experience, that would allay all doubt. He could testify if he had that direct contact.

Now he has the opportunity. See me, touch me. The offer was enough, and more than enough: his confession surpassed all others to this date.

Not only teacher, rabbi, messiah; now Lord, κυριος, kurios, and θεος, theos, God.

χριστος κυριος, Christ is Lord. That could get you killed, in those days. To deny Caesar the highest authority: there was danger there, and redemption.

Have we seen Jesus our Lord? Have we touched and tasted him, in the real presence at the Table? Have we touched him, embraced him, as John the Evangelist did, in the Peace? Have we touched and been touched by him, in the laying on of hands for healing - or ordination?

Have we confessed, as Thomas did, astonished at Christ's presence? Are we among those who have not seen and yet come to belief?

That peace that Jesus gives, we give to others. We receive Jesus under the cover of bread and wine, and we receive him in the greeting of a stranger.

Remember Emmaus, the Emmaus road, and the stranger, who greeted travelers who knew him only in the breaking of the bread: he was no ghost, no walking corpse, not the ‘grateful dead’ of Egyptian myth, but a living and powerful presence.

We all here as we gather at the Table, as the disciples gathered in that room in the house with the locked doors, may like them be fearful, uncertain of our security. And find like them that the security is from the intruder already in their midst, the divine intruder who is also truly human.

See my hands, touch my side. Embrace my people, know them or not. Find solace, comfort, and not only those:

Our Lord and Our God: Open our eyes to see your hand at work in the world about us. Deliver us from the presumption of coming to this Table for solace only, and not for strength; for pardon only, and not for renewal. Let the grace of this Holy Communion make us one body, one spirit in Christ, that we may worthily serve the world in his name.

Risen Lord, be known to us

in the breaking of the Bread.

And in the touch and taste

our fragile bodies convey your grace.

These fragile bodies of touch and taste… [https://cockburnproject.net/songs&music/liadt.html]

Tuesday, April 22, 2025

messages

While you were out
The messiah rose from the dead
And he wants to talk to you
And he has a message for you
To take
Far and far away
Into every human heart
You can reach

A few years ago I met a man in San Francisco who wore clerical garb of unusual hues: I was told he was a bishop of the Mar Thoma church from Kerala south India 🇮🇳 founded by the same Thomas who was known for his doubts — and his certainty. His explosive confession “my Lord and my God” was an early bombshell set off in the playground of first century religion. There was no room for idle speculation. You couldn’t hide anymore. You didn’t need proof. He was real. Loving you; showing you the proof you no longer needed. And so, Thomas, you knelt to the truth.

In recent weeks I have been thinking about the toll of war and civil strife. With others I have listened to the Rev. Dr. Gary Mason of Rethinking Conflict, the peace-making consultancy built around personal experiences in Northern Ireland.

And less directly, several lectures, videos, and even songs, about the separation of East and West, especially in Germany, after the second world war, the building of the Berlin Wall and its eventual and hand-hastened collapse. Can the forces of violence be overcome by hope?

The Wind of Change, a song by the Skorpions performed on Potsdamer Platz in central Berlin a year and a week after the fall of the Berlin Wall, sung to that hope. [https://youtu.be/XjFsZj1aHow]

The arc of justice bends very slowly but still we hope if we all lean on it and hang on we can together feel it shift.

https://www.rethinkingconflict.com/

https://www.cartercenter.org/peace/democracy/index.html

https://arizonadrn.org/

Thursday, April 10, 2025

trust

TRUST

What can you trust? Who can you trust?

In uncertain times, which we are certainly in now, questions come up, and trust is at stake. Who can you trust? What can you trust? The editor of one of my favorite regional magazines asked recently, what are you reading? And he said he had switched from national newsfeeds and blogs to more local, on-the-ground sources of information. I am not advocating this particular strategy: indeed, I find that international sources are equally important for getting a balanced view of the world. It does raise the question of trust. As do recent panicky accounts of stock markets and trade wars. Should I buy? Should we sell? Should I sit tight? What is going on?
What is going on - in a deeper sense - not simply what is happening now, in this moment, with its momentary passions and worries, is something we as Christian believers must consider.
As must be our response, to uncertain conditions, turbulent times, faithless politicians, and the anxiety bred by a lack of trust.
Robert Bellah, a sociologist, and, by the way, member of an Episcopal church in Berkeley, said that, “Our greatest contribution to the world is, by God’s grace, to try to be who, as Christians, we are.” And he asked Americans, in a survey research project conducted with colleagues, “How do you determine what is good, how do you determine what is right, in your daily life?”
The results of that qualitative research project are reported in the book “Habits of the Heart.”
The questions of the immediate moment, what should I do now, what should I do today, what will alleviate my anxiety - or that of my fellows, where will I go to find trust, and trustworthy companions? These questions do lead us into deeper inquiry: on what is trust to be founded? What is the basis, the foundation, on which trust, and faithfulness, can be solidly built: I would submit to you that the old hymns may be right: On Christ the solid rock I stand, all other ground is sinking sand. [On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand, Song by The Graham Family Band ‧ 2014]
Or, if you do not have the Lord to guide you…
Or, My hope is built on nothing less/Than Jesus Christ, my righteousness (Edward Mote (1797-1874)
In other words, we enjoy a certainty beyond the fluctuations of the stock market or the flutterings of our hearts, or the passions of the moment, in the sure and certain knowledge of salvation, salvation not just of ourselves but of all people, all creatures, all creation. Some of us, notably humans, need it more than others. I have less sense that rocks and stars need saving from themselves. We certainly do, at times.
I think of the solid and faithful work of Samaritans and others, including border police on both sides of the wall, who look after desperate people crawling under a wall or sheltering under a desert bush, seeking, after a while, nothing more than life. Nothing less. Than life.
For them the political and moral questions have faded away. First, food, shelter, safety. Then they may find themselves in custody, shipped to a place they have never known, or know all too well, but for now, life. Life is at stake. That is what it means to be in an existential moment.
You might say, and many argue, without panic, that this is an existential moment for our way of life, our way of being with one another. Democracy, yes, but more deeply, compassion. Justice, and the rule of law, we seek with our fellow human beings. We do not agree all together on how to find what we seek, but we know, certainly as worshipping human beings, on that goal at least.
How do you determine what is good, how do you determine what is right, in your daily life?
***
Our greatest contribution to the world is, by God's grace, to try to be who, as Christians, we are. -- Robert Bellah
Link to YouTube recording of Robert N. Bellah Lecture by Marian Budde
https://www.youtube.com/live/HsynDr_thrU

Sunday, March 30, 2025

Three Men

Have you ever felt like this? Far from home, far from your self, your true self, far from what you really know your life was meant to be? Maybe you took what you could get and went and blew it - riotous living, bad investment, stupid life choices - but here you are now, at the far end of your senses, and you come to yourself, that is, you come to realize, this is not me, this is not what is meant for me, I may be no better than this but this is not it. The people who know me, really know me, would not recognize me like this. But I need them. I’m going home!

And so you rehearse, all the bad things you have done, all the mistakes, the regrets, all the promises to change, to reform, to just give up and throw yourself on the mercy of the court of inner opinion. Maybe there is somebody you can go to. Maybe you say, “I want to get sober” or “I have made a big mistake” or “I blew it, didn’t I?” I know it, you know it, but now I am admitting it. And I want to come back to a true sense of myself, and of you.

Is this a cry for pity? In the younger son’s story, it doesn’t work. The father does not take him back on the terms he suggests, a disgraced former offspring now fit only to be a hired hand.

But the father does not take the deal. Instead, he welcomes, runs to welcome, the son who was lost and now is found. The child who had strayed, who knows how far, is now returned. Back. From wherever. And that’s it. He’s home. That is what matters.

What matters more, more than forgiveness, repentance, turning around, turning home, is the generosity, the unquestioning welcome, the forgiveness without solicitation or merit, the uncreated gift of the father’s love.

So, Lent. Chocolate? Coffee? Red meat? Movies? Relentless television? Newsfeeds 24/7? Is it about what you give up? Or is it about what you receive? Without merit, without limit. The father’s love precedes any repentance, it is indeed unmerited grace. And it is waiting for us, all the time.

Have you ever felt like that? Worked hard for no reward, no recognition. Just toil. Where did that younger brother get to anyway? At least I get two-thirds of the inheritance (check Deuteronomy 21:17) since I am the firstborn - not that playboy. That waster. To be kind, I saw this coming. From the day he said, give me my inheritance - now: I cannot wait until you are dead, Father. Let’s pretend you already are - dead to me, at least as far as the money goes. And the money went. I have just had it with him.

So now I pick up the pieces. We make do with what is left, Father and I. For I am the good son. The eldest. I hold it all together. I won’t let it get out of hand - again. But no, look, here he comes. Back. And what does he want now?

Have you ever been that boiled in resentment? Felt its heat from far away? No wonder the boy was hesitant, coming home. There is no indication that the younger had thought of the older, just of coming home to his father.

Have you ever felt that deserving, or that underserved, that unappreciated?

But then again the Father seems not to care, not even to care enough to keep count of the loss.

Love does not keep account of wrong. (J. B. Phillips) But rejoices when truth prevails. The truth of the Father’s love.

Being right won’t last forever. Remember the man who had “he was in the right” written on his tombstone. What will last is love. Forgiveness. Let this be a lesson to me. I am not ready to release all my anger, all my resentment, all my sorrow or grief at what is lost. Are you? Anyone?

But I know the day will come. He has already forgiven me. Can I do no less? Relax my hand, and let the pebble fall I meant to throw, like the people in the Temple ready to stone a woman. Put down my hand, with its accusing finger. Not that I am no better, or much worse. That is not the point. This is not comparative justice. “Well, what about —?”

This is about love that does not wait. That comes to us, unbidden, unready, whether we like it or not. Worthy or not.

And finally — have you ever, even in the slightest, felt like this? Someone comes to you to make amends, someone comes for mercy, someone comes to be forgiven, to make things right, as right as they can, without hope or expectation? Twelve-step people may know it, from either side. Making amends is one of the steps to release from addiction. One of the steps to release from the past. With all its errors. (And it is a release to both parties.)

Not to make room for making new errors. Though errors there may be. But simply in this moment to rejoice with the recovered, the resentful, the relieved, and the joyful, in the restoration, renewal, or even better, the new life that now comes to be.

Forgiveness, as the Father gives it, does not merely restore. It makes new.

Behold you are a new creation. All things have become new. In Christ. Amen.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=humDgJ-SmHI

Fourth Sunday in Lent

William Hogarth, A Rake's Progress I: The Heir

https://shop.soane.org/products/pod435408?_pos=31&_sid=c20f76fc1&_ss=r