In Gennesaret

[Resurrection Station #2 – Luke 24] “Were not our hearts burning within us?” Three days after the crucifixion of the man they had hoped would be “the one to redeem Israel,” Cleopas and his friend met that crucified man walking with them on the road to Emmaus. And again, they didn’t recognize him. And again, I try to give them some grace about that, just like I give Mary. Some people believe that Jesus’ resurrected body was somehow different enough from his original that he wasn’t easily recognizable at first. And I can see that. I’ve often wondered what the new and perfect version of my body will look like – what age? What weight? What “flaws” will be gone? Maybe Jesus’ new face was missing scars from childhood accidents and wrinkles from sun damage. Maybe he fell and broke his nose at some point . . . and the nose on his new body was unbroken and didn’t look the same. I mean . . . why not? It’s possible. In any case . . . After hearing the men’s version of recent events, Jes...

[Resurrection Station #1 -- John 20] " Who are you looking for?” Mary Magdalene is back at the empty tomb. That morning, she had come to finish anointing the body of Jesus and discovered that the body was not there. And after running to tell the boys the stunning news, she returned to the tomb, weeping. Sobbing too hard, it seems, to recognize Jesus himself standing beside her, talking to her, asking her why she is crying . . . “Who are you looking for?” You see, Mary wasn’t really looking for Jesus – I mean, not a living, walking, talking, breathing Jesus who calls her by name. She was looking for a corpse. She kept asking people where they had taken his body . That’s all that she thought was left. I look for Jesus. At least I think I do. But I wonder how often I am looking for a living, walking, talking, breathing Jesus. The Jesus I have looked for in the past, I fear, was probably pretty corpse-like. Cold doctrine. Hard facts. Literal history. But doctrine does not b...

 I am SO not getting out the Easter baskets and eggs this year. Or the bunnies. And unfortunately, I'm not even buying the candy. My girls are all grown up, both of them getting ready to graduate from college and leave the proverbial nest. Even they  aren't interested in the old kiddie traditions this time around. The youngest came home from college yesterday, and we've been puzzling a bit about how to celebrate the holiday . . . I mean, other than going to church. And I don't mean to minimize the act of going to church on the most important of Christian holidays, or holy days .  But this year, it's not really cutting it. I recently finished re-reading Surprised by Hope  by N.T. Wright. Heavy reading, but good reading. Important, weighty stuff. One of the things he talks about (in fact, I think he devotes a whole chapter to it) is how poorly we do Easter these days. We spend a whole forty days on Lent (and by the way, I was today years old when I realized that the s...

Many of you cried with me when I posted about all of my piano music getting ruined. Thank you for your compassion. I even had a high school friend send me music she had been holding onto since high school. Bless her – really. Such a blessing. But I’m happy to report some good news on that front. I didn’t actually throw away all of that music; I set it aside to refer to as I reordered. And I pulled out the spoiled copy the other day of the one book I had replaced, trying to find the fingering I had written into one song. And lo and behold, it was readable! The pages opened. Stiff and yucky, but still somewhat useable. So I checked some other music – apparently, being out of the box and sitting in my somewhat dry house improved their condition somewhat. There are several pieces in there that are at least still salvageable enough for me to play from for a while. Among those is the book containing the first song I ever played for an offertory at the church I grew up in – a “Love of J...

 I just started watching a new series starring Samuel L. Jackson called "The Last Days of Ptolemy Gray." Jackson's elderly, dementia-ridden character is offered a treatment that will allow him to remember everything that has ever happened to him.  . . . and let's stop right there with that  striking idea. EVERYTHING. Everything that has ever happened to you. Do you want to remember everything that has ever happened to you?  Sweet Jesus, I do not . There is a blessing in forgetfulness. In a short article I read many years ago, an editor wrote about his mother's dementia and what a remarkably pleasant person she had become. Apparently, she had suffered a lot in her life and had many resentments that built up and made her a difficult woman to be around. But when she lost those memories, she found joy in life again, and others found joy in her as well. There is a blessing  in forgetfulness, people. I do not  want to remember everything that ever happened to me....

I make the programs for CSDC's shows -- because Jenn hates doing it, and I'm all about supporting my sisters-in-Christ through self-sacrifice and godly servanthood, you know. That's why I was at the theater this morning, printing more for the closing performance this afternoon and strike party this evening. It takes a while to print fifty color programs with three double-sided pages. So while I was waiting for the printer to catch up with my folding and stapling, I wandered into the stage area, beckoned by the ghost light . . . where I was greeted by the lovely vision in this photo. It was beautiful . And I stood staring in the silence for a few minutes, breathless.   There's just something about a stage, isn't there? The air of the room felt palpable with moments from the past. I heard echoes of actors who have tread on those boards, creating characters  . . . imaginary people more real than some people you know . . . new personalities who didn't exist before ....

“The people of God in Isaiah’s time had starved their imagination by looking on the face of idols.” So said my new, late friend Oswald Chambers in his Feb 10 th devotional. “Is your mind focused on the face of an idol? Is the idol yourself? Is it your work? Is it your idea of what a servant should be, or maybe your experience of salvation and sanctification?” Idolatry seems to be an unpopular term these days. We feel quite comfortable with those first couple of the Big Ten Commandments: No other gods. No wooden idols. Check. I’m good. But several years ago, I read Addiction and Grace by Gerald May and got a whole new perspective on this idolatry business. Addiction, he contends, is basically the modern word for idolatry. It’s putting something else in the place that God supposed to have in our life. The top priority. On the throne. And really, we are all addicted to something. May lists fifty-some different possible idols we could have in our lives. Not just the obvious ones l...