Lord Jesus, risen from the dead and alive for evermore. Stand in our midst this morning as in the upper room; show us your hands and your side; speak your peace to our hearts and minds; and send us out into the world as your witnesses, to the glory of your name. Amen. (John Stott)
May he rest in peace and rise in glory!
Almighty God, we praise you for creating all things in your image: muggles and wizards, beasts and humans, the magical and the mundane.
Grant us, O Lord, to trust in you with all our hearts. Remind us that our hope does not lie in philosopher’s stones or deathly hallows, but only in your hallowed name.
Merciful God, teach us to walk humbly. We confess that we often raise our wands at the evil we see in the world, ignoring the darkness lurking in ourselves.
Forgive us for creating social systems that marginalize and oppress. Stir our hearts to build relationships with house elves, muggles, squibs, and all who are made vulnerable by injustice. Give us courage to advocate on their behalf, confronting those who would exclude them from our communities...
Read it all at sojo.net!
We didn't know Jesus being called the “Son of Man” was so confusing. But the publishers of the Common English Bible translation want to clear up anything and everything that can confuse those inclined to dive into the Bible, so “Son of Man” now reads “the Human One.” Not exactly poetic, but arguably modern.
In an effort not only to make the Bible more accessible to modern readers, but also to appease both conservative and liberal denominations, the multi-denomination publishers of the new Bible translation—the Common English Bible Committee, an alliance of five publishers—out digitally now and in print in the next few weeks didn't just toss together a few new catchy phrases, though. They took the task seriously.
With more than 200 biblical scholars and church leaders representing more than 20 denominations, the committee translated straight from the original Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek texts, says associate publisher Paul Franklyn. When field-testing showed passages appeared confusing, project staff worked in modern phrasing. USA Today notes the committee was made up of "a coalition of Protestant denominational publishing houses owned by the United Methodist Church, one of the nation's largest denominations, and the Disciples of Christ, Presbyterian Church U.S.A., Episcopal Church and the United Church of Christ."
"The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed that someone took and sowed in his field; it is the smallest of all the seeds, but when it has grown it is the greatest of shrubs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches."
In 1992, the beautiful city of Sarajevo was being torn apart in the ethnic strife of the Bosnian civil war. On the afternoon of May 27, a bomb was dropped on one of the last functioning bakeries in the city - 22 people who were waiting patiently to buy bread were killed. Vedran Smajlović witnessed the bombing from his apartment window. He was horrified and enraged at the massacre. But what could he do? He was not a politician or soldier. He was a musician, an accomplished cellist. All he knew was music.
So that is what he did for 22 days - one day for each of those killed - Smajlović played at the same spot. Every evening after that, at 4 P.M., the time of the fatal explosion, the 37-year-old cellist, dressed formally as if for a concert performance, took his cello to the site of the crater created by the bomb. And there he would play one of his favorite pieces, Albinoni's "Adagio in G minor." All around him mortar shells and bullets would fly, but he would continue to play. He played for the sake of human dignity that is the first casualty of war. He played for life, for peace, for hope. He was also known for playing for free at different funerals during the siege, even though such funerals would often be targeted by enemy fire.
Today, Vedran Smajlović is revered as a hero by the people of Sarajevo. A statue of a musician, sitting on a chair and playing a cello, was erected on the spot where Smajlović first played. But Smajlović says in all humility, "I am nothing special. I am a musician, I am part of the town. Like everyone else, I do what I can."
I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field for
a while, and gone my way and forgotten it.
But that was the pearl of great price, the one field
that had treasure in it. I realize now
that I must give all that I have to possess it.
Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,
nor hankering after an imagined past.
It is the turning aside like Moses
to the miracle of the lit bush,
to a brightness that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.
~ The Bright Field by R. S. Thomas ~
“Listen carefully my child to the master's instruction and attend to them with the ear of your heart.”These words were written by St. Benedict 1500 years ago to guide the monks of his monastery. Since then, his rule has been adopted and used by countless monks and nuns and other Christians to help guide their Christian lives. His feast day, the day we remember him, is tomorrow. I have always been struck by the opening sentence of his prologue: “Listen carefully my child to the master's instruction and attend to them with the ear of your heart.” Listen and attend to them with the ear of your heart… In the rush of our days, we need to stop and listen, really listen, to the words that will guide our lives, the masters instructions.
“where the ordinary has gone askew and thereby shocks us into realizing that the parable leads us into another way of thinking about life.” (John R. Donahue)So Jesus tells a parable to the crowd (and us) about a sower sowing seed on the ground.
A sower went forth to sow. Some of his seeds fell upon stony places. Centuries passed; millennia. And the seeds remained. And the stones crumbled and became good soil, and the seeds brought forth fruit.
"Wait a minute," said one listener. "You can't play fast and loose that way with the natural facts. The seeds would die long before the soil could receive them."
"Why would they die?"
"Because they can't hold out in stony places, for thousands of years."
"But, my dear, what kind of seeds do you think we're talking about?"
The Parable of the Sower by Stephen Mitchell *Portraits and Parables.* © 1990
Once upon a time there was a little seed. Because it was only a seed, nobody seemed to notice or care. The seed didn't consider himself very important, either. One day, the wind picked up the seed and threw the seed mercilessly into an open field. The sweltering sun beat down on the little seed; rain pounded the helpless seed into the ground; snow and ice trapped the shivering seed for long periods of time. The little seed was broken, confused and lonely. Time went by. Then, one day, a traveler came up and sat beside the seed. "Thank you, O God, for this place," the seed heard the traveler say.
"Excuse me." The seed spoke up. "What are you talking about?" People had stopped by his little plot of earth before, but no one had ever spoken like this. The seed thought the traveler was making fun of him.
The traveler was startled. "Who's speaking to me?"
"Me. The seed." "The seed? You're no seed. You're a tree - a goliath of an oak!"
"Really?" asked the seed. "Yes! Why else do you think people come here?"
"Why?" "To rest under your shade. Don't you realize how you have grown?"
It took a moment for the seed to realize what the traveler was saying. The seed smiled for the first time in his life. The years of restlessness and struggle, of brokenness and loneliness, finally made sense to him. "I am worth something," rejoiced the one-time little seed, now a great oak. [Adapted from a story by Novoneel Chakaborty.]
“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
“I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because you have hidden these things from the wise and the intelligent and have revealed them to infants”
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me...and you will find rest for your souls.”We will only find that true rest when we learn from Jesus. The Jesus who befriended a tax collector, who ate with sinners, who refused to let the religious elite of his time put a yoke upon those who were suffering and in need. Jesus brought healing and life wherever he went. That is the Jesus we learn from and in whom our souls find rest. His was such a wise & holy life. I recently came across another wise life…
One of the early leaders of Zen Buddhism in Japan was a priest named Tetsugen Doko, who was the first to translate the holy books of his faith into Japanese in the 17th Century. Tetsugen sought to print several thousand copies of the books in Japanese so the people could read it (sounds like the early reformers in England!). He traveled the length and breadth of Japan to raise the money for the printing. Rich and poor alike donated to the project. The priest expressed equal gratitude to each donor, whether their gift amounted to hundreds of pieces of gold or a few pennies.
After ten long years, Tetsugen had enough money for the printing. But just as the making of the holy books was about to begin, the river Uji overflowed its banks, leaving thousands of people without food and shelter. The priest halted the project immediately and used all of the money he worked so hard to raise to help the hungry and homeless.
Then Tetsugen began the work of raising the funds all over again. It took another ten years of travel and begging before he collected the money he needed to publish the holy book. But an epidemic spread across the country. Again the priest gave away all he had collected to care for the sick, the suffering and the dying.
A third time Tetsugen set out on his travels and, twenty years later, his dream of having the holy books printed in Japanese was finally realized. The printing blocks that produced the first edition are on display at the Obaku Monastery in Kyoto. The Japanese tell their children that Tetsugen actually published three editions of the holy book -- the first two are invisible but are far superior to the third. (Reps, Paul; Nyogen Senzaki. Zen Flesh, Zen Bones: A Collection of Zen and Pre-Zen Writings)
The writer Barbara Jurgensen tells the story about how her busy life had kept her from living the kind of Christian life she wanted to live. And so one night, she prayed to God to help her live a really Christian life the next day.
Before she even got out of bed the next morning, her next-door neighbor phoned, saying she had a terrible toothache. The dentist could see her right away, but her little boy was in bed with the measles. So Barbara went over, gave the child his breakfast and took care of him. That filled the morning.
After lunch, a friend who had been in and out of a mental hospital stopped with a couple of dresses, asking if Barbara would help her shorten them. The two women worked together for most of the afternoon.
Near supper time her husband came in announcing that he’d invited two new acquaintances to dine with them, a married couple. The man was having trouble finding work because of a prison record. “I hope it’s okay with you that I invited them,” her husband said and Barbara agreed. By bedtime, Barbara wondered how, with all those interruptions, she could live the kind of Christian life she’d like to. (Barbara Jurgensen’s You’re out of Date, God?)
