On Sunday, I promised a fuller discussion of the use of the term “the Jews” in the Gospel According to John. Here it is. What follows is a lightly edited and expanded section from my seminary thesis on the “Fourth Gospel,” which my outside reader, the truly wonderful Brian McLaren, encouraged me to include in the final manuscript. Previous to the inclusion of this section, I had footnoted the use of the term “the Jews,” but back in 2008 Brian rightly identified it as more important than a mere footnote.
After the turmoil in Charlottesville, VA where white supremacists were heard chanting anti-Semitic slogans, I now have firsthand knowledge as to why Brian urged me to add it to the final draft. To all my Jewish friends, please know I stand with you in denouncing the hateful and disturbing rhetoric of those white nationalists, Klan members, and neo-Nazis, whom you have been attacked by for years and years, but to whom many of us Christians are only now and belatedly waking up. For not speaking out sooner, I seek your forgiveness.Continue reading ““The Jews” in John’s Gospel”→
Since November 2009, I have been blessed to work with the good people at Abingdon Press to publish a variety of books and Bible studies. My first book, Digital Disciple, arrived in May 2011, and my most recent publication, Unusual Gospel for Unusual People, came out in April 2014. In between, I wrote the novel Letters from Ruby (August 2013) and contributed to the Converge series of Bible studies with Who is Jesus?
If you enjoy the content on this website and receive words of edification or encouragement from it, then I invite you to check out my published works. Here’s a quick overview of them, beginning with the most recent.
Unusual Gospel for Unusual People
It’s probably time for those of us who follow Jesus to realize we are once again the unusual ones in society. Sure, a majority of Americans profess a belief in God and identify as some sort of Christian, but there’s a big difference between checking “Christianity” on the census form and living your life as a follower of Jesus. People who strive to follow Jesus every day of their lives are fewer and farther between than at any point in history since the early church was still illegal. How many of us feel a bit weird talking about our faith in public? How many of us know the dialogue to old Friends episodes better than we know the stories that feed our faith? How many of us want to dedicate ourselves to Christ, but have trouble finding the time? If you’re like me, and you put yourselves in one or more of these categories, then the story you should read is this unusual Gospel of John.
The peculiar way John proclaims the good news of Jesus Christ speaks beautifully to our modern moment, especially to us unusual people. It probably hasn’t escaped your notice that it’s pretty different from Matthew, Mark, and Luke. It paints the same general picture, yes, but John uses different brushes, different techniques, and different colors than the others. There are no parables in John. Neither are there traditional healing stories nor demonic encounters nor transfiguration. The big moment in the upper room is washing the disciples’ feet, not offering them communion. Flipping over the moneychangers’ tables happens at the beginning, not the end. And Jesus never once keeps his divine identity a secret, as he does in the other three accounts. Let’s face it: John’s account of the Gospel is just plain unusual. Just like us.
Letters from Ruby
When the newly ordained Episcopal priest Rev. Calvin Harper arrives in Victory, West Virginia, to be the pastor at an ailing parish, he has no idea how much he still has to learn about being a priest. Thankfully, Ruby Redding takes the young man under her wing and teaches him everything she has learned throughout her long, storied life. Seminary never taught Calvin that the only true way to be a witness to God’s presence in this world is to remain in relationships with people no matter what life throws at them. His studies never taught him that detachment is the bane of ministry. He never learned that deep grief comes only from deep love. But in his first year in Victory, Calvin learns all this and more from Ruby, a woman so full of God’s light that it can’t help but spill onto the people around her.
Converge: Who is Jesus?
Have you ever stopped to think just how much better Jesus Christ knows you than you know him? It’s a pretty staggering thought really. Not only that, Jesus knows you better than you know yourself. And although you’ll never know Jesus as well as he knows you, part of following the Son of God is getting to know him better. But you don’t want to fall into the trap of learning stuff “about” Jesus. Rather, you want to know Jesus himself. This study invites you to get to know four elements of what makes Jesus who he is: his name, his voice, his life, and his peace. In Who Is Jesus? you’ll discover that the more you know Jesus, the more Jesus will teach you who you are.
Digital Disciple
This time in our society is unlike any other. People communicate daily without ever having to speak face to face, news breaks around the world in a matter of seconds, and favorite TV shows can be viewed at our convenience. We are, simultaneously, a people of connection and isolation. As Christians, how do we view our faith and personal ministry in this culture? Adam Thomas invites you to explore this question using his unique, personal, and often humorous insight. Thomas notes, “[The Internet] has added a new dimension to our lives; we are physical, emotional, spiritual, and now virtual people. But I believe that God continues to move through every facet of our existence, and that makes us new kinds of followers. We are digital disciples.”
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Titles also available at your local bookstore or online at Amazon or Barnes and Noble. (But go to your local independent bookstore if you have one, because they are awesome.)
We limit not the truth of God to our poor reach of mind,
To notions of our day and place, crude, partial, and confined;
No, let a new and better hope within our hearts be stirred;
The Lord has yet more light and truth to break forth from his word. (George Rawson)
…Listening In…
This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. (John 15:12-13; context)
…Filling Up…
Moving down my old guitar case, we come to the sixth verse, which is wedged in diagonally right where the body of the case starts getting wider. I imagine that I taped this verse to the guitar case sometime around Easter one year during college. Jesus speaks these words to his disciples (whom immediately after this he calls “friends”) during his long speech right before he is betrayed, accused, convicted, and killed. So the words here are immediate. Jesus is telling his disciples just how much he loves them (and us) – enough to sacrifice himself in order that they (and we) might have access to that same love.
But beyond the immediate context of Jesus’ final meal with his friends, the words speed through the centuries and lodge themselves into our hearts. Notice that he commands his disciples to love one another. Jesus doesn’t command them to do very many things, but this is one thing he commands them to do on multiple occasions. Does it seem strange to you that he would command one to love another? It might, especially if you think of love primarily as an emotion. “I can’t help loving who I love and not loving who I don’t,” we might protest.
But love is not primarily an emotion. Love is a state of being. Love is the word we use for the voluntary conviction that propels us to step outside of our selfish selves and to discover the riches of building up one another, of finding mutuality, of respecting difference, of speaking out against intolerance and hate. If you’ve read the Harry Potter series, you know that Albus Dumbledore tells Harry on multiple occasions that Harry’s greatest gift is his ability to love. This gift compels Harry into many difficult circumstances, but it also strengthens him to face the challenges before him. If this love were a simple emotion, Harry would never have sustained it for so long, even to the point of his own sacrifice. J.K. Rowling knows that love is not just an emotion.
And so does Jesus. When he commands us to love, he gives us the opportunity to find the state of being that allows us to see a glimpse into God’s own being.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your Son commanded us to love as he loves. Help me to find the conviction to live a life where love is at the center of all my actions. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, grateful for the opportunity to reflect on your word and looking forward to discovering its impact on my life.
For life, with all it yields of joy and woe
And hope and fear,—believe the aged friend,—
Is just our chance o’ the prize of learning love. (Robert Browning, “A Death in the Desert”)
…Listening In…
I came so that they could have life—indeed, so that they could live life to the fullest. (John 10:10; context)
…Filling Up…
When we accept that eternal life happens even as we live our earthly lives, we can begin to see the corner of the edge of the expanse of the abundance that God offers to us. When we turn off the autopilot, we can break out of the rut of living vaguely, indistinctly – which, in truth, is not really living, but merely existing. Jesus offers us abundant life, but choosing abundance is not a one-time decision. Rather, the choice is akin to choosing your child’s name. You pick it once; you write it on the birth certificate once. But then you call your child that name for the rest of his or her life.
In the same way, choosing abundance involves actively naming the paths down which our decisions and our outlooks can lead us. We can walk down the path of scarcity or the path of abundance, the path of fear or the path of love, the path of destruction or the path of creation, the path of despair or the path of joy. Choosing abundance means that we follow Jesus down the life-affirming paths of love, creation, and joy. He’ll be with us either way, I firmly believe, but when we follow our own wills down the life-denying paths of fear, destruction, and despair, then Jesus needs to trample through the undergrowth to retrieve us. The good news is this: no matter how far down the life-denying paths we find ourselves, simply turning around makes them life-affirming paths. (The reverse is also true, but let’s not dwell on that now.)
When we choose abundance, we participate in the fullness of the eternal life that God yearns for each of us. Living this kind of life keeps us from lapsing into the background of existence. So choose to accept the gift of living fully into the being that God has made. Choose abundance. After all, God has already chosen you.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the source of all life and the cause of creation. Help me to live my life so that I always trend toward the life-affirming path of abundance, love, creation, and joy. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, ready to step into the spotlight of my life and shine in the brilliance of your presence.
For life, with all it yields of joy and woe
And hope and fear,—believe the aged friend,—
Is just our chance o’ the prize of learning love. (Robert Browning, “A Death in the Desert”)
…Listening In…
When Jesus finished saying these things, he looked up to heaven and said, “Father, the time has come. Glorify your Son, so that the Son can glorify you. You gave him authority over everyone so that he could give eternal life to everyone you gave him. This is eternal life: to know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom you sent.” (John 17:1-3; context)
…Filling Up…
There’s a common misconception among Christians that the “eternal life” that Jesus promises doesn’t begin until after we die. This thinking has led Christians of different persuasions down varying paths. Some have decided that eternal life must be earned and set about attempting to stock up points in the win column. Others have decided that eternal life includes time after we die in a place of trials intended to, once and for all, wash sin away; what we do on earth can contribute to the length of our stay in this place labeled “purgatory,” but pretty much everyone is going to have to serve time. (But don’t worry, proponents say, the eternal nature of life means that those years spent being “purged” are just a drop in the bucket.) Still others have gone to the opposite extreme, citing the fact that it doesn’t matter what we do on earth because Jesus’ act of sacrificial redemption is good enough to cover everything that is necessary for eternal life.
Whether or not you subscribe to one or more or none of these types of doctrines, they all have one thing in common; they draw a line between life here on earth and “eternal” life in the hereafter. But if you look at Jesus’ prayer above, you’ll notice that he makes no such distinction. You don’t have to wait for death for eternal life to begin. The very notion of something “eternal” beginning doesn’t really make since if you think about it. Eternal things just are. If they had to begin, they wouldn’t be eternal. (I’m aware that the last few sentences could lead to some very interesting discussions, but we don’t have space to have them just now.)
Here’s what I’m getting at: if we mistakenly wait for death for our eternal lives to begin, we are missing out in the here and now on the abundance that Jesus offers us when we share in his life. Waiting for death before we access eternity can actually lead us away from life and into the vagueness of mere existence. But accepting that we have eternal life – now, here – can lead us to find the fullness of the life that Christ gives us to share in.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the eternal presence that frames existence and the creative presence that breathes life into being. Help me to know you, and in knowing you, find the eternal, abundant life that you offer to all. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, ready to step into the spotlight of my life and shine in the brilliance of your presence.
For life, with all it yields of joy and woe
And hope and fear,—believe the aged friend,—
Is just our chance o’ the prize of learning love. (Robert Browning, “A Death in the Desert”)
…Listening In…
In Jerusalem near the sheep gate in the north city wall is a pool with the Aramaic name Bethsaida… A certain man was there who had been sick for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there, knowing that he had already been there a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well? (John 5:1, 5-6; context)
…Filling Up…
The next time you watch TV, take note of the fact that the camera can only focus on things at one particular distance away from it. Your eyes will be drawn to what is “in focus,” whether the camera focuses on the foreground, the middleground, or the background. Directors use various foci when filming to help tell the story: a character in the middleground might be in focus at the beginning of a scene, but then the camera will adjust to an object in the foreground, showing the audience that the character is looking intently at the object. Rarely is the background the focus of the scene. You can see what is there, but usually objects in the background are indistinct and fuzzy. The characters who stand in front of it are moving and vibrant – and in focus.
It’s quite easy to fall into patterns that lead us to exist solely in this indistinct background part of our own lives. We go about our daily routines: we get up, brush our teeth, shower, go to school or work, come home, watch NCIS, brush our teeth again, and go to bed. And then we do it again tomorrow (except that we have to wait till next week for NCIS). Now, routines aren’t bad or evil – in fact, they can be quite comforting, and some folk need the stability they offer more than they need anything else. But when routine becomes rut, and we do the things we do simply because they offer the path of least resistance, then we will have lapsed into the backgrounds of our own lives. We will have become indistinct, fuzzy versions of ourselves that exist as part of the scenery and not the action.
There’s a reason that this scenery is called “sets.” Everything is set, in place, not going anywhere. But God, I don’t think, let’s us stay “set.” God moves in both the backgrounds and foregrounds of our lives, and this movement pushes and pulls us into sharper focus. We can, of course, continue to exist as fuzzy background filler. But wouldn’t it be better to live in focus?
…Praying For…
Dear God, focusing on you brings my life into sharper focus. Help me to be attentive to your movement so that I may resist the wearying forces of existence that pull me into the background. In Jesus Christ’s name I pay. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, ready to step into the spotlight of my life and shine in the brilliance of your presence.
(NOTE: I completely forgot to post my sermon on Sunday, so here it is, two days belated. Devo180 will be back tomorrow.)
(Sermon for Sunday, April 14, 2013 || Easter 3C || John 21:1-19)
I can only imagine the maelstrom of thoughts roiling in Simon Peter’s head in the weeks following Jesus’ resurrection. At the last supper, he promised Jesus: “I will lay down my life for you.” He was willing to draw blood when they came to arrest Jesus in the garden. He followed Jesus all the way to the gate of the high priest’s house. And then everything fell apart. People began recognizing him and he felt afraid and in his fear he did something he never dreamed he would do, not even in his worst nightmare.
But this was worse than his worst nightmare. “Aren’t you one of his disciples?” I am not. “Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?” No. “You are one of his disciples.” I am not. And at that moment the rooster crowed, signaling the dawn. But Simon Peter remained in the night with his denial – afraid, ashamed, broken. The nickname Simon received from Jesus when they first met – the nickname Peter, “Rock” – must have haunted him from that moment on. How could a rock be so inconstant? He was supposed to be steadfast, strong; but in the moment of decision, he crumbled. As I said, I can only imagine the maelstrom of thoughts roiling in Simon Peter’s head in the weeks following Jesus’ resurrection.
So to quiet the storm raging within, even for just a short time, it makes sense for Peter to suggest a fishing trip – something normal to take his mind off things. He and his friends fish all night but catch nothing. Even though Peter has met the Risen Christ, Peter himself is still shackled to the night, where his shame and fear have kept him since his denial. No wonder he didn’t catch any fish. But then day breaks, and Jesus calls to him from the beach. He and his friends let down the net one more time and catch more fish than they know what to do with.
They bring the catch ashore and have breakfast around a charcoal fire with Jesus. Peter gazes into the flames, and suddenly his maelstrom of thoughts transports him back to another charcoal fire, around which he warmed himself – and denied his Lord. He is still lost in the night of his regret, his fear, and his brokenness. Though a new dawn has come, Peter cannot bring himself to step into the light. He sits around the fire with Jesus and the rest, but he himself is far away, reliving the nightmare.
And so when Jesus says his name, Simon Peter flinches out of his daydream and returns to the present. “Do you love me?” Jesus asks him. Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. “Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. “Do you love me?” And with the third question, a wave of sadness washes over Simon Peter because he realizes what Jesus is doing. The sadness is the echo of the nightmare, the last vestige of the darkness Peter has been mired in. Lord, you know everything (including my shame and my guilt and my brokenness); and you know that I love you.
Jesus gives Peter the opportunity to affirm their relationship three times, once for each denial; and with that, they are reconciled. Peter’s love for his Lord trumps his fear and his brokenness, and he finally steps from the night into the day. This reconciliation shines with the good news of the resurrection. The Risen Christ meets Peter in his brokenness and reaffirms their relationship. The Risen Christ meets us in the same place – in our fear and our brokenness – and affirms that nothing in all creation, not even death, can separate us from his love.
But Jesus is only half done with Peter and with us, because Jesus takes this reconciliation one step further. Jesus doesn’t just heal Peter’s brokenness and leave it at that. If he had, then Peter would have no direction to travel, nowhere to bring his healed heart. So Jesus renews their relationship and then gives Peter a mission. “Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. “Feed my lambs… Tend my sheep… Feed my sheep.”
Jesus knows that Peter, despite his nickname, has shown inconstancy in the past. Jesus knows that Peter once crumbled because of fear. Jesus knows that Peter isn’t perfect. And still, Jesus affirms their relationship, binds himself to Peter in love, and gives him a mission. The Risen Christ gathers to himself all of Peter’s fear and brokenness and says, “This stuff will not hold you back from doing my work. This stuff may rear its head from time to time, but it will not win. This stuff is now mine, and in its place you can have my love and the promise of eternal relationship with me.”
Sounds like a pretty good deal. Imagine someone coming up to you and saying, “You give me all your junk, everything about yourself that you don’t like or you don’t want, and I’ll give you the most precious thing in the world.”
That’s what Jesus did on the beach with Peter after breakfast. And in the power of the resurrection, that’s what Jesus does with each of us. And after we make such an unbalanced trade, Jesus invites us to join him in a mission. Feed. Tend. Listen. Support. Help. Love. Serve.
If we listen for the Risen Christ’s call in our lives, we will each hear something a little different because Jesus knows what sets each of our hearts on fire. And Jesus knows where the world most needs us to serve. He combines the two and then sails these unique calls to us on the wind of the Holy Spirit. And if we listen for that wind whispering in our hearts, we will hear the call. Peter heard the call to feed God’s sheep. I hear the call to proclaim God’s presence in our lives. What do you hear? What is Jesus healing you to do?
In our story today, Jesus heals Peter with love. This love propels Peter into service. And this service brings healing to all of God’s people. And thus the cycle renews. On down through the ages, God has propelled this cycle of healing, loving, and serving. Now we are the inheritors of the legacy of this chat on the beach after breakfast. The Risen Christ sits with us across our kitchen counters after a bowl of oatmeal – the most ordinary of moments, mind you – and offers us his love, his healing, and his mission.
“Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Then notice me healing your brokenness.
“Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Then feel my love binding us together.
“Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Then go out and serve in my name.
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can… (J.R.R. Tolkein, The Lord of the Rings)
…Listening In…
Jesus said, “…You know the way to the place I’m going.” Thomas asked, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” Jesus answered, “I am the way, the truth, and the life…” (John 14:4-6; context)
…Filling Up…
Jesus has been talking for a bit when Thomas interrupts him with a question: “Lord, we don’t know where you are going. How can we know the way?” In response to this, Jesus says his oft-quoted line: “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” What gets a little lost in the translation is the possibility that Jesus is making a bit of a joke – a pun really – in the midst of a fairly serious discussion.
You see, the word that is translated “way” is also the word for “road.” So when Thomas asks Jesus his question, he may very well be wondering about the literal “road” they should be taking. After all, they’ve been walking all over the place. The disciples often take Jesus too literally, and then Jesus spends a few moments trying to inject some imagination into their understanding. Whether or not Thomas is wondering about a literal road, Jesus doesn’t dwell on the literal. With the full weight of his divinely oriented “I am” statements behind it, he says that he himself is the Road.
Of course, Jesus isn’t cobblestones or asphalt, so he is taking Thomas’ perhaps literal question and bringing it into a metaphorical space. Jesus is the road in the sense of “the thing that guides your feet from here to there.”
This week, we are talking about roads, specifically about Jesus meeting people on roads and about what happens next. So stay tuned.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are always to be found no matter where my feet take me. Help me to recognize your presence while walking down whatever road is ahead of me. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, strengthened by your love and able to walk another day on weary feet
For a second after Aslan breathed upon him the stone lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back — then it spread — then the colour seemed to lick all over him as the flame licked all over a bit of paper — then, while his hind-quarters were still obviously stone the lion shook his mane and all the heavy, stony folds rippled into living hair. (C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe)
…Listening In…
Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father sent me, so I am sending you.” Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” (John 20:21-22; context)
…Filling Up…
…Day five with the Apostle Peter (click here for day one, two, three, four)
“As the Father sent me, so I am sending you,” he continued. With these words, we, who had been as still as statues mere minutes before, all leaned in, like trees bending toward the sunlight. And he exhaled a deep, cleansing breath, then another and another. As he breathed out, I breathed in. I breathed in his breath, the wind of his life. I breathed in the words he had spoken twice since his arrival, the very peace that he proclaimed, that he radiated. This was Jesus, and he was alive, and he was breathing life back into us, into the ones who had entombed ourselves in that locked house.
As we leaned closer, Jesus said, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” And his breath washed over me, into me, through me. His Spirit brought peace to the war raging within. His breath blew across the faint glow of hope, turning the glow into a spark, and the spark into a flame, and the flame into a fire. And the fire set my heart alight with all the fervor of rekindled belief in this Jesus, this risen Lord, this one who would not abandon me to the grave even after I had abandoned him to die.
I tell you, friend, that in the years since that day, my daydreams have often brought me back to that moment when Jesus breathed his Spirit into me. When I am in distress, when I am in grief, when I forget that I believe that I am with God, I can take a breath. And I will remember that I am breathing in the peace that our Lord has given to each of us, the peace that passes all my ability to understand and lodges where I need that peace the most – in the secret places within where the war still rages from time to time. You see, every time I take a breath, and, for that matter, every time you take a breath, we are not only filling up our lungs with air. We are filling up our souls with the Holy Spirit of God, who continues to breathe into us the new life of the Risen Christ.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the life-breath of all things. Thank you for the Holy Spirit that you breathe into my soul, so that I can know on a level beyond knowing that you are sustaining me with your life. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, feeling you breathe the peace that passes all understanding into my heart and soul.
For a second after Aslan breathed upon him the stone lion looked just the same. Then a tiny streak of gold began to run along his white marble back — then it spread — then the colour seemed to lick all over him as the flame licked all over a bit of paper — then, while his hind-quarters were still obviously stone the lion shook his mane and all the heavy, stony folds rippled into living hair. (C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe)
…Listening In…
He said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. When the disciples saw the Lord, they were filled with joy. (John 20:19-20; context)
…Filling Up…
…Day four with the Apostle Peter (click here for day one, two, three)
I leapt up and stared at the man in the center of the room. He was slowly spinning in a circle, studying each statue in turn. I looked where he was looking: at the hollow eyes, at the sunken cheeks, at the dried up streams of tears that had washed clean lines on dirty faces.
As far as I could tell, I was the only one who had noticed his presence. Since my rational mind was still turned off, I didn’t even wonder how someone else had entered the room while I was sitting against the locked door. I just stared at him, uncomprehending, but the sliver of hope that lay dormant in me since the tomb was beginning to glow. Then he said, “Peace be with you.”
They were the first words spoken since Philip’s one-word response to my question hours earlier. The words rang out, and the others began to stir. They raised their heads. Some stood up. The man walked over to me, gripped my arm in a firm grasp, and I noticed fresh wounds that cut through both of his wrists. He went around the room clasping the others’ shoulders and lifting their chins with his fingers. “He can’t be,” I said, as the war of guilt and pain and loss continued to rage within me, stronger now that the faint glow of hope was illuminating the battlefield.
The man heard me and turned to face my direction. “Peace be with you,” he said again. We were all standing now. The room, so empty a moment before, seemed full now, but not full enough for him. He gestured to me. I turned, unbolted the lock, and opened the door. Mary, still slumped against the other side, fell into the room. I helped her to her feet. “Is he?” I whispered to her. She looked from the man to me, and she beamed at me through brimming eyes.
…to be concluded tomorrow.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the life-breath of all things. Help me feel the peace you are speaking into my heart, so that I may show that peace forth to others. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, feeling you breathe the peace that passes all understanding into my heart and soul.
…Opening To…
But Jesus is only half done with Peter and with us, because Jesus takes this reconciliation one step further. Jesus doesn’t just heal Peter’s brokenness and leave it at that. If he had, then Peter would have no direction to travel, nowhere to bring his healed heart. So Jesus renews their relationship and then gives Peter a mission. “Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, you know that I love you. “Feed my lambs… Tend my sheep… Feed my sheep.”
Where the Wind... 