- Acts 2: 14, 22-33
- Psalms 16: 1-2, 5, 7-8, 9-10, 11
- 1 Peter 1: 17-21
- Luke 24: 13-35
- My flesh will dwell in hope
- The three cardinal virtues are faith, hope, and love. Hope has two faces: expectation that God offers us union with Him, and the longing for that union. We believe that our spirits are destined for eternity. In contrast, the long term outlook for our mortal bodies is rather bleak, or is it?
- Think of times when someone or some community has really touched you, communicated something of the transcendent love of God to you?
- What role did your flesh play in that exchange of gifts?
- What did you offer as your response to that gift?
- How do you think such exchanges will occur in heaven?
- Fear of abandonment
- The fear that others will leave you, leave you helpless, leave you alone afflicts many who were not properly cared for early in life. They grow up too fast, learn to be self-sufficient in a hurtful, suspicious way, and give up on the rest of humanity.
- One could argue that the cynic who concludes that none of us can every really count on anyone else will not be disappointed because their expectations are so low. How much help do you count on in this life?
- Where do you think the most reliable sources for help are in your life?
- If some calamity occurred in your life, and there seemed to be no help coming, would you be disappointed in your family and friends, or in God?
- If God offered you the option to gain the strength and courage for a hard time, or just make the hardship go away, which would you choose?
- How do you think that would make you a better person?
- You gotta have faith
- Based on your faith, what are some things that God would never do?
- How would you know that was God behind that calamity?
- How would you respond if something like that actually happened?
- How do you think God feels about that?
- Conversion
- As an instructor, I gain my greatest sense of fulfillment when a student suddenly gets that last piece of the puzzle and everything fits for them. We call those "aha" moments. You have to prepare for them though, with plenty of instruction and hands on experience.
- Have you ever suddenly seen things in a whole new light? The experiences, memory and knowledge remain the same, but suddenly, the meaning is transformed, a resurrection of your heart occurs.
- How did you prepare for that epiphany?
- How did it change you?
- How do you benefit from that visitation today?
- Preparation for Reconciliation
- What do I hope for?
- Who or what am I counting on for protection?
- What do I count on God for?
- Where is God trying to change my heart and mind today?
Too Tired to Hope
We had heard about poor Judas.
He was always the practical one, looking after the things the rest of us did not.
Looking back now, we realized that he feared, more than the rest of us,
That Jesus would pass quietly into obscurity,
And disappear from the landscape of history.
Judas felt that Jesus, with his message of quiet hope,
Would never inspire, never utter the desperately needed battle cry,
Never unite our people, make us one again, heal our nation,
And most of all, by some miracle, bring our nation back to life
Like the old prophecies in Ezekiel.
Then, when Judas saw his betrayal of Jesus in another light,
Judas lost hope,
Never realizing that Jesus was the God of Mercy,
And this second loss of hope was far worse than the first
And Judas could not face a life without hope.
These last days have been brutal.
Watching Him die, our hopes with Him.
Friends and family looking at us with pity and contempt.
Staying close to the old disciples for want of anything else to to.
We finally tired of stasis and left for Emmaus.
Hearts and minds in a fog of misery
Too tired to ask "what's next" or
"How will we continue?"
Because the answers were just too painful
And just too obvious.
At least the walking gives us a purpose, a direction.
Something to do with our feet, our aching hearts.
Meditation, prayer, even speech
Is too painful, too useless.
And then a clueless stranger joined us.
No matter how heavy our hearts,
We still have to eat.
Still remembering the last Passover,
And with it all of the Passovers before,
Each a breaking of bread, each a celebration of then and now.
Bread in His hands, offered us in generosity.
Suddenly all the prayers, the laughter, the songs,
The pilgrimages to Jerusalem,
The smoke of sacrifices, the perfume of incense
Made sense in a whole new way.
And He vanished.
Leaving in His wake, purpose, determination, life.
Through the gathering gloom of the end of day,
Our joy sprinted back to Jerusalem,
To share the unfathomable with our brothers and sisters.
Shalom!
He was always the practical one, looking after the things the rest of us did not.
Looking back now, we realized that he feared, more than the rest of us,
That Jesus would pass quietly into obscurity,
And disappear from the landscape of history.
Judas felt that Jesus, with his message of quiet hope,
Would never inspire, never utter the desperately needed battle cry,
Never unite our people, make us one again, heal our nation,
And most of all, by some miracle, bring our nation back to life
Like the old prophecies in Ezekiel.
Then, when Judas saw his betrayal of Jesus in another light,
Judas lost hope,
Never realizing that Jesus was the God of Mercy,
And this second loss of hope was far worse than the first
And Judas could not face a life without hope.
These last days have been brutal.
Watching Him die, our hopes with Him.
Friends and family looking at us with pity and contempt.
Staying close to the old disciples for want of anything else to to.
We finally tired of stasis and left for Emmaus.
Hearts and minds in a fog of misery
Too tired to ask "what's next" or
"How will we continue?"
Because the answers were just too painful
And just too obvious.
At least the walking gives us a purpose, a direction.
Something to do with our feet, our aching hearts.
Meditation, prayer, even speech
Is too painful, too useless.
And then a clueless stranger joined us.
No matter how heavy our hearts,
We still have to eat.
Still remembering the last Passover,
And with it all of the Passovers before,
Each a breaking of bread, each a celebration of then and now.
Bread in His hands, offered us in generosity.
Suddenly all the prayers, the laughter, the songs,
The pilgrimages to Jerusalem,
The smoke of sacrifices, the perfume of incense
Made sense in a whole new way.
And He vanished.
Leaving in His wake, purpose, determination, life.
Through the gathering gloom of the end of day,
Our joy sprinted back to Jerusalem,
To share the unfathomable with our brothers and sisters.
Shalom!
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