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.
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…
It was still the first day of the week. That evening, while the disciples were behind closed doors because they were afraid of the Jewish authorities, Jesus came and stood among them. (John 20:19; context)
…Filling Up…
…Day three with the Apostle Peter (click here for day one, two)
I shut the door with Mary on the other side. Sliding the bolt home, I slumped against the door and slid to the ground. Oblivious to Mary’s pounding on the door, I looked around the room. Judas was gone, of course, but everyone else was there, I was sure. We had escaped the mob and the authorities. Would they be content with the death of our leader or would they be coming after us, too? I counted the others. Nine, and I made ten. Someone else was missing. “Where’s Thomas,” I called out.
Philip looked up for a moment and managed a one-word response. “Gone,” he said, and he put his head back into his hands. I sat with my back to the locked door. Eventually Mary gave up her pounding. I could hear her sobbing, her breath coming in great heaves. She was, no doubt, sitting against the other side of the door. Three inches of wood separated us: three inches of wood and my disbelief and the war raging within me.
Inside the room, we might have been statues. I couldn’t even hear the others breathing. Hours passed and no one noticed. No one spoke. No one ate or drank. We were entombed in the locked house, alive but acting like dead men. And all the while the war raged on while numbness froze my body against the bolted door.
The ten of us were still frozen in place when evening fell. I had been staring at nothing in particular when I began unconsciously counting the others again. “Eight. Nine. Ten.” I counted aloud, and then I put my finger to my own chest. “Eleven.” I counted again. Eleven again. I leapt up and stared at the man in the center of the room.
…to be continued tomorrow.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the life-breath of all things. Help me to invite you into the locked rooms within myself, all the places I don’t want you to see, but where you are needed most. 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…
Mary Magdalene left and announced to the disciples, “I’ve seen the Lord.” Then she told them what he said to her. (John 20:18; context)
…Filling Up…
…Day two with the Apostle Peter (click here for day one)
I was at war within myself, and I could not access a single crumb of the peace that Jesus had always radiated.
I saw the empty tomb, but the conflict within kept me blind to what the emptiness might mean. The war inside of me – with fresh reinforcements of guilt – was still raging when I returned to the house we had used a few nights before, on the night when I didn’t want Jesus to wash my feet. Nine of the others were there; they had been locked in the room since the mob had formed three days before. As I was shutting the door, Mary Magdalene rushed up and squeezed her way into the room. “I have seen the Lord,” she shouted.
She was breathing hard. I had left her standing outside the tomb, so she must have raced all the way to the house to catch up with me. I looked at Mary: her face glistened with sweat, her eyes were bright. If the conflict within had not been blinding me, I might have identified the brightness in her eyes as “joy,” but how could there ever be joy again after what had happened? The other disciples barely looked up when she burst in shouting. She looked around the room, then back at me. “He has risen from the dead,” she said, defiantly.
I took a step toward her. “Just because the tomb was empty,” I began, but my voice trailed off. She backed away, and now her voice was very small, small and wounded. “But I did see him,” she said. And I shut the door with Mary on the other side.
…to be continued tomorrow.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the life-breath of all things. Help me not to shut out possibilities that seem impossible; grant me the imagination and the elbow grease needed to remove the “im” from the word impossible. 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…
Peter and the other disciple left to go to the tomb. They were running together, but the other disciple ran faster than Peter and was the first to arrive at the tomb. Bending down to take a look, he saw the linen cloths lying there, but he didn’t go in. (John 20:3-5; context)
…Filling Up…
We’re going to change it up a little bit on devotiONEighty this week with five days of narrative. Every once in a while at my church, I preach sermons as a character from the text of the Bible. Likewise, this week on devo180, imagine with me the Apostle Peter, who is in Rome near the end of his life, talking to a friend about the day when Jesus rose from the dead and appeared to the disciples in the locked house (John 20).
I wish I could tell you that seeing the empty tomb was enough. I went inside the tomb and saw the linen cloths lying there and the cloth that had covered Jesus’ face folded up in a corner. Thinking back now, surely grave robbers would not have folded his ceremonial burial garments while stealing his body! But in the semi-darkness of that early morning, I wasn’t thinking rationally. I wasn’t thinking at all. I was numb on the outside, immune to the sliver of hope that the empty tomb brought.
I was numb on the outside, but on the inside, I was at war. I always thought of myself as his most faithful disciple, but at the time of his greatest need, I abandoned him, I lied about knowing him to save my own skin. In the garden, I had been ready to fight to the death for Jesus. But the moment he took away my sword, I crumbled. I wasn’t strong enough to remain by his side without a weapon in my hand. I wasn’t strong enough to trust him, to trust that his plan included death without fighting. I was at war within myself, and I could not access a single crumb of the peace that Jesus had always radiated.
…to be continued tomorrow.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are the life-breath of all things. Help me to believe even when I can’t see and help me to proclaim your love even when I am afraid. 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.
NOTE: DevotiONEighty is off this week. It will return next Monday, April 8th.
(Sermon for Saturday, March 30, 2013 || The Easter Vigil || Year B || Luke 24:1-12)
I doubt they slept much the last two nights, the women who rose early on the first day of the week to minister to their dead Lord. Every time they shut their eyes, I’m sure they saw the silhouette of Jesus’ cross in the distance, his limp body all but unrecognizable because of his torturous hours hanging there. And because dead bodies never, ever look like the lives ones they were a moment before; especially Jesus’ body, he who was so full of abundant life that he was just giving of his abundance to anyone who asked. No, I doubt these women slept much, though if they did finally fall into fitful slumber, it was because they cried themselves to sleep. When all you have left is your tears, you’d want to hoard them; but that’s when they flow all the more freely.
“Women at the Tomb” (Jesus Mafa – click for more info)
I’m sure the tears began again when they awoke early on the first day of the week. New grief is like that. Each morning you wake and remember again that your loved one is gone, and again the pain stabs you anew, just as fresh as the first time. But even in the midst of their grief, these women took up their burdens of fragrant spices and trudged out into the darkness, so they could arrive at the tomb at first light.
But these brave women, who are ready to care for the body of their Lord, to do their duty out of love and compassion, are making the happiest mistake in the history of mistakes. They are prepared to wash and anoint a lifeless body, but what they find is no body at all. They find an empty tomb, save for a discarded burial shroud. Their grief threatens to overwhelm them because the duty they were planning to perform – the one they had been clinging to since his death – is gone now, too. They didn’t think they could be more desolate, but they were wrong. The empty tomb magnifies their desolation.
But into this scene of despair and grief comes the sudden presence of two gleaming messengers. They enlighten the woman as to their mistake: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here, but has arisen.” Then they remind the women what Jesus had said about himself while they were all still in Galilee.
The women remember Jesus’ words, and first one, then another, then another breaks out into a tentative smile. “Could it be true?” they ask each other.
“Yes, yes, yes it could.”
“Jesus never lied to us.”
“How could we forget his words?”
Then one repeats the messengers’ question: “Why are we looking for the living among the dead?”
This question echoes down through the centuries, and we find ourselves asking it when we read the beginning of the final chapter of Luke’s account of the Gospel. Why do you look for the living among the dead? How often in our day-to-day lives could we hear the gleaming messengers asking us this question? How often do we trudge down the well-worn path to life-defeating things hoping this time – maybe this time – something life-affirming will happen?
Perhaps you’ve had a string of boyfriends who were real losers. Your friends tell you so at every opportunity, but you’ve got a blind spot for bad boys. They treat you with no respect. From time to time they’ve even called you a name that I can’t say during this sermon. And yet you meet another one and all the signs are there, but you dive in headfirst anyway. To you the gleaming messengers say, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”
Perhaps you’ve been sober for three months. Your sponsor hands you your chip and slaps you on the back. You’ve got a couple of other three-month chips in a drawer somewhere, but that’s not on your mind right now. On your way home from the meeting, you run into an old buddy from back in the day. The next morning, you stagger to the drawer and toss the newest chip in. Maybe you’ll get another one in a few months time. To you, the messengers say, “Why do you look for living among the dead?”
Perhaps you work through your family vacation because you’ve got too many projects on your plate. Or you spend every waking hour mindlessly surfing YouTube and Facebook. Or you derive your self-worth only by what others say of about you. To you – to all of us – the messengers say, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?”
The Resurrection of Jesus Christ spurred this question all those centuries ago. The women made the happy mistake of looking for a dead Christ, when the Risen One was alive again. They brought to the tomb their grief, their tears, and their emptiness. And they left them there because the power of the Risen Christ outshone any desolation left in them.
When we look for life-affirming answers in the midst of life-defeating things, we replicate the women’s happy mistake, but with none of their good intentions. When we look for the living among the dead, we are trudging the well-worn path to the newly hewn grave where a dead messiah awaits. That way is full of tears and lifelessness.
But the good news of the Resurrection is this: when we arrive at the tomb, at rock bottom, at the ends of our ropes, we will find the Living Christ shining radiantly in the midst of our dead messiahs. We will find his empty tomb, which is ready to receive all of our muck, all of our bad choices, all of our life-defeating tendencies. When we deposit all of our dead ends there, we can leave the tomb unencumbered, and chase off after the Risen Christ, fresh, free, and born anew.
This is the final Devo of the 10 part series from the last few weeks. It got pushed to today because I had a glitch last Monday that through everything off by one day. We’ll be back on track tomorrow. –Adam
…Opening To…
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus told them to go. When they saw him, they worshipped him, but some doubted. Jesus came near and spoke to them, “I’ve received all authority in heaven and on earth. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to obey everything that I’ve commanded you. Look, I myself will be with you every day until the end of this present age.” (Matthew 28:16-20; context)
…Filling Up…
Today is the last day of our ten day look at Jesus’ Resurrection appearances. We close as Matthew does, with Jesus’ final words in the Gospel. Notice that his very last words: “I will be with you every day,” echo the name that the angel Gabriel gives to him: Immanuel, which mean “God with us.” Thus, God’s presence bookends the Gospel – that’s pretty cool.
But leaving that tidbit, let’s talk about the word “therefore.”
Matthew’s account of the Gospel comes to a close, Jesus says the above words to the disciples. By the power, by the authority of Jesus, the disciples are sent out. And by the work of the disciples down through the centuries empowered by Christ, we too hear these words, we too are sent out. Jesus’ authority spurs us to go, make, and baptize. Indeed, Jesus is the author, the source of our going, our making, and our baptizing.
Scholars call this the “Great Commission,” and within this commission is also great warning. Jesus says, “Therefore, go.” The therefore makes our commissioning contingent on recognizing that everything we do because of God’s call in our lives generates from the authority given to Jesus. The day, the hour, the minute we start to think that we are ministering to people by our own authority is the time we need to take a step back, fall to our knees, and ask God for forgiveness. Paradoxically, the better we get at following Jesus, the easier we fall into the trap of failing to recognize the authority of Jesus prompting and empowering our actions.
But when we come to God in prayer or when we come to the table to receive communion, we come with empty hands and dry mouths. We come reminded that our gifts, like the gifts of bread and wine, have their source in God alone. We come not trusting in our own righteousness, but in God’s manifold and great mercies. As the body and blood of Christ nourish us, the power and authority of Christ compel us to go, make, and baptize; to trust, hope, and believe; to love, serve, and proclaim.
So go out and by your love and your loving witness, make disciples – and remember that Jesus is with you always, to the end of the ages.
…Praying For…
Dear God, I was with you while I was still in my mother’s womb and I will be with you when I pass through death into new life. Help me to remember that your presence abides in my life, and help me act out of that knowledge every day. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
With great fear and excitement, they hurried away from the tomb and ran to tell his disciples. But Jesus met them and greeted them. They came and grabbed his feet and worshipped him. Then Jesus said to them, “Don’t be afraid. Go and tell my brothers that I am going into Galilee. They will see me there.” (Matthew 28:8-10; context)
…Filling Up…
Today is the second to last day of our celebration of Jesus’ post-Resurrection appearances, and today we move to the Gospel according to Matthew to wrap up. Right before the verses above, the women have gone to the tomb and found the stone rolled away. An angel tells them: “Don’t be afraid. I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He isn’t here, because he’s been raised from the dead, just as he said. Come, see the place where they laid him. Now hurry, go and tell his disciples, ‘He’s been raised from the dead. He’s going on ahead of you to Galilee. You will see him there.’ I’ve given the message to you.”
And then the women hurry away to tell the disciples, but they run into Jesus instead. And he says almost the exact same thing the angel did a minute before. So, why the repeat dialogue? Why have the angel’s monologue and Jesus’ repetition so close together? Could it possibly be because what they told the women is so incredulous that they needed to hear it twice? Perhaps, the readers of the Gospel needed a “come again” moment. Didn’t quite catch that the first time. Come again?
Or perhaps Matthew is playing by the rules that he sets on Jesus’ lips ten chapters before. Jesus says, “If your brother or sister sins against you, go and correct them when you are alone together. If they listen to you, then you’ve won over your brother or sister. But if they won’t listen, take with you one or two others so that every word may be established by the mouth of two or three witnesses” (Matthew 18:16-17).
Matthew uses the angel’s and Jesus’ testimony as proof of the Resurrection that would essentially hold up in court (the two witnesses thing). The thing is – they might have been the first to declare the Resurrection, but they certainly weren’t the last. God calls us to be witnesses to the Resurrection even now.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your Son rose from the dead to show us that death would never again have power over us. Help me to proclaim the grace of the eternal relationship that you yearn to have with each of us through the power of the Resurrection. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
Jesus said to them, “These are my words that I spoke to you while I was still with you—that everything written about me in the Law from Moses, the Prophets, and the Psalms must be fulfilled.” Then he opened their minds to understand the scriptures. He said to them, “This is what is written: the Christ will suffer and rise from the dead on the third day, and a change of heart and life for the forgiveness of sins must be preached in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem. You are witnesses of these things. Look, I’m sending to you what my Father promised, but you are to stay in the city until you have been furnished with heavenly power.” (Luke 24:44-49; context)
…Filling Up…
Day eight of ten of our celebration of the Resurrection and our last day with Luke’s account of the Gospel. The verses above are the hinges that link the Gospel according to Luke with the Acts of the Apostles, which is Luke’s sequel. (This gets confusing when looking at the way the Bible is laid out because John interrupts Luke’s story.)
Notice here that Jesus links the past with the future through his words. He reminds the disciples that he let them know what would happen way back before any of it went down. But they didn’t understand then, so he makes sure they understand now. In the Gospel’s version of the Vulcan mindmeld,* Jesus opens their minds to all the stuff about him (just as he had down with the two disciples on the road to Emmaus).
Then he gives them a charge to preach forgiveness to all the nations, beginning in Jerusalem. He echoes this charge at the beginning of Acts (since the last chapter of Luke and first chapter of Acts overlap). This charge happens in the present.
Then he moves to the future: “Look, I’m sending to you what my Father promised, but you are to stay in the city until you have been furnished with heavenly power.” With these words, Jesus lets them know that the Holy Spirit is coming to empower their lives – but not until after Jesus ascends to heaven.
With this passage, Luke links his two books, which are really just one long story. There’s the past, the present, and the future. And then there’s us – followers of Jesus spiritually descended from those first followers. We, too, are Jesus’ witnesses. We, too, have the “heavenly power” within us. We, too, are called to preach forgiveness and reconciliation. So let’s get out there and go.
…Praying For…
Dear God, your Son gave us a mission and the power to fulfill it. Help me to live everyday of my life with your call pulling my heart where you would lead. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
* Mindmeld. Sorry, non-Trek fans for throwing that bit of vocab at you.
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
While they were saying these things, Jesus himself stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” They were terrified and afraid. They thought they were seeing a ghost. He said to them, “Why are you startled? Why are doubts arising in your hearts? Look at my hands and my feet. It’s really me! Touch me and see, for a ghost doesn’t have flesh and bones like you see I have.” As he said this, he showed them his hands and feet. Because they were wondering and questioning in the midst of their happiness, he said to them, “Do you have anything to eat?” They gave him a piece of baked fish. Taking it, he ate it in front of them. (Luke 24:36-43; context)
…Filling Up…
Today is day seven of ten with the Resurrection appearances. Notice how similar the scene above is to its analog in the Gospel according to John. Jesus stands among the disciples, declares peace to them, then shows them his wounds because they need just a little more before they trust that it’s really him.
But Luke takes the scene one step further – to prove that he really does have internal organs, especially an esophagus, stomach, and intestines, Jesus eats some fish in their presence. (Jesus roasts fish on the beach in John’s account, so there’s a bit of a parallel there, too). I can just see the disciples walking around Jesus, examining him, perhaps seeing if they could put their hands through his ghostly immateriality. But, he’s not a ghost, of course. He’s really there – a physical being and yet more than a physical being because he’s also a resurrected being. Maybe that’s why they had trouble believing it was really him – because in the Resurrection, Jesus was more than himself.
Or to put it another way, in the Resurrected Jesus, the disciples could see more clearly the kingdom of God made known on earth. No wonder they had trouble deciding if he was really human. He was really human – fully human in a way no human had ever been. In seeing him in the power of the Resurrection, they realized how far they still had to go on the path, how much more they could be, how much more growing God had in store for them.
When we meet Jesus in our lives, how often does the encounter end without us desiring to change for the better? I think the safe answer is never. That’s because the power of the Resurrection pulls us closer to the God who makes us better than ourselves just by bringing us into God’s presence.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you sent your Son to earth to show us what you dreamed for humanity. Help me to live as part of that dream, drawing on the riches of Christ’s grace to be the best version of myself I can be every day of my life. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
My apologies for missing the Devo yesterday. There was a glitch that I didn’t catch until late (actually, my mother caught it when she texted me wondering if I was okay.) So here is yesterday’s Devo today — this week will all be pushed back one day and the final Devo of the series will run next Monday. Again, sorry about yesterday. –Adam
…Opening To…
A marvelous and mighty paradox has thus occurred, for the death which they thought to inflict on Him as dishonor and disgrace has become the glorious monument to death’s defeat. (St. Athanasius)
…Listening In…
Then Jesus said to them, “You foolish people! Your dull minds keep you from believing all that the prophets talked about. Wasn’t it necessary for the Christ to suffer these things and then enter into his glory?” Then he interpreted for them the things written about himself in all the scriptures, starting with Moses and going through all the Prophets. (Luke 24:25-27; context)
…Filling Up…
Week two of our celebration of the Resurrection, `cause one week just isn’t enough. (At church, it takes seven.) Last week we were in John all week because John has the most fully realized resurrection appearances. This week we’ll touch on Luke and Matthew. (Mark doesn’t have any.) So, without further ado, what you read a moment ago is from Luke’s wonderful, amazing, fantastic, and other-words-that-mean-really-great story about Jesus meeting two of his followers on the road to Emmaus.
Many, many things make this one of the loveliest stories in the Gospel, not the least of which is Jesus appearing to these two people – Cleopas and an unnamed companion – who are essentially nobodies in the Gospel. This is their one and only appearance. They have followed Jesus; they even number themselves as members of the “group” to whom the women who went to the tomb belong. And yet they never take center stage until now.
And it is to these unsung disciples that Jesus opens up the scriptures. He tells them all about himself using the words of the prophets of old. And still they don’t recognize him. Not until he breaks bread with them at the table that evening. Then their eyes see him and they realize how their hearts had been burning within them when he was teaching them on the road.
Sometimes, we don’t realize that we’ve had encounters with Jesus until later, until something jostles our faith into the right spiritual alignment to notice Christ on the road with us. But the truth is that Jesus is always on the road with us, always speaking truth into our hearts, always making us burn with fire. We just need to have the eyes the disciples had when they communed with him.
…Praying For…
Dear God, you are always walking the way with me. Help me to follow where your footsteps lead and always along the paths that lead to life and light. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.
…Sending Out…
I leave this moment with you, God, rejoicing that you raised your Son from the dead and showed me that nothing in all of creation can separate me from your love.
…Opening To…
Where the Wind... 