Lord, teach me. . . .

The glory of God is a human being, fully alive. –Meister Eckhart Last Sunday, we celebrated Resurrection Sunday, Jesus’ eternal victory of life over death. Now we have entered the season of Easter, fifty days leading up to Pentecost. It seems only fitting that after forty days reflecting on Jesus’ wilderness journey, now we have fifty days to celebrate the glory of God—and what that means for us. Throughout Jesus’ brief ministry, people desiring healing, wholeness and hope took a chance. The paralytic’s faithful friends invested their time, energy and faith to bring him closer to Jesus (Mark 2:1-12). The woman with the bleeding problem took a risk, reaching out to touch the hem of Jesus’ robe (Mark 5:21-34). Even Peter, the trusted disciple, risked it all, stepping out of the boat in an act of faith (Matthew 14:22-35). Once these people began to understand that Jesus was completely, fully invested in them—despite their broken and messy lives—they, in turn, chose to tru

Ordinary riches can be stolen; real riches cannot. In your soul are infinitely precious things that cannot be taken from you.  –Oscar Wilde In our Christian faith, for the past forty days (plus Sundays) we have been observing the period of Lent. We have remembered and reflected on Jesus’ life, ministry and death. For forty days, or roughly 10% of a year, many have made a tithe of our lives by giving up something we felt overly dependent upon, or perhaps added an extra gift of our time to charity or service. Now, Easter is upon us. The period of abstinence, reflection and remembrance is behind us as we celebrate Christ’s victory over death, once—for ALL. (That means each and all of us.) So now what? Perhaps for the last forty days you have given up chocolate, or swearing, or social media. What happens today, and tomorrow? Has your heart been changed, as well, and left you with a renewed sense of discipline in your life? Will you continue with that “something extra”?

Fate is like a strange, unpopular restaurant filled with odd little waiters who bring you things you never asked for and don’t always like.—Lemony Snicket So many things in life defy explanation: we wind up in a place we never expected (or wanted) to, discover it is a perfect fit and decide to stay. We think we need a certain job, try like crazy to land it and fail—only to realize later that it would have been a horrible mistake. Or we meet someone, out of the blue, only to discover that we have known each other forever. Fate, we say. It must be fate. It was simply “meant to be.” There is an ancient Turkish word that also means “fate,” or “lot in life”: kismet . And that word comes from an even older Aramaic word that means, “He divides.” In life, each of us receives our lot or portion; yet before the dividing, we all were children of one Creator. Each of us has “that little bit of God” within us that desires, more than anything, to be reunited with “that little bit of G

“But still – that is our vocation: to convert . . . the enemy into a guest and to create the free and fearless space where brotherhood and sisterhood can be formed and fully experienced.” –Henri J. M. Nouwen (As we approach Easter, we will experience many “strangers in our midst.” Enjoy this week’s meditation from John Edgerton, via Still Speaking .) I love coffee hour, all my people are there.  I know who they are, they know who I am. There's coffee, sometimes there are tiny sandwiches.  It's great! But then there are those moments that gum up the works.    Newcomer moments.   Like when I'm topping off my coffee and I catch a glimpse of someone standing alone by the door—gingerly balancing a coffee cup in one hand and a plate with two sugar cookies and three loose grapes in the other looking as if they have strayed far from their comfort zone.    I always wonder what brought them to church.  Was it the Facebook posts or the community garden? That clever ser