As they approached Jerusalem, the disciples praised God with joyful exuberance for all the deeds of power that they had seen.
They were not kidding. He really was the Messiah. And they knew it. And they wanted to let everybody know it.
As he arrived at Jerusalem they set him on the unridden colt of a donkey, showing the prophetic advent of the peaceable king.
Here is the prophecy (Zechariah 9:9):
Rejoice greatly, O daughter Zion!
Shout aloud, O daughter Jerusalem!
Lo, your king comes to you;
triumphant and victorious is he,
humble and riding on a donkey,
on a colt, the foal of a donkey.
He was not playing the warrior prince, but coming as a restorer, a healer, a bringer of peace, a just man. One who would make right what was wrong, who would proclaim righteous behavior as the standard of God. One who would work for justice, for all who sought peace.
He was not kidding. He knew what he was doing. He brought into the city of David the message of the Kingdom of heaven: peace, justice, the establishment of God as the one true final allegiance of all.
And he knew what this could cost him: his life.
But he stayed true to his promise, to his mission. His integrity was absolute.
And so his whole life, that had been given to redeem humankind, came to its consummation, as he led the way to the Temple, and beyond it, to the Cross, doing what was required of him.
He has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God? 8
(Micah 6:8)
The Pharisees said, your disciples are making a ruckus, stirring up trouble. Tell them to stop! But he rebuked them in a prophet's words: If these were to keep silent, the stones themselves would cry out - for justice.
‘Alas for you who get evil gain for your houses,
setting your nest on high
to be safe from the reach of harm!’
You have devised shame for your house
by cutting off many peoples;
you have forfeited your life.
The very stones will cry out from the wall,
and the plaster beam will respond from the woodwork.
‘Alas for you who build a town by bloodshed,
and found a city on iniquity!’
Is it not from the Lord of hosts
that peoples labour only to feed the flames,
and nations weary themselves for nothing?
But the earth will be filled
with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord,
as the waters cover the sea.
(Habbakuk 2:9-14)
Soon he would drive out of the Temple the people who were there to monetize the experience, the moneychangers and dove-keepers, the purveyors for profit in a holy place.
He would teach in the Temple. He would eat the sacred meal of the Passover with his disciples. He would face his betrayers. He would confront the powers of this world. He would suffer under Pontius Pilate, be crucified, die, and be buried.
And he would rise again.
In every action, every word and deed he would accomplish in the coming week, Jesus would proclaim:
This is what my kingdom looks like.
From the triumphal entry into the city, through the passion, through his death, and on to his rising from the dead.
He proclaimed it:
The earth will be filled with the knowledge of the glory of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.
(Habbakuk 2:14)
Blessed the king who comes, the king foretold in the Song of Zechariah, the Magnificat of Mary (and wasn't the Anunciation just the other day?), in the voice of John crying in the wilderness:
Prepare the way! The One is coming, who comes in God's Name.
Peace in heaven, and may it be so on earth. May we now prepare our hearts, to make him room, that we may receive our Messiah King. He is the one who brings us into just and right relationship with God, and with the world God has made. He is the one who came to give us life.
Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord.
We bless you from the house of the Lord. (Psalm 118:26)
Even so, come to us, Lord Jesus. Maranatha! Amen.
May we live by faith, walk in hope and be renewed in love, until the world reflects your glory and you are all in all. Even so, come, Lord Jesus. Amen.
(Book of Common Prayer, Church of Ireland, 2004)
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Almighty God, whose most dear Son went not up to joy but first he suffered pain, and entered not into glory before he was crucified: Mercifully grant that we, walking in the way of the cross, may find it none other than the way of life and peace; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
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Sunday, March 28, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Jane's prayer
Jane Leonaitis, who was with us in worship this year, passed away recently. She was a person of compassion, of joy, and of prayer. She wrote frankly and honestly, and with love. She wrote a prayer, heartfelt and unwithholding, that was read at the celebration of her life, March 27, 2010.
Here is Jane's prayer. What would your prayer be?
Thank you for giving me a prayer voice, Lord, but I feel wordless in your presence. Help me to overcome my Christian insecurity.
I recognize that you are a fathomless mystery, God, and yet that you are a reality and not an illusion. I know that my concept of you matters. Help me to spend more time in reflection, without getting too off-track.
We live in a sea of many belief systems. Help me to swim in the current that is right for me, and to accept that other currents are right for other people.
I am firm in the belief that you are the God of all people. Give me global consciousness and compassion. Help me to appreciate the good that is in those who are different from me.
The world's problems are so big (nuclear - economic - overpopulation . . . . ). Show me how to make sense of that without damaging my optimism.
Help me to believe rightly. Lord, I do not see you as judge and punisher. Help me to recognize what is true and to know if there is something I should be doing about it. What do you want me to be doing?
Help me, Lord, to have a sense of your reality in my life. Fill me with a recognition of your love, and let me enjoy the surprise of finding you where I least expect you.
Lord, help me to clear my mind of the things I don't have answers for. Give me patience, knowing that we will never have all the answers.
Give me strength of purpose, especially in the inevitable hard times of my life.
Give me confidence to enjoy the sweetness of life.
Use me as your imperfect instrument in nurturing others, Lord.
Give me tolerance of my own imperfections, and understanding that you are not finished with me yet. Let me apply similar understanding to others and their imperfections.
I see you as our God who listens, who loves, who is beyond us but also with us, who permits as well as causes things to happen in our lives, who is patient, who is all-knowing and totally good.
I pray that I will think more on these things and apply them in my life. Amen.
--Based on notes of May, 2003, considered and rephrased Feb. 2009. jl
a prayer by Jane R. Leonaitis (March 28, 1927 - March 3, 2010)
Copyright (c) 2010, Jane R. Leonaitis estate. Used with permission.
For the Gospel Grapevine (May 2010) parish newsletter of St Alban's Church, Edmonds, Washington.
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Here is Jane's prayer. What would your prayer be?
Thank you for giving me a prayer voice, Lord, but I feel wordless in your presence. Help me to overcome my Christian insecurity.
I recognize that you are a fathomless mystery, God, and yet that you are a reality and not an illusion. I know that my concept of you matters. Help me to spend more time in reflection, without getting too off-track.
We live in a sea of many belief systems. Help me to swim in the current that is right for me, and to accept that other currents are right for other people.
I am firm in the belief that you are the God of all people. Give me global consciousness and compassion. Help me to appreciate the good that is in those who are different from me.
The world's problems are so big (nuclear - economic - overpopulation . . . . ). Show me how to make sense of that without damaging my optimism.
Help me to believe rightly. Lord, I do not see you as judge and punisher. Help me to recognize what is true and to know if there is something I should be doing about it. What do you want me to be doing?
Help me, Lord, to have a sense of your reality in my life. Fill me with a recognition of your love, and let me enjoy the surprise of finding you where I least expect you.
Lord, help me to clear my mind of the things I don't have answers for. Give me patience, knowing that we will never have all the answers.
Give me strength of purpose, especially in the inevitable hard times of my life.
Give me confidence to enjoy the sweetness of life.
Use me as your imperfect instrument in nurturing others, Lord.
Give me tolerance of my own imperfections, and understanding that you are not finished with me yet. Let me apply similar understanding to others and their imperfections.
I see you as our God who listens, who loves, who is beyond us but also with us, who permits as well as causes things to happen in our lives, who is patient, who is all-knowing and totally good.
I pray that I will think more on these things and apply them in my life. Amen.
--Based on notes of May, 2003, considered and rephrased Feb. 2009. jl
a prayer by Jane R. Leonaitis (March 28, 1927 - March 3, 2010)
Copyright (c) 2010, Jane R. Leonaitis estate. Used with permission.
For the Gospel Grapevine (May 2010) parish newsletter of St Alban's Church, Edmonds, Washington.
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Jane Leonaitis
A Thanksgiving and Celebration for the life of Jane Leonaitis
I shall pass through
this world but once.
If, therefore, there
be any kindness
I can show, or any
good thing I can do,
let me do it now;
let me not defer it
or neglect it, for
I shall not pass
this way again.
Isaiah 40:28-31
Psalm 42:1-7
Romans 8:14-19, 34-35, 37-39
Psalm 23
John 12:24-26
In loving Memory of
Jane R. Leonaitis
March 28, 1927 - March 3, 2010
March 27, 2010 – 11:00 AM
Fairwinds Brighton Court
6520 196th Street
Lynnwood, WA 98036
What I want my funeral to do:
Witness to others.
Be a consolation to those who will miss me.
With these words alone you know that Jane was an extraordinary and loving person. What she witnessed to was life and the goodness of it. She loved, well: and among those whom she loved are those present. She had the gift of joy, and shared it. She had the gift of compassion, and she used it well. Her life was proof that you never know what is coming next. But you know that you are not left alone to face it. She believed in a loving God. A God so loving that he could not be confined by the regulations of his followers. She believed in a present God. A God so present that we are free in this moment to live life fully and truly. She was frank enough to tell us what she thought, what she felt, what she believed. She was a gift to all who met her, however briefly.
Her quiet patience as she came to the altar rail one last time in January; she could not make the steps, she was getting too weak; was just a final testimony of her love, her gentleness, her faith.
She believed in the God that people who don't believe in God yearn to believe in. She believed in God who is love. God who is compassion. God who is mercy. God who is wise - and God who is honest.
She would not want us - or me or you - to confine ourselves in expressing our belief, our trust, in the ultimate power behind the universe. Because she believed that power to be more than power, to be benign and loving. Real power is not in what you take; it is in what you give.
Jane gave; and knew that she was given the gift of life by a loving Creator. We share in that gift of life. It came to us most perfectly in Jesus, whom we Christians know as the ultimate self-expression of divinity, the word of God in person. Through him we come to know the love and mercy and compassion of God; through him we come to believe; in him we find eternal rest.
Gone before us into a great city that has been awaiting her arrival for years; gone before us on strange and wonderful adventures; gone before us into a union with God that makes all occasions ones of celebration, of life, of thanksgiving; of a dance with joy.
Jane led the way.
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I shall pass through
this world but once.
If, therefore, there
be any kindness
I can show, or any
good thing I can do,
let me do it now;
let me not defer it
or neglect it, for
I shall not pass
this way again.
Isaiah 40:28-31
Psalm 42:1-7
Romans 8:14-19, 34-35, 37-39
Psalm 23
John 12:24-26
In loving Memory of
Jane R. Leonaitis
March 28, 1927 - March 3, 2010
March 27, 2010 – 11:00 AM
Fairwinds Brighton Court
6520 196th Street
Lynnwood, WA 98036
What I want my funeral to do:
Witness to others.
Be a consolation to those who will miss me.
With these words alone you know that Jane was an extraordinary and loving person. What she witnessed to was life and the goodness of it. She loved, well: and among those whom she loved are those present. She had the gift of joy, and shared it. She had the gift of compassion, and she used it well. Her life was proof that you never know what is coming next. But you know that you are not left alone to face it. She believed in a loving God. A God so loving that he could not be confined by the regulations of his followers. She believed in a present God. A God so present that we are free in this moment to live life fully and truly. She was frank enough to tell us what she thought, what she felt, what she believed. She was a gift to all who met her, however briefly.
Her quiet patience as she came to the altar rail one last time in January; she could not make the steps, she was getting too weak; was just a final testimony of her love, her gentleness, her faith.
She believed in the God that people who don't believe in God yearn to believe in. She believed in God who is love. God who is compassion. God who is mercy. God who is wise - and God who is honest.
She would not want us - or me or you - to confine ourselves in expressing our belief, our trust, in the ultimate power behind the universe. Because she believed that power to be more than power, to be benign and loving. Real power is not in what you take; it is in what you give.
Jane gave; and knew that she was given the gift of life by a loving Creator. We share in that gift of life. It came to us most perfectly in Jesus, whom we Christians know as the ultimate self-expression of divinity, the word of God in person. Through him we come to know the love and mercy and compassion of God; through him we come to believe; in him we find eternal rest.
Gone before us into a great city that has been awaiting her arrival for years; gone before us on strange and wonderful adventures; gone before us into a union with God that makes all occasions ones of celebration, of life, of thanksgiving; of a dance with joy.
Jane led the way.
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Wednesday, March 24, 2010
children of the day
O GOD,
who has made us the creatures of time,
so that every tomorrow is an unknown country,
and every decision a venture of faith,
Grant us,
frail children of the day,
who are blind to the future,
to move toward it with a sure confidence
in your love,
from which neither life nor death can separate us.
Reinhold Niebuhr.
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who has made us the creatures of time,
so that every tomorrow is an unknown country,
and every decision a venture of faith,
Grant us,
frail children of the day,
who are blind to the future,
to move toward it with a sure confidence
in your love,
from which neither life nor death can separate us.
Reinhold Niebuhr.
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Monday, March 22, 2010
Sunday, March 21, 2010
The Little Feast
Come to The Little Feast – a springtime celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator.
We see emerging around us the beginnings of a fresh springtime in the church. We experience, growing from roots deep-set in gospel soil, new forms of community, of worship, and music, and new relationships developing between younger congregations and more established church bodies and organizations.
What is happening is a celebration! A celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator - a Little Feast (just a day after the Ascension) ... beginning in the big old living room of Rosewood Manor, with an evening of ‘the round’ - a collaboration of improvisatory musical, visual, and culinary artists... and continuing with a blessing and gathering prayer at St Alban's the next morning, followed by four thought- and conversation- stimulating presentations – by resource folk from inside and outside our own communities – along with workshops led by artists, musicians and prayerful folk from Beloved and St Alban's.
Thanks to early support from Bishop Greg and the diocese of Olympia we are off to a good start. We expect we will need to chip in about twelve bucks each for food and incidentals. We will be welcoming all who attend.
Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime. – Martin Luther
The Little Feast: a springtime celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator,
with the Church of the Beloved and St. Alban's Church,
in Edmonds, Washington,
featuring Tara Ward, Tom Sine, Christine Sine, Eric Hanson, and other members of our communities
• Friday evening May 14th, 7-9pm at Rosewood Manor,
8104 220th St SW, Edmonds, WA 98026 (http://belovedschurch.org/)
• Saturday May 15th, 9.30am-3pm at St. Alban's Episcopal Church,
21405 82nd Place West, Edmonds, WA 98026 (http://stalbansedmonds.org/)
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Mary Anoints Jesus
Let the words of my mouth, and the meditation of my heart, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord, my strength, and my redeemer. (Psalm 19:14)
We are a pilgrim people, a sojourner people: a people living in the midst of a journey. We are on a journey of life, from bondage to freedom, from sin to grace, from death to life. We are like the people of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, of Moses, Aaron and Miriam. We too are traveling through a wilderness, holding onto the promise of resurrection as we pass from the life of fear to freedom, from desire to hope, from need to fulfillment: from the poverty of our own efforts to the richness of the treasure of life in the resurrection.
We pray: “that our hearts may surely there be fixed where true joys are to be found”, i.e., our eternal home. (Collect for the 5th Sunday in Lent)
We are a pilgrim people, restless until we rest in thee: restless until we live in the promise of resurrection.
Isaiah 43:16-21 “I am about to do a new thing” – preparation for Passion/Resurrection, Easter
Psalm 126 – harvest of joy -
v. 7b – Those who go out weeping, carrying the seed, - Cross
v. 7b - will come again with joy, shouldering their sheaves. - Resurrection
Phil 3:4b-14 press on toward the goal
“I regard them as rubbish”, that is, dung – remember the Parable of the Fig Tree, the vinedresser saying, let me dig around it and dung it
John 12:1-8 Mary anoints Jesus
Mary and Martha had prepared their brother for burial.
Leave her alone, Jesus says, as he had said to those accusing the woman caught in adultery: let her be.
How often do we respond as Mary does? Adoring Jesus
What she did: what do you think of that? “I wish I could be like that” –
What she does – what it means changes – or reaches its fulfillment, when Jesus says,
“She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial.”
Her prophetic act proclaims that – this is the day of his burial, and the hour of his death is the hour of his glory, the victory of the Cross is at hand – and it also says, he is Messiah, he is Lord – he is the One to be expected, the One to adore.
You will always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me – warning.
Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime. –Martin Luther
As we come to live into the promise of resurrection, we become the story God is telling in the world. So tell this story in me, O Christ, that I may bear in my branches the truth of the vine that gives me life.
From Exodus // Exile to Return; from Cross to Resurrection: Mary anoints Jesus, prophetically anticipating his death; on the First Day, she greets the risen Christ.
Exodus // Exile // Messiah
Ps126
v. 1-4 When the Lord restored (prophetic anticipation)
v. 5-7 Restore our fortunes (petition: may it be so for us)
mourning to joy
death to life
grief to celebration
In him, you have delivered us from evil, and made us worthy to stand before you. In him, you have brought us out of error into truth, out of sin into righteousness, out of death into life. (Eucharistic Prayer B, Book of Common Prayer, USA, 1979)
Phil 3:4b-14
The contrast is sharp at this season between flesh, Law, Lent, and spirit, grace, Easter.
We want to go quickly from one to the other, but must pass through God’s Good Friday on the way.
The contrast sharp at this season of Lent between the human situation – the dilemma of sin, fallen-ness, and the promise of resurrection – spirit, grace, resurrection.
The movement from anger and frustration, grief, and a sense of futility, to hope, joy, and grace, from it cannot happen to we can do it.
If the poor we will have always with us – then:
How do we live into the promise of resurrection in our poverty? In immigration policy? In care for the sick? In healing the mistreated and abused?
How do we respond, ourselves rich or poor, in sickness or health, in good times and bad, to the poor, the sick, the stranger, the child?
Luke 6:20-21
Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
‘Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
‘Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.
‘Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
How do we live into the promise of resurrection?
This should be our principle as we examine the issues of today -
- The sick
- Children
- The sojourner
PASTORAL LETTER OF THE HOLY FATHER POPE BENEDICT XVI TO THE CATHOLICS OF IRELAND
We respond with a call to social & economic justice, to treatment of the stranger, sojourner, migrant; the sick, the impoverished; schoolchildren; as yes always with us – and we are always to treat them as we would treat Christ. “As you did unto the least of these my brothers and sisters, you did unto me.”
Matthew 25:34-40
34Then the king will say to those at his right hand, “Come, you that are blessed by my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world; 35for I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, 36I was naked and you gave me clothing, I was sick and you took care of me, I was in prison and you visited me.” 37Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord, when was it that we saw you hungry and gave you food, or thirsty and gave you something to drink? 38And when was it that we saw you a stranger and welcomed you, or naked and gave you clothing? 39And when was it that we saw you sick or in prison and visited you?” 40And the king will answer them, “Truly I tell you, just as you did it to one of the least of these who are members of my family, you did it to me.”
Hope
Faith
Joy
Peace
Love
Mary anoints Jesus: and so she proclaims his death until he comes, and she testifies to his glory. She, the first witness to the resurrection, here begins the telling forth from her soul of the greatness of the Lord. This Mary, like Mary the mother of Jesus, sees the Messiah.
Mary anoints the anointed One, showing to the world that this is the One worthy of praise. He is the son of man, truly human, and more than man: he is our savior and Lord.
We know the truth is coming: we know that death is not the end. We know the final victory belongs to God. And it is revealed to us in Christ. Let us begin to celebrate that victory: let us begin to live into the promise of resurrection.
O Christ, come to us, as you came of old: gathering your disciples, as a teacher; gathering all God’s children, as a mother hen gathers her chicks under her wings; gathering us to yourself, as you are our Savior. And as you did of old, send us forth in loving service, to proclaim by word and deed the good news of the kingdom of God revealed in you. Amen.
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Monday, March 15, 2010
Living into the promise of resurrection
To enter the season of Easter is to enter uncharted territory; a world of new possibilities that our preconceived notions and categories are not adequate to describe.
What we bring to this present moment - the moment of freedom, includes our history and habits, as well as a capacity for joyful adventure, for enjoying the new possibilities that Easter brings. The news of Easter morning does not seem possible. But it is true.
- Alleluia. Christ is risen!
- The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!
And from this moment on everything is different, old things pass away and the new begins.
- Do you believe in the resurrection?
- Yes.
- Well, then, can you explain it to me?
- Ah, h'm...
What happened on Easter morning is hard to explain, but it changed absolutely everything.
What we do with what happened on Easter morning - how we change our minds and let our lives be turned in a new direction, more profoundly tells the meaning of the resurrection than any formula.
From that day’s work, when Christ won our deliverance from the dominance of death, life has been completely transformed.
As we say of the hour of death, life is changed, not ended; death has not the final word, the finality, any more - for Christ is raised, from the dead, and in him, in his raising, all are raised.
In him, who rose from the dead, our hope of resurrection dawned.
The sadness of death gives way to the bright promise of immortality.
With him we are living into a new future, the new possibility that life can have meaning beyond itself, beyond the grave, beyond our circumstances, beyond our individuality; we have life in Christ and in Christ's life we find life.
Nobody knows fully what this new possibility means. We only know of it because of the witness to the resurrection by the women and the men who beheld the empty tomb, the risen Lord, and the Ascension – and the coming of the Holy Spirit down upon them.
We too look for the descent of the dove, the power of the Spirit; knowing full well it has meaning beyond our dreams, holds out hope beyond our accomplishment, and fills us with love beyond our capacity for self doubt or remorse, anguish or uncertainty.
Claims on life as we lived it once before are gone; as we live into the resurrection we let go of life – and truly grasp it at last.
What happens now? What do we do now?
That was the disciples’ question from the first – and it was the beginning of a new life.
And he said to them, Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation. (Mark 16:15)
- - - - - - - - -
Come to The Little Feast – a springtime celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator.
Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime. – Martin Luther
We see emerging around us the beginnings of a fresh springtime in the church. We experience, growing from roots deep-set in gospel soil, new forms of community, of worship, and music, and new relationships developing between younger congregations and more established church bodies and organizations.
What is happening is a celebration! A celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator - a Little Feast (just a day after the Ascension) ... beginning in the big old living room of Rosewood Manor, with an evening of ‘the round’ - a collaboration of improvisatory musical, visual, and culinary artists... and continuing with a blessing and gathering prayer at St Alban's the next morning, followed by four thought- and conversation- stimulating presentations – by resource folk from inside and outside our own communities – along with workshops led by artists, musicians and prayerful folk from Beloved and St Alban's.
Thanks to early support from Bishop Greg and the diocese of Olympia we are off to a good start. We expect we will need to chip in about twelve bucks each for food and incidentals. We will be welcoming all who attend.
The Little Feast: a springtime celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator,
with the Church of the Beloved, featuring Tara Ward, Tom Sine, Christine Sine, Eric Hanson, and other members of our communities
• Friday evening May 14th, 7-9pm at Rosewood Manor,
8104 220th St SW, Edmonds, WA 98026 (http://belovedschurch.org/)
• Saturday May 15th, 9.30am-3pm at St. Alban's Episcopal Church,
21405 82nd Place West, Edmonds, WA 98026 (http://stalbansedmonds.org/)
+
Living into the new possibility
To enter the season of Easter is to enter uncharted territory: a world of new possibilities that our preconceived notions and categories are not adequate to describe.
What we bring to the present moment - the moment of freedom - includes our history and habits, as well as a capacity for joy - and for enjoying the new possibilities that Easter brings. It does not seem possible - but it is true.
What we bring to the present moment - the moment of freedom - includes our history and habits, as well as a capacity for joy - and for enjoying the new possibilities that Easter brings. It does not seem possible - but it is true.
Alleluia. Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!
And from this moment on everything is different - old things pass away and the new begins.
*
Mark 16:15
And he said to them, Go into all the world and proclaim the good news to the whole creation.
Luke 24:50-51
Then he led them out as far as Bethany, and, lifting up his hands, he blessed them. While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.
Acts 1:9
When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight.
Mark 16:19
So then the Lord Jesus, after he had spoken to them, was taken up into heaven and sat down at the right hand of God.
Acts 1:10-11
While he was going and they were gazing up towards heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them. They said, 'Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking up towards heaven? This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.'
Luke 24:52
And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy;
Acts 1:12
Then they returned to Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is near
*
Jesus, in your mercy you behold us. You ascend, yet your love remains among us, so that here and now, in mortal time and human place, you already refresh our spirits with the hope of glory.
(Adapted from J. S. Bach, Ascension Oratorio, BWV 11 - Taverner Consort & Players/Andrew Parrott)
Sunday, March 14, 2010
restored to life
Absalom, Absalom, my son, my son!
O how that father must have wept.
I feel for him now.
I always have.
I always knew one of my boys would leave me.
I knew he wouldn't understand - and he'd reject my love.
He would not embrace what I loved - not even if it was his own brother, lost so long ago, and now, found again.
How could it be? His own flesh and blood.
And yet...
I have waited so long. Scanning the horizon. Hope against hope, hoping to find him.
Wondering if he'd ever come home.
Should I have gone after him?
A secret: I did.
+
O how that father must have wept.
I feel for him now.
I always have.
I always knew one of my boys would leave me.
I knew he wouldn't understand - and he'd reject my love.
He would not embrace what I loved - not even if it was his own brother, lost so long ago, and now, found again.
How could it be? His own flesh and blood.
And yet...
I have waited so long. Scanning the horizon. Hope against hope, hoping to find him.
Wondering if he'd ever come home.
Should I have gone after him?
A secret: I did.
+
I'd rather not
I'd rather not talk about it.
Where has he been?
Squandering all the family money, that's where.
On the far side of the world.
What does he think?
What did he think would happen?
What was my father thinking?
What is my father doing now??
That fellow treated us like we were dead. He went to my father and asked for his inheritance. Now. While my father is alive, he asked for what he had no right to ask - not until my father is dead. You never do that. It's like saying to the person, you are dead to me - now.
Give me my inheritance. Unbelievable.
And then he took it - and wasted it.
He went far away and spent it on one big long party for himself - with loose women, and wine, and no doubt with that noise he calls music.
Now he's back, and he gets another party?
No. No way. This cannot stand. This is unacceptable.
And yet - here he is.
And my father embraces him. He welcomes him back - and throws a party for him.
As if he's regained a lost treasure, or got a dearly beloved lamb back in the fold.
Like the lost coin that woman found when she turned her house upside down looking for it.
“Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.”
Like the lost sheep the farmer left the flock to find - and brought back riding on his shoulders.
“Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.”
Now my father has a kid on his own back, again; that's for sure!
And he kills the calf we've been fattening.
No goat for me.
And this is what he has to say about it.
“Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”
I'd rather not talk about it.
+
Where has he been?
Squandering all the family money, that's where.
On the far side of the world.
What does he think?
What did he think would happen?
What was my father thinking?
What is my father doing now??
That fellow treated us like we were dead. He went to my father and asked for his inheritance. Now. While my father is alive, he asked for what he had no right to ask - not until my father is dead. You never do that. It's like saying to the person, you are dead to me - now.
Give me my inheritance. Unbelievable.
And then he took it - and wasted it.
He went far away and spent it on one big long party for himself - with loose women, and wine, and no doubt with that noise he calls music.
Now he's back, and he gets another party?
No. No way. This cannot stand. This is unacceptable.
And yet - here he is.
And my father embraces him. He welcomes him back - and throws a party for him.
As if he's regained a lost treasure, or got a dearly beloved lamb back in the fold.
Like the lost coin that woman found when she turned her house upside down looking for it.
“Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.”
Like the lost sheep the farmer left the flock to find - and brought back riding on his shoulders.
“Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.”
Now my father has a kid on his own back, again; that's for sure!
And he kills the calf we've been fattening.
No goat for me.
And this is what he has to say about it.
“Son, you are always with me, and all that is mine is yours. But we had to celebrate and rejoice, because this brother of yours was dead and has come to life; he was lost and has been found.”
I'd rather not talk about it.
+
Saturday, March 13, 2010
coming home again for the first time
It's been a long ride. Across the water, up the hill, and over the road - and finally, as the old place comes into sight once again, the welcome. Unexpected. More than could be hoped for.
"Rejoice with me, for what was lost is found, - the one who was dead is alive!"
Ring on your finger, robe on your back, the calf fattened now prepared as a feast - on the occasion of your homecoming.
and yet... you've never been here before!
This is new - it is a new place. These are new people.
... they welcome you as if you've always been known to them.
How can this be? How can they know you if they have never seen you before? never heard your name?
It comes because they see Christ in you - because they welcome the stranger, feed the hungry, bring comfort to the sick, give the thirsty something to drink, clothe the man in tattered rags, visit the prisoner. Because they see Christ in all these they see Christ in you.
And that is the hope of glory: the presence of the Lord in the cast-off, the indigent, the marginal, the lost; to tell the truth, the sinner.
In you and me, you and me.
In Christ we are made a new creation; in Christ we are made whole; in Christ we are made welcome and welcome others - to the feast, the banquet-table, the presence of the Lord.
Are we worthy? No. We are loved.
+
Living Easter All the Year Round
Our Lord has written the promise of resurrection, not in books alone, but in every leaf in springtime. - Martin Luther
- Do you believe in the resurrection?
- Yes.
- Well, then, can you explain it to me?
- ...
What happened on Easter morning is hard to explain - but it changed absolutely everything.
What we do with what happened - how we change our minds and let our lives be turned around in a new direction - more profoundly tells the meaning of the resurrection than any formula.
From that day forward - from that day forward to this one - life is changed. Not ended.
As we say of the hour of death life is changed, not ended: meaning that death has not the final word, the finality, any more - for Christ is raised, from the dead, and in him, in his raising, all are raised.
With him we are living into a new future - the new possibility that life can have meaning beyond itself, beyond the grave, beyond our circumstances, beyond our individuality; we have life in Christ and in Christ's life we find life.
We know we are going home - for the first time - to a place we have never been; we will dwell forever in the presence of God.
Nobody knows what this means - nobody can witness to it. We only know of it because of the witness to the resurrection by the women and the men who beheld the empty tomb, the risen Lord, and the Ascension - and the coming of the holy Spirit down upon them.
We too wish for the descent of the dove, the power of the Spirit; knowing full well it has meaning beyond our dreams, holds out hope beyond our accomplishment, and fills us with love beyond our capacity for self doubt or remorse, anguish or uncertainty.
Claims on life as we lived it once before are gone; as we live into the resurrection we let go of life - and truly grasp it at last.
+
Living Easter Through the Year, by John Pritchard, Bishop of Oxford (SPCK, 2005)
JRL+
Come to The Little Feast
Come to The Little Feast:
a springtime celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator
with the Church of the Beloved
featuring Tara Ward, Tom Sine, Christine Sine, Eric Hanson, ...
• Friday evening May 14th, 7-9pm at Rosewood Manor,
8104 220th St SW, Edmonds, WA 98026 (http://belovedschurch.org/)
• Saturday May 15th, 9.30am-3pm at St. Alban's Episcopal Church,
21405 82nd Place West, Edmonds, WA 98026 (http://www.stalbansedmonds.org/)
The first time I heard the term "emergent theology" it was in the context of the systematic theology of Donald L. Gelpi, S.J., author of Experiencing God: A Theology of Human Emergence (Paulist Press), Charism and Sacrament, The Gracing of Human Experience, and most recently Encountering Jesus Christ: Rethinking Christological Faith and Commitment (Marquette, 2009). At the University of Notre Dame and later at the Jesuit School of Theology in Berkeley, Don Gelpi has explored an informed understanding of experience of the holy Spirit in the lives of believers - and how we live that out in personal transformation and in community. Conversion he once defined as the taking of responsibility for an area of one's own growth and development, be it moral/ethical, affective (emotional), cognitive (intellectual), or - mediating between the others - religious.
More recently the term "emergent theology" has been used in the 'emerging church' movement, and at conferences such as "The Church in the 21st Century" sponsored by the Washington National Cathedral College of Preachers in May 2007 - and documented in books: The New Conspirators by Tom Sine, The Great Emergence by Phyllis Tickle, Christianity for the Rest of Us by Diana Butler Bass, ...
What has been happening lately is the emergence of new ways of 'doing church' - new forms of community (see Tom Sine's book for five useful categories), new forms of worship, new music (http://belovedschurch.org/hope), and new relationships between emerging congregations and more traditional established church bodies and organizations.
So much for the technical stuff. What is happening is a celebration!
A celebration of creation, creativity, and the Creator - a Little Feast (just a day after the Ascension) ... beginning in the big old living room of Rosewood Manor, with an evening of 'the round' - a collaboration of improvisatory musical, visual, and culinary artists... and continuing with a blessing and gathering prayer at St Albans the next morning, followed by four thought- and conversation- stimulating presentations - by resource folk from inside and outside our own communities - along with workshops led by artists, musicians and prayerful folk from Beloved and St Albans.
Thanks to early support from Bishop Greg and the diocese of Olympia we are off to a good start. We expect we will need to chip in about twelve bucks each for food and incidentals. We will be welcoming all who attend.
Speaking of welcomes... in the fall, come join us for another celebration, A Hundred Thousand Welcomes, exploring Celtic Christian spirituality with Tom Cashman and Carla Pryne, October 22-23, 2010, again at Rosewood Manor and under the big brown roof of St Albans Edmonds...
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Thursday, March 11, 2010
ice breaker
Seattle Times (Thursday, March 11, 2010, p. B8):
Icebreaker docked in Seattle to be refitted for duty
The Coast Guard's top brass landed in Seattle on Wednesday to announce the refitting of an old icebreaker, along with the need to act in the face of global climate change. ...
Asked if the Coast Guard is operating on the premise that climate change is a certainty, [Adm. Thad] Allen said, "Well, you know I'm not a scientist, I'm a sailor. And the most PC way for me to say this is I'm agnostic to the science. There's water where there didn't use to be and I'm responsible for it.
"Certain things are undeniable. The Arctic ice cap is shrinking. The parameters of our oceans are changing. Temperature is changing. Salinity is changing. We have carbon dioxide that's entering the water column right now making carbonic acid that has a significant impact on shellfish and the food chain. These are all undeniable."
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2011312534_icebreaker11m.html
+
Icebreaker docked in Seattle to be refitted for duty
The Coast Guard's top brass landed in Seattle on Wednesday to announce the refitting of an old icebreaker, along with the need to act in the face of global climate change. ...
Asked if the Coast Guard is operating on the premise that climate change is a certainty, [Adm. Thad] Allen said, "Well, you know I'm not a scientist, I'm a sailor. And the most PC way for me to say this is I'm agnostic to the science. There's water where there didn't use to be and I'm responsible for it.
"Certain things are undeniable. The Arctic ice cap is shrinking. The parameters of our oceans are changing. Temperature is changing. Salinity is changing. We have carbon dioxide that's entering the water column right now making carbonic acid that has a significant impact on shellfish and the food chain. These are all undeniable."
http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/localnews/2011312534_icebreaker11m.html
+
Monday, March 8, 2010
mission statement
As we look ahead, here are a couple of things to think about:
1) What would it mean to see ourselves as God's people called to mission in this place at this time?
2) How can we help people to take delight in fellowship and faith? An infectious faith, a joyous faith, will be winsome and welcoming to the people around us.
One reason we study the Baptismal Covenant during Lent is to prepare for the renewal of Baptismal vows at Easter; another is to remind ourselves of what our mission is...
Here from last fall's address to diocesan convention, is our bishop's clarification of our mission:
I believe our mission—cogent, clear, life-changing—is our Baptismal Covenant, found on page 304 of the Book of Common Prayer. Were we to follow it to its end, the world would be totally transformed. It gives us a lot to do and a lot to be.
http://www.ecww.org
+
Since last night was Oscars night, here is something lighter, from "Jerry Maguire":
- What you wrote inspired me. I'm working with you because of that memo. I loved that memo.
- It was a mission statement.
- Well ...
+
1) What would it mean to see ourselves as God's people called to mission in this place at this time?
2) How can we help people to take delight in fellowship and faith? An infectious faith, a joyous faith, will be winsome and welcoming to the people around us.
One reason we study the Baptismal Covenant during Lent is to prepare for the renewal of Baptismal vows at Easter; another is to remind ourselves of what our mission is...
Here from last fall's address to diocesan convention, is our bishop's clarification of our mission:
I believe our mission—cogent, clear, life-changing—is our Baptismal Covenant, found on page 304 of the Book of Common Prayer. Were we to follow it to its end, the world would be totally transformed. It gives us a lot to do and a lot to be.
http://www.ecww.org
+
Since last night was Oscars night, here is something lighter, from "Jerry Maguire":
- What you wrote inspired me. I'm working with you because of that memo. I loved that memo.
- It was a mission statement.
- Well ...
+
Sunday, March 7, 2010
dormant
It's late winter - the winds are calm and the skies are clear over the Yakima Valley, and the fruit trees are just showing signs of stirring to life. Temperatures have risen to 40 to 70 degrees, and on some days and nights it does not drop below 50, and those particular days are the best to 'wake up the trees' with dormant oil spray. Dormant oil prevents insect damage during the growing season of the year. It could also be said to 'wake up the trees' which have laid dormant all winter - it is the first sign of preparing for something new to grow.
And I checked - the pear trees have not reached bud-break yet but you can see the buds of new blossoms (and therefore fruit) beginning to form.
For now, though, it is preparation time - time to do what you need to do to prepare for new growth.
Fig tree in a vineyard - I haven't seen that one, yet. But I can imagine that if you planted a fig tree in a vineyard after it had time to establish itself and reach maturity, you might well go looking for fruit.
After all what about the picture of earthly happiness, when "every one of you will eat from your own vine and your own fig tree" (2 Kings 18:31)?
Yet the man who had the fig tree planted in the vineyard comes looking for fruit - and finds nothing. "Cut it down! Why should it cumber the ground?" he tells the vine-dresser. The vine-dresser intercedes: Give it another year. Let me dig around it and nourish it; then at the end of the season, we'll see.
It is like the story of the vineyard where the owner sent servant after servant to the tenants, and finally sent his son. One more try.
A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: And if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down. (Luke 13:6-9, KJV)
What seems a parable of judgment is a message of mercy - and of preparation. This is a season when what seems unnecessary - the acknowledgment of falling short of God's glory - becomes necessary preparation for receiving the full abundance of life.
Moses in the wilderness was not a likely candidate for liberation - or for leading his whole people from bondage to freedom. He had killed a man - and lit out for the desert. There he was, tending sheep, and far away from his people, when the most unlikely of things happened. He saw a bush burning, and yet not consumed.
Where is God: sometimes he is found in the solace of fierce landscapes. In this most unlikely of places, the wandering prophet received the blessing of God. I have heard my people's cry; I have come down to deliver them. I will bring them to the land where they will enjoy freedom - and the bounty of fruitfulness.
If there is anywhere you will sit under your own vine and eat of your own fig tree, it is in the land of peace which God has promised.
So Moses goes on to ask, as prophets will, "Who am I to take on such a commission?"
God answers, "I will be with you."
"But who will I say sent me?"
There is an answer:
I AM WHO I AM - and I WILL BECOME WHO I WILL BECOME - the source of all being, that's who.
The source of all being, the ground of being, the nature of existence - and yet, also something... no, not a thing, not an abstract principle, but some One, who is not distant from human experience:
The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham - who promised him children as numerous as the stars at night; the God of Isaac the first-fruits of the promise; the God of Jacob, who wrestled with me all night and persevered and got the blessing.
That is who I am, that is who sends you. I am the one who sends you, to my people, to bring them the good news of salvation, of freedom from bondage, of a new abundant life.
That is the One who sent Moses - and Jesus.
It is not an easy sending - and the cost is high. So is the gift:
R. S. Thomas, "The Coming"
And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look, he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.
http://ayjay.tumblr.com/post/5739594/r-s-thomas-the-coming
God sent his Son to us, not that we might be condemned, but that we might be free, and live abundantly. He is manna in the wilderness, water in the desert - he is the one my soul seeks, as in a barren and dry land where there is no water. He is the one whose loving-kindness is better than life itself.
And so what are we to make of the bad things that happen to ordinary people?
Did they have it coming, those Galileans so horribly treated by the Roman governor Pontius Pilate?
Did they deserve it, the people on whom the crumbly tower finally fell?
No, they were no worse and no better than anyone else. The blessing of God likewise is for all regardless of merit. His comfort is not the comfort however of ease: it is the solace of fierce landscapes.
God does not promise that we will not go through the desert: God promises that he will go through the desert with us.
And so he sent his Son, who though he was equal with God, and though he was sinless, took on himself our human nature, and suffered and lived and experienced all that fallen nature can give - so that on our behalf he took up the Cross, and went on the long road to Calvary.
Was he a miserable offender, the one who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; who descended into hell?
No, he was the one who died for us. He is the one who went before us, and will lead us to freedom. If we accept the gift.
Not the easy dismissal of indifference, not the get-out-of-jail-free card of cheap grace. God cares enough for us to know that our sin, our fallen nature, is real - to be taken seriously - and to see us through, not abandoning us or dismissing us with a wave.
God does not pretend. It really happened - we really did fall short of the glory of God - and what also really happens is God's grace and mercy. Forgiveness comes after repentance - but it really surely does arrive.
And the fruit does appear on the tree - after the dormant time, the preparation, the pruning; after the digging around is done and the compost is spread; there comes a time of joyful celebration, of peace - when each of us will be in the vineyard, when work is done - and the fruits of the spirit are made manifest in us.
Maranatha - come Lord Jesus - and let us live the blessing of your presence.
May we who experience the barren landscape of winter come to a time of preparation, a season of forgiveness, that we be made ready to receive you when you come to us. May we welcome the blessing of your loving-kindness and may our hearts be open to you.
May we remember always that we belong to a loving God who won't leave us alone.
May we receive the blessing of God - and be reminded we are guided by love every step of our lives. (a blessing and a sending, from the Church of the Beloved http://belovedschurch.org)
AMEN.
+
And I checked - the pear trees have not reached bud-break yet but you can see the buds of new blossoms (and therefore fruit) beginning to form.
For now, though, it is preparation time - time to do what you need to do to prepare for new growth.
Fig tree in a vineyard - I haven't seen that one, yet. But I can imagine that if you planted a fig tree in a vineyard after it had time to establish itself and reach maturity, you might well go looking for fruit.
After all what about the picture of earthly happiness, when "every one of you will eat from your own vine and your own fig tree" (2 Kings 18:31)?
Yet the man who had the fig tree planted in the vineyard comes looking for fruit - and finds nothing. "Cut it down! Why should it cumber the ground?" he tells the vine-dresser. The vine-dresser intercedes: Give it another year. Let me dig around it and nourish it; then at the end of the season, we'll see.
It is like the story of the vineyard where the owner sent servant after servant to the tenants, and finally sent his son. One more try.
A certain man had a fig tree planted in his vineyard; and he came and sought fruit thereon, and found none. Then said he unto the dresser of his vineyard, Behold, these three years I come seeking fruit on this fig tree, and find none: cut it down; why cumbereth it the ground? And he answering said unto him, Lord, let it alone this year also, till I shall dig about it, and dung it: And if it bear fruit, well: and if not, then after that thou shalt cut it down. (Luke 13:6-9, KJV)
What seems a parable of judgment is a message of mercy - and of preparation. This is a season when what seems unnecessary - the acknowledgment of falling short of God's glory - becomes necessary preparation for receiving the full abundance of life.
Moses in the wilderness was not a likely candidate for liberation - or for leading his whole people from bondage to freedom. He had killed a man - and lit out for the desert. There he was, tending sheep, and far away from his people, when the most unlikely of things happened. He saw a bush burning, and yet not consumed.
Where is God: sometimes he is found in the solace of fierce landscapes. In this most unlikely of places, the wandering prophet received the blessing of God. I have heard my people's cry; I have come down to deliver them. I will bring them to the land where they will enjoy freedom - and the bounty of fruitfulness.
If there is anywhere you will sit under your own vine and eat of your own fig tree, it is in the land of peace which God has promised.
So Moses goes on to ask, as prophets will, "Who am I to take on such a commission?"
God answers, "I will be with you."
"But who will I say sent me?"
There is an answer:
I AM WHO I AM - and I WILL BECOME WHO I WILL BECOME - the source of all being, that's who.
The source of all being, the ground of being, the nature of existence - and yet, also something... no, not a thing, not an abstract principle, but some One, who is not distant from human experience:
The Lord, the God of your ancestors, the God of Abraham - who promised him children as numerous as the stars at night; the God of Isaac the first-fruits of the promise; the God of Jacob, who wrestled with me all night and persevered and got the blessing.
That is who I am, that is who sends you. I am the one who sends you, to my people, to bring them the good news of salvation, of freedom from bondage, of a new abundant life.
That is the One who sent Moses - and Jesus.
It is not an easy sending - and the cost is high. So is the gift:
R. S. Thomas, "The Coming"
And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look, he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, a river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.
http://ayjay.tumblr.com/post/5739594/r-s-thomas-the-coming
God sent his Son to us, not that we might be condemned, but that we might be free, and live abundantly. He is manna in the wilderness, water in the desert - he is the one my soul seeks, as in a barren and dry land where there is no water. He is the one whose loving-kindness is better than life itself.
And so what are we to make of the bad things that happen to ordinary people?
Did they have it coming, those Galileans so horribly treated by the Roman governor Pontius Pilate?
Did they deserve it, the people on whom the crumbly tower finally fell?
No, they were no worse and no better than anyone else. The blessing of God likewise is for all regardless of merit. His comfort is not the comfort however of ease: it is the solace of fierce landscapes.
God does not promise that we will not go through the desert: God promises that he will go through the desert with us.
And so he sent his Son, who though he was equal with God, and though he was sinless, took on himself our human nature, and suffered and lived and experienced all that fallen nature can give - so that on our behalf he took up the Cross, and went on the long road to Calvary.
Was he a miserable offender, the one who suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, dead, and buried; who descended into hell?
No, he was the one who died for us. He is the one who went before us, and will lead us to freedom. If we accept the gift.
Not the easy dismissal of indifference, not the get-out-of-jail-free card of cheap grace. God cares enough for us to know that our sin, our fallen nature, is real - to be taken seriously - and to see us through, not abandoning us or dismissing us with a wave.
God does not pretend. It really happened - we really did fall short of the glory of God - and what also really happens is God's grace and mercy. Forgiveness comes after repentance - but it really surely does arrive.
And the fruit does appear on the tree - after the dormant time, the preparation, the pruning; after the digging around is done and the compost is spread; there comes a time of joyful celebration, of peace - when each of us will be in the vineyard, when work is done - and the fruits of the spirit are made manifest in us.
Maranatha - come Lord Jesus - and let us live the blessing of your presence.
May we who experience the barren landscape of winter come to a time of preparation, a season of forgiveness, that we be made ready to receive you when you come to us. May we welcome the blessing of your loving-kindness and may our hearts be open to you.
May we remember always that we belong to a loving God who won't leave us alone.
May we receive the blessing of God - and be reminded we are guided by love every step of our lives. (a blessing and a sending, from the Church of the Beloved http://belovedschurch.org)
AMEN.
+
How to Spray Fruit Trees With Dormant Oil
Are your fruit trees producing more disease then fruit? Spend one winter afternoon outside with your trees and enjoy the rewards this summer.
Dormant spray, or Lime-Sulfur Spray can be purchased at any local nursery. It's considered one of the best organic defenses against diseases because the spray smothers over wintering spores and fungus. Because Dormant Spray can damage leaves and needles on trees and shrubs, you have to spray your fruit trees when they are dormant, before the buds have begun to open (bud-break).
http://www.ehow.com/how_2181250_spray-fruit-trees-dormant-oil.html
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Dormant spray, or Lime-Sulfur Spray can be purchased at any local nursery. It's considered one of the best organic defenses against diseases because the spray smothers over wintering spores and fungus. Because Dormant Spray can damage leaves and needles on trees and shrubs, you have to spray your fruit trees when they are dormant, before the buds have begun to open (bud-break).
http://www.ehow.com/how_2181250_spray-fruit-trees-dormant-oil.html
+
Saturday, March 6, 2010
The Coming
And God held in his hand
A small globe. Look he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, A river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.
RS Thomas
http://www.julianmaddock.org.uk/poetry/TheComing.html
+
A small globe. Look he said.
The son looked. Far off,
As through water, he saw
A scorched land of fierce
Colour. The light burned
There; crusted buildings
Cast their shadows: a bright
Serpent, A river
Uncoiled itself, radiant
With slime.
On a bare
Hill a bare tree saddened
The sky. Many people
Held out their thin arms
To it, as though waiting
For a vanished April
To return to its crossed
Boughs. The son watched
Them. Let me go there, he said.
RS Thomas
http://www.julianmaddock.org.uk/poetry/TheComing.html
+
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