Feast of Christ the King November 20

Luke 23:35 – 43

35 And the people stood by, watching; but the leaders scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself if he is the Messiah[a] of God, his chosen one!” 36 The soldiers also mocked him, coming up and offering him sour wine, 37 and saying, “If you are the King of the Jews, save yourself!” 38 There was also an inscription over him,[b] “This is the King of the Jews.”

39 One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding[c] him and saying, “Are you not the Messiah?[d] Save yourself and us!” 40 But the other rebuked him, saying, “Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? 41 And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.” 42 Then he said, “Jesus, remember me when you come into[e] your kingdom.” 43 He replied, “Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.”

https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2023%3A35-43&version=NRSVCE

Footnotes

Luke 23:35 Or the Christ

Luke 23:38 Other ancient authorities add written in Greek and Latin and Hebrew (that is, Aramaic)

Luke 23:39 Or blaspheming

Luke 23:39 Or the Christ

Luke 23:42 Other ancient authorities read in

Commentary

David Lose

http://www.davidlose.net/2016/11/christ-the-king-c-what-kind-of-king-do-you-want/

“What kind of king do you want?” In one sense, this is the question Jesus put before those crucify him.

Keep in mind that just days earlier the crowds of Jerusalem had greeted Jesus as their king, rolling out the “red carpet” as it were by spreading their cloaks on the road, and receiving him as the one sent by the Lord (Luke 19:36-40). And now he is rejected, derided by the leaders of the people, then the soldiers, and even one of the criminals next to them. They mock his titles, asking why, if he is Messiah, chosen One, and King, he does not save himself.

“What kind of king do you want?” Jesus asks them. And they reply that they want a different king, one who is powerful, one who can save himself and others, one who can take vengeance on his and their enemies.

I wonder, if Jesus’ question to us is much different. If not, “What kind of king?” at least, “What kind of leader?” And I wonder if we will offer an answer quite similar to the one given in Jesus’ day.

Jesus, to put it another and more pointed way, would not have won an election.

But let me be clear: this is not a political statement as much as it is an existential one. We seek out those things and people who grant us a measure of security and who affirm our values. And, it turns out, when we are frightened or feeling particularly at risk or left behind, we may even accept someone who we profess decidedly does not reflect our values but who we believe will offer us security against our enemies abroad and prosperity at home. We vote for someone, that is, who promises a better tomorrow.

Jesus doesn’t do that. He refuses to come in power but instead appears in abject vulnerability. He does not vow retribution on even those who crucify him but instead offers forgiveness. He does not come down off his cross to prove his kingly status but instead remains on that instrument of torture and humiliation, the representative of all who suffer unjustly. And he does not promise a better tomorrow but instead offers to redeem us today.

Have you ever noticed that? That Jesus doesn’t tell the repentant criminal that someday in the future he will enter into God’s presence but instead says “Today, you shall be with me in paradise.” Today, now, in this very moment. Christians have sometimes been accused of pining for a distant and better future and therefore sitting out the struggles and challenges of the day. But in these verses Jesus is focused on this very moment, promising that those who believe in him, those who see in his vulnerability the revelation of God’s mercy and grace, will be ushered into God’s presence immediately.

Jesus was not running for prime minister, of course, and perhaps it’s understandable that we seek from our temporal leaders a measure of strength and confidence. But Luke’s Gospel warns us against spiritualising the kind of leadership Jesus offers. For in Luke’s story of the crucifixion, the one dimension of Jesus that is emphasized above all others is Jesus’ innocence. Notice the words of the repentant criminal as he rebukes his comrade: “We indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but his man has done nothing wrong.”

The verses that follow these are even more direct, as the Roman centurion, after witnessing Jesus’ death, declares, “Certainly this man was innocent.” Luke’s depiction, in this instance, is a stark departure from that of Matthew and Mark, who record the centurion as saying, “Truly this man was God’s Son.” In this account, it is Jesus’ innocence, rather than his divine parentage, that is paramount. And this is not to heighten our sense of tragedy but rather to remind us that Jesus stands with all the innocent of the world, all the vulnerable and forgotten, all those who suffer injustice and oppression. And when he is raised he promises God’s vindication to all those the world has similarly discarded.

So Jesus calls leaders of all kinds – and, indeed, any who would call him “Lord” – to join God’s insistent, consistent, and persistent solidarity with the weak, the oppressed, and the forgotten of this world. In short, the church of Jesus Christ reveals itself as faithful to its Lord only in so far as it stands with those who are most vulnerable. Whatever our understandable desire for strength and security, God calls us not only to identify with the weak and dispossessed, but to lift our voices on their behalf, calling leaders to care for them as parents care for their children. Jesus leaves behind all the strength and power of his status – as Paul writes, “emptying himself and taking the form of a servant” (Phil 2:7) – in order to redeem those who are weak, vulnerable, and lost.

And that includes us.

“What kind of king do you want?” Jesus asks. And the answer most gave him, both in the first century and the twenty-first, is “Not this one,” preferring instead some demonstration of power to vulnerability. Except for those moments when, like the criminal who beseeched God’s mercy, we recognise that if we are to get what we deserve, then we have no hope. If we choose to live in a world where might makes right, we will all eventually lose. And if we prefer a world where the rule of the day is “an eye for an eye,” all of us will be blind and the whole, indeed, will eventually lay in ruin. At those moments, Jesus reminds us that far from promising us a better future, he redeems us today, not only forgiving us for what we have done or not done, but setting us free to stand with those in need around us, advocating for their welfare, demanding their just treatment, and seeing in them the very presence of the God who always takes the side of the vulnerable.

Jesus is perhaps not the king or leader we may want, but he is the one we need. And our task, is to declare the wonders of his love, grace, and mercy that we might hear and follow his call.

Pentecost Sunday 5th June 2022

Dear Friends,

Next week is Pentecost Sunday! May we all notice that we are on fire with the love of God for life and each other!! In fact, may we notice that we ARE love and life in God. It is difficult to reconcile the drama and inspiration of the Gospels with our pedestrian lives, but in perfect freedom, during meditation perhaps we can experience this!

See you as usual tomorrow at Stella Maris for a 7:30pm start.

Best wishes,

Patricia

John 20: 19-23

“19. In the evening of that same day, the first day of the week, the doors were closed in the room where the disciples were, for fear of the Jews. Jesus came and stood among them. He said to them, ‘Peace be with you,’ 20. and, after saying this, he showed them his hands and his side. The disciples were filled with joy at seeing the Lord, 21. and he said to them again, ‘Peace be with you. ‘As the Father sent me, so am I sending you.’ 22. After saying this he breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit. 23. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven; if you retain anyone’s sins, they are retained.”

John, 20 – Bíblia Católica Online

Commentary

1)Day of Pentecost

by Samuel Cruz

John makes it clear that after the crucifixion of Jesus, the disciples were overcome by fear and despair. This sentiment was to be expected from a group of individuals who had followed a charismatic leader — Jesus, whose ministry threatened the Roman Empire and the Jewish religious leadership. Consequently, those same disciples found themselves alone to cope with the religious-political consequences of Jesus’ three years of ministry and all of its challenges. They went from believing in the historical project of Jesus establishing the Kingdom on earth, to fearing a complete and utter failure of that trajectory.

Not surprisingly, Jesus came to visit his disciples, knowing that they would feel defeated and understanding the support they would need in order to move forward. He bestowed peace upon them, and they were overjoyed when he showed them his wounds. They, like Thomas, apparently needed physical proof of the resurrection.

Jesus’ return to visit with his disciples appears to have had a clear mission of fortifying them to continue his work. First of all, they would need peace to counter the turbulence of his death, and secondly, they needed evidence of his resurrection to restore their faith. Jesus dealt with these two pressing issues immediately. He did not simply return to celebrate his resurrection, but to prepare them as he sent them forth to continue the work he had begun.

However, how can people who witnessed total defeat and who were consequently living in fear, regain their faith with just a few words? Can one sermon, no matter how persuasive, change the minds, values and beliefs of a group of people? Can words create courage and faith where there is none? Before he left his disciples, Jesus bestowed upon them the Spirit. It seems that without the Spirit’s involvement in the lives of the disciples, there would be no peace, faith, or courage. The Spirit plays a crucial role in breaking the barriers.

The role of the Holy Spirit as empowerment for ministry must be explored.The Spirit is needed to help the church break through the barriers of ethnicity, sex, gender, race, class, ability, etc., and must be sought. We are living through a time in which there are so many challenges in our world, a time in which the fearless prophetic voice of the church is desperately needed. This prophetic voice can only be propelled by the empowerment of the Holy Spirit.

2)The Holy Spirit: The Breath of God!

Janet Hunt

John 20:19-23

“The bush was always burning. It just took someone moving slow enough to notice it.”

—Rob Bell, May 15, 2017, The Festival of Homiletics

“When did the Spirit of Life last touch you? You know when it was… If it happened before, it can happen again…”

— Barbara Brown Taylor, May 19, 2017, The Festival of Homiletics

We have heard of the Holy Spirit’s association with “breath” before, of course:

We hear it today as we again remember Jesus breathing on his disciples as he imparts the gift of the Holy Spirit to them in John’s Gospel.

And, yes, we hear about it in the Pentecost account in Acts where the flames are accompanied by wind — the very Breath of God.

And surely we can’t help but be taken back to the creation account in Genesis where God’s own breath becomes Adam’s breath and thus, also, our own.

Breathing is something we take for granted, until we can’t or it becomes difficult.

Indeed, how many days do I walk through my hours and not even notice my breathing?
And if that is the case, is it possible that I also miss the ‘burning bush’ — or in keeping with this week’s celebration, the flames on the very heads of God’s Own who are called to lives of witness and service we surely could not have imagined on our own?
How often is the Spirit of Life actually moving in and around me and I haven’t paused long enough to notice it?

Might I see that burning bush, those flames of fire all around as pictured in the scene in Acts today?
Might I sense the Spirit of Life more surely than I otherwise would?
Might it be that God, in fact, gave me breath, gave us breath that this might be so?
And might it make all the difference if I just were to acknowledge that many times every day instead of just occasionally?

Indeed, perhaps this Pentecost you and I are called to simply watch for the flames which are already burning. Maybe we will be more able to more fully take note of them because we simply stand still to breathe God’s Own Breath.

What do you make of Rob Bell’s assertion that ‘the bush was always burning?’ It makes sense to me for it is so that all of Scripture asserts the constant presence of God.
What would it take for you to ‘slow down and notice’ as Moses did? How might you better take note of the ‘Spirit of Life’ moving in and around us all the time?
I have offered a couple of places in Scripture where the Breath of God is experienced. Can you think of others?

John 13:31-35

May 8th, 2022

Dear Friends,

I hope everyone had a special Mothers Day – those who are mothers and those who mother / nurture others. The gospel for next week talks about an ideal mother’s love – unconditional, without boundaries. See you tomorrow at 7:30pm at Stella Maris.

Best wishes,

Patricia

John 13: 31-35

“”31. When he had gone, Jesus said: Now has the Son of man been glorified, and in him God has been glorified. 32. If God has been glorified in him, God will in turn glorify him in himself, and will glorify him very soon. 33. Little children, I shall be with you only a little longer. You will look for me, and, as I told the Jews, where I am going, you cannot come. 34. I give you a new commandment: love one another; you must love one another just as I have loved you. 35. It is by your love for one another, that everyone will recognise you as my disciples.”

John, 13 – Bíblia Católica Online

If You Love

By Debie Thomas.

Lectionary Readings (Revised Common Lectionary, Year C)

If you knew you were about to die, what would you tell the people you love? What cherished hope or dream would you share? What last, urgent piece of advice would you offer?

In our Gospel reading this week, we hear Jesus’s answer to this difficult question. Judas has left the Last Supper in order to carry out his betrayal, the crucifixion clock is ticking fast and hard, and Jesus knows that his disciples are about to face the greatest devastation of their lives. So he gets right to the point. No parables, no stories, no pithy sayings. Just one commandment. One simple, straightforward commandment, summarising Jesus’s deepest desire for his followers: “Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

And then, right on the heels of the commandment, a promise. Or maybe an incentive. Or maybe a warning: “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

May I take a moment here to point out what Jesus doesn’t say? When death comes knocking, and the Son of God has mere hours left to communicate the heart of his message to his disciples, he doesn’t say, “Believe the right things.” He doesn’t say, “Maintain personal and doctrinal purity.” He doesn’t say, “Worship like this or attend a church like that.” He doesn’t even say, “Read your Bible,” or “Pray every day,” or “Preach the Gospel to every living creature.” He says, “Love one another.” That’s it. The last dream of a dead man walking. All of Christianity distilled down to its essence so that maybe we’ll pause long enough to hear it. Love one another.

What’s staggering about this commandment is how badly we’ve managed to botch it over the last two thousand years. New Testament scholar D.A Carson names the irony this way: “This new command is simple enough for a toddler to memorise and appreciate, and yet it is profound enough that the most mature believers are repeatedly embarrassed at how poorly they comprehend it and put it into practice.”

When I look at my own life, it’s not too hard to name why I perpetually fail to obey Jesus’s dying wish. Love is vulnerable-making, and I’d rather not be vulnerable. Love requires trust, and I’m naturally suspicious. Love spills over margins and boundaries, and I feel safer and holier policing my borders. Love takes time, effort, discipline, and transformation, and I am just so darned busy.

And yet Jesus didn’t say, “This is my suggestion.” He said, “This is my commandment.” Meaning, it’s not a choice. It’s not a matter of personal preference; it’s a matter of obedience to the one we call Lord.

But what does it mean that Jesus commands us to love? Does love obey decrees? My guess is, most of us would say no. Shaped as we are by Hollywood, or Jane Austen novels, or romantic poetry, we usually think of love as spontaneous and free-flowing. We fall in love. Love is blind, it happens at first sight, it breaks our hearts, and its course never runs smooth.

Even if we put our culture’s hokey clichés aside, we know that authentic love can’t be manipulated, simulated, or rushed without suffering distortion. Those of us who have kids understand full well that commandingthem to love each other never works. The most we can do is insist that they behave as if they love each other: “Share your toys.” “Say sorry.” “Don’t hit.” “Use kind words.” But these actions — often performed with gritted teeth and rolling eyes — aren’t the same as what Jesus is talking about.

Jesus doesn’t say, “Act as if you love.” He doesn’t give his disciples (or us) the easy “out” of doing nice things with clenched hearts. (Nor would I want him to; nothing feels as hollow as a “loving” act performed mechanically. Moreover, I doubt that the people who flocked to Jesus would have done so if they sensed that his compassion was thin or forced.) He says, “Love as I have loved you.” As in, for real. As in, the whole bona fide package. Authentic feeling, deep engagement, generous action. Doesn’t it sound like he’s asking for the impossible?

Maybe he is. G.K Chesterton once wrote that “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult and left untried.” Imagine what would happen to us, to the Church, to the world, if we took this commandment of Jesus’s seriously? What could Christendom look like if we obeyed orders and cultivated “impossible” love?

I ask these questions fearfully, because I don’t know how to answer them, even for myself. I mean, I know fairly well how to do things. I know how to make care packages for the homeless. Or bring dessert to the church potluck. Or send checks to my favourite charities. But do I know how to love as Jesus loved? To feel a depth of compassion that’s gut-punching? To experience a hunger for justice so fierce and so urgent that I rearrange my life in order to pursue it? To empathise until my heart breaks? Do I want to?

Most of the time — I’ll be honest — I don’t. I want to be safe. I want to keep my circle small and manageable. And I want to choose the people I love based on my own affinities and preferences — not on Jesus’s all-inclusive commandment. Charitable actions are easy. But cultivating my heart? Preparing and pruning it to love? Becoming vulnerable in authentic ways to the world’s pain? Those things are hard. Hard and costly.

And yet this was Jesus’s dying wish. Which means that we have a God who first and foremost wants every one of his children to feel loved. Not shamed. Not punished. Not chastised. Not judged. Not isolated. But loved.

But that’s not all. Jesus follows his commandment with an exhilarating and terrifying promise: “By this everyone will know.” Meaning, love is the litmus test of Christian witness. Our love for each other is how the world will know who we are and whose we are. Our love for each other is how the world will see, taste, touch, hear, and find Jesus. It’s through our love that we will embody Jesus, make Jesus relatable, possible, plausible, to a dying world.

I can’t speak for you, but this makes me tremble. What Jesus seems to be saying is that if we fail to love one another, the world won’t know what it needs to know about God, and in the terrible absence of that knowing, it will believe that the whole Jesus thing is a sham; That there really is no transformative power in the resurrection; That God is a mean, angry, vindictive parent, determined only to shame and punish his children; That the universe is a cold, meaningless place, ungoverned by love. That the Church is only a flawed and hypocritical institution — not Christ’s living, breathing, healing body on earth.

Such is the power we wield in our decisions to love or not love. Such are the stakes involved in how we choose to respond to Jesus’s dying wish, hope, prayer, and commandment. Such is the responsibility we shoulder, whether we want to or not.

But here’s our saving grace: Jesus doesn’t leave us alone and bereft. We are not direction-less in the wilderness. He gives us a road map, a clear and beautiful way forward: “As I have loved you.” Follow my example, he says. Do what I do. Love as I love. Live as you have seen me live.

Weep with those who weep. Laugh with those who laugh. Touch the untouchables. Feed the hungry. Welcome the child. Release the captive. Forgive the sinner. Confront the oppressor. Comfort the oppressed. Wash each other’s feet. Hold each other close. Tell each other the truth. Guide each other home.

In other words, Jesus’s commandment to us is not that we should wear ourselves out, trying to conjure love from our own easily depleted resources. Rather, it’s that we’re invited to abide in the holy place where all love originates. We can make our home in Jesus’s love — the most abundant and inexhaustible love in existence. Our love is not our own; it is God’s, and God our source is without limit, without end. There are no parched places God will not drench if we ask.

“Love one another as I have loved you.” For our own sakes. And for the world’s.

Debie Thomas: debie.thomas1@gmail.com

Image credits: (1) Faith & Leadership; (2) Fine Art America; and (3) Fine Art America.

John 10:27-30

John 10:27-30

“The sheep that belong to me listen to my voice; I know them and they follow me. 28. I give them eternal life; they will never be lost and no one will ever steal them from my hand. 29. The Father, for what he has given me, is greater than anyone, and no one can steal anything from the Father’s hand. 30. The Father and I are one.”

John, 10 – Bíblia Católica Online

1) Elisabeth Johnson

The Good Shepherd tells us that everything depends on belonging to him. Never does our status before God depend on how we feel, on having the right experience, on being free of doubt, or on what we accomplish. It depends on one thing only: that we are known by the shepherd: “My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish” (John 10:28).

The voice of the Good Shepherd is a voice that liberates rather than oppresses. It does not say, “Do this, and then maybe you will be good enough to be one of my sheep.” It says, “You belong to me already. No one can snatch you out of my hand.” Secure in this belonging, we are free to live the abundant life of which Jesus spoke earlier in the chapter: “I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly” (John 10:10).

The abundant life of which Jesus speaks is not necessarily about abundance in years, or in wealth, or status, or accomplishments. It is life that is abundant in the love of God made known in Jesus Christ, love that overflows to others (John 13:34-35). It is eternal life because its source is in God who is eternal (17:3), and in Jesus, who is the resurrection and the life (11:25-26).

Amidst all the other voices that evoke fear, make demands, or give advice, the voice of the good shepherd is a voice of promise—a voice that calls us by name and claims us as God’s own.

2) David Lose

Jesus references the metaphor of sheep and their shepherd. He explains that, in a sense, there is little point in more conversation because those who are part of Jesus’ flock will recognise and follow his voice, while those who are not will simply not believe.

All of which raises a question: Is any of this fair? I mean, it almost sounds like all of this is determined ahead of time. Why would John tell the story this way? Scholars have suggested that John is seeking to reassure his community that they are, indeed, part of Jesus’ flock and to explain why others – perhaps including some of their own family members – don’t believe.

While this may seem like an antiquated concern at first, I’d bet that more and more of our people aren’t that different from John’s community. After all, if trends continue, most of the kids attending Sunday school and youth group today will not continue participating in church when they become adults, prompting many parents and grandparents to wonder what they’ve done wrong. And just about all of us have friends or colleagues who follow another religion or perhaps have no particular allegiance to any faith tradition. Given that these are people we know and respect, we may wonder why.

All of which makes Jesus’ statements that “you do not believe because you do not belong to my flock” and “my sheep hear my voice … and they follow me” ring a bit hollow upon first hearing. Which means, I think, that we need to hear what Jesus says again, this time not only in light of the larger narrative but also in terms of what we know about experience and belief.

When I was in college one of my favourite subjects was psychology. Then, as now, I was fascinated by why we behave as we do. One of the most interesting things I learned in my first psychology class was that while I tended to think that belief shapes behaviour – that is, our actions follow our convictions – the truth turned out to be the exact opposite: more often than not, our behaviour shapes our beliefs. Ask people to put a small political sign in their yard and their support for that candidate rises dramatically. Get folks to start recycling for a month and their commitment to the environment goes well beyond what it was before they began recycling. In short, we tend to justify our actions by shaping our convictions and even identity – often unconsciously – to explain and support those actions. Which means that our popular exclamation – I’ll believe it when I see it – should probably be modified slightly but significantly: I’ll believe it when I do it.

All of this helps me make sense of what Jesus is saying. Yes, those who believe in him are part of his flock and follow him. And, at the same time, those who are following him are more likely to believe in him and identify as part of his flock. We tend to separate out “believing” and “following,” but according both to Jesus and modern psychologists the two actually go together.

Or, to put it another way, it’s really, really hard to be an armchair Christian. Only by getting out of our chairs – or, as the case may be, pews – and actually living the Christian life do we come to deeper faith and commitment.

We need to follow Jesus in a tangible, concrete way, because as we do, we are more likely to “hear Jesus’ voice” calling to us.

I think you’ll find that as we live our faith, we will also believe it with greater depth and intensity.

Blessings in Christ,

David

Questions for Easter 4 – John 10:22-30

In this passage Jesus talks about his sheep (his followers) recognising his voice and following him. Have you ever felt like you’ve heard Jesus’ voice? What was it like? If not, what might you imagine Jesus would call you to do?

There is a promise in this passage that those God has entrusted to Jesus will never be “snatched away.” When things are particularly hard, how might you remember – and remind others – of Jesus’ promise that he will never let us go?

Notes for ANZAC day 2022

John 21: 1-19

”Later on, Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples. It was by the Sea of Tiberias, and it happened like this: 2. Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee and two more of his disciples were together. 3. Simon Peter said, ‘I’m going fishing.’ They replied, ‘We’ll come with you.’ They went out and got into the boat but caught nothing that night. 4. When it was already light, there stood Jesus on the shore, though the disciples did not realise that it was Jesus. 5. Jesus called out, ‘Haven’t you caught anything, friends?’ And when they answered, ‘No,’ 6. he said, ‘Throw the net out to starboard and you’ll find something.’ So they threw the net out and could not haul it in because of the quantity of fish. 7. The disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord.’ At these words, ‘It is the Lord,’ Simon Peter tied his outer garment round him (for he had nothing on) and jumped into the water. 8. The other disciples came on in the boat, towing the net with the fish; they were only about a hundred yards from land. 9. As soon as they came ashore they saw that there was some bread there and a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it. 10. Jesus said, ‘Bring some of the fish you have just caught.’ 11. Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net ashore, full of big fish, one hundred and fifty-three of them; and in spite of there being so many the net was not broken. 12. Jesus said to them, ‘Come and have breakfast.’ None of the disciples was bold enough to ask, ‘Who are you?’. They knew quite well it was the Lord. 13. Jesus then stepped forward, took the bread and gave it to them, and the same with the fish. 14. This was the third time that Jesus revealed himself to the disciples after rising from the dead. 15. When they had eaten, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others do?’ He answered, ‘Yes, Lord, you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ 16. A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He replied, ‘Yes, Lord, you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Look after my sheep.’ 17. Then he said to him a third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter was hurt that he asked him a third time, ‘Do you love me?’ and said, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep. 18. In all truth I tell you, when you were young you put on your own belt and walked where you liked; but when you grow old you will stretch out your hands, and somebody else will put a belt round you and take you where you would rather not go.’ 19. In these words he indicated the kind of death by which Peter would give glory to God. After this he said, ‘Follow me.'”

John, 21 – Bíblia Católica Online

That is more gracious than the smallness

That fuels us with fear and force,

A dignity that trusts the form a day takes.

GOING FISHING – LECTIONARY REFLECTION FOR EASTER 3C

1) “Going Fishing” Bob Cornwall

https://www.bobcornwall.com/2016/04/going-fishing-lectionary-reflection-for.html

This final chapter takes place along the Sea of Tiberias (Sea of Galilee). At least seven of the disciples have made their way north to their homeland in Galilee. As they sit there contemplating the water, Peter decides to go fishing. Why not? That was is profession before he headed off on his adventure with Jesus. That adventure was over, so now he could go back to work doing what he knew best.

The Beloved Disciple recognizes Jesus, but it’s Peter who acts upon this discovery. The Beloved Disciple seems to be the contemplative one, while Peter is the man of action. When he recognized Jesus he became aware of his nakedness, and so he put on his clothes before jumping into the lake and swimming to shore. Jesus had built a fire (we remember the fire in the courtyard where Peter denied Jesus) so they could make breakfast with the recently caught fish. The reference to eating the fish may be John’s way of reminding us that Jesus’ resurrection had a physical dimension. He’s not a phantom or a ghost. He’s a heavenly being, but with materiality.

The question raised by the story concerns Peter’s vocation. Will he go about his work as fisherman? Or will he take up a new vocation.

It is important to remember that this is an Easter reading. We need to keep in mind that the resurrection is front and center. Death has its match. The question is: what will we do as a result? Peter thought about going fishing. That is, getting back to normal. But Jesus had something else in mind. He had work for Peter to do. Once Jesus rehabilitated Peter, and commissioning him to care for the sheep, the question must be asked of us. What role do we play in this story?

Thomas Troeger writes of this epilogue:

The epilogue awakens memories of the darkness—the darkness of our hunger, the darkness of our failure to recognise Christ, the darkness of our denial—but at the same time it reminds us that none of this darkness has overcome the light. For the risen Christ still calls, still feeds, still empowers, even doubters and deniers for the ministry. [Feasting on the Word, C, v. 2, p. 425].

If Peter can be rehabilitated, the same is true for us. If Peter is called to care for the sheep, then the same is true for us. Jesus stands on the beach, as the light of God, and he calls out to us in our darkness and invites us to follow him into the light, that we might become beacons of light. Or to put it a bit differently, with Peter we can move from fishing to tending sheep!

So at the end of this day, we give thanks

For being betrothed to the unknown

And for the secret work

Through which the mind of the day

And wisdom of the soul become one.

____________________________

2) Loyola Press

https://www.loyolapress.com/catholic-resources/liturgical-year/sunday-connection/third-sunday-of-easter-cycle-c-sunday-connection/

In Lectionary Cycle C, our Sunday Gospels are usually taken from the Gospel of Luke. The Gospels for the Easter Season, however, are taken from the Gospel of John. Today’s Gospel is one of the post-Resurrection appearances reported by John. Recall that in John’s Gospel, Jesus appears first to Mary of Magdala, second to all of the disciples except Thomas, and finally to Thomas and the disciples (which we heard last Sunday). After those appearances, John’s Gospel seems to conclude with a reference to other signs that Jesus gave after his Resurrection, which have not been recorded.

Because it follows this apparent conclusion, most scholars believe today’s Gospel passage (and all of John 21) to have been an addition to John’s original text. Because there are significant differences between this report and the other appearances described in John’s Gospel, it is quite likely that this story is from a different source. There are details in the story that recall Jesus’ call to Simon Peter and the other fishermen as well as the miraculous catch of fish (found in the Gospel of Luke, with parallels in the other Synoptic Gospels). The end of the chapter, where Jesus asks Peter three times whether he loves him, most likely is meant to represent the reconciliation that occurred between the community represented by John’s Gospel with the larger Christian community represented by Peter. This Gospel reading is a rich and textured story that speaks of Jesus’ presence in the Eucharist and our commission to serve others as Jesus did.

Last week we heard that Jesus appeared to the gathered disciples in a locked room, probably in Jerusalem. In today’s Gospel, the disciples are no longer in Jerusalem; they are in Galilee, returning to their work of fishing. Simon Peter is still presented in the role of leader: when he announces that he is going fishing, the other disciples follow. They spend the night fishing but are unsuccessful.

Jesus calls to them from the shore, but just as when Jesus first appeared to Mary of Magdala, the disciples do not recognize him immediately. Still, they follow the stranger’s instructions and bring in a large haul of fish. It is at this point that one of the disciples (the “disciple whom Jesus loved”) realizes that Jesus is appearing to them. Upon hearing this news, Simon Peter leads the way again, jumping from the boat and swimming to shore. The other disciples follow in the boat, dragging the fish.

The disciples have brought to shore a tremendous catch of fish that Jesus has directed them to find. But once on the shore, they see that Jesus has already prepared fish and bread on a charcoal fire. Jesus directs the disciples to bring their catch of fish as well. Jesus is host at the meal that follows, feeding the disciples the bread and fish. In this detail we see allusions to the miracle of the multiplication of the loaves and the fishes told in John 6.

There are also allusions in the Gospel to our gathering for the celebration of the Mass. In the Eucharist, we too are fed by Jesus in the bread and wine that have become his very Body and Blood. We also find in this story insight about the Presentation of the Gifts at Mass. The gifts we bring to the altar, bread and wine, are made from gifts that God gave first to us: grain and grapes, the fruit of the earth. God has no need of anything further. Yet God accepts the offering we bring—bread and wine, “the work of human hands”—and transforms our offering into the gift of his very presence.

After the meal, Jesus directs himself to Simon Peter. The community of John’s Gospel probably looked down on Peter because of his denial of Jesus. This dialogue with Simon Peter is a reversal of Peter’s three denials. Peter is forgiven. Having been restored to friendship with Jesus, Simon Peter is sent on a mission. “Feed my lambs . . . Tend my sheep . . . Feed my sheep.” These commands indicate that Peter is to be as Jesus, even unto sacrificing for the flock. As Jesus has fed Peter in this meal and as Jesus feeds us in the Eucharist, so he also sends us to follow him, asking that we offer our lives in service and sacrifice.

Luke 5:1-11

Luke 5:1-11 New King James Version (NKJV)

5 So it was, as the multitude pressed about Him to hear the word of God that He stood by the Lake of Gennesaret, ²and saw two boats standing by the lake; but the fishermen had gone from them and were washing their nets. ³Then He got into one of the boats, which was Simon’s, and asked him to put out a little from the land. And He sat down and taught the multitudes from the boat.

⁴When He had stopped speaking, He said to Simon, “Launch out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.”

⁵But Simon answered and said to Him, “Master, we have toiled all night and caught nothing; nevertheless at Your word I will let down the net.” ⁶And when they had done this, they caught a great number of fish, and their net was breaking. ⁷So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both the boats, so that they began to sink. ⁸When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!”

⁹For he and all who were with him were astonished at the catch of fish which they had taken; ¹⁰and so also were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. And Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid. From now on you will catch men.” ¹¹So when they had brought their boats to land, they ^[a]forsook all and followed Him.

Footnotes:

Luke 5:11 left behind

New King James Version (NKJV)

Commentary

When people came to Jesus to hear the word of God, we know that he was in fact the Word of God. He first sat in a boat and taught them. The boat is often used as a symbol of the Church which is a conveyor of what Jesus taught. The sea was often used as a symbol of the chaos and unpredictability of life.

The Church with Jesus as the head is meant to keep us above the fear and chaos.

Jesus then pulled away from the crowd, implying distance but it was probably in order to address everyone – a sort of equidistance to all.

Then he told the fishermen to fish in deep water – and they said they had already tried and failed. This seems to say that when we rely merely on our own resources, we set ourselves up for failure. Also going out into the deep requires commitment, courage and trust.

Peter resisted at first, as we all do when we get an idea that we know will be uncomfortable, or dangerous and has no guarantees. We hate risk, even when we know it is what is required of us. Jesus asks his disciples to help him – as he asks us, today. He asks us – ordinary people, in the middle of our ordinary lives – unqualified and inadequate as we think we are.

Then of course, the unexpected happens. They catch loads of fish.

Peter called himself unworthy and sinful. Jesus doesn’t comment on Peter’s ego statement. He doesn’t tell him to repent etc. He just tells all of them not to be afraid, but to follow him to the next stage – fishing for men. What does this mean?

I don’t believe it means evangelising. I don’t think it’s about sharing beliefs, or ideas. I don’t think it means dividing the world into us (who know) and them (who don’t). I do think it means to show Jesus to others. And we can only do that if we allow Jesus to work through us. How do we do that? Love, care for, have compassion on, help – all those uncomfortable things that leave us in the deep and vulnerable. And we are asked to do this with equanimity to ordinary people in their ordinary lives as they are now, and as we are now.

The result is always unpredictable and beyond our wildest expectations, when we let go of the controls and let Jesus take over.

Compiled from :

Arland J. Hultgren

https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=506

Elisabeth Johnson

https://www.workingpreacher.org/preaching.aspx?commentary_id=1560
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Advent: Week 4

Luke 1:39-44

³⁹In those days Mary arose and went with haste into the hill country, to a city of Judah, ⁴⁰and she entered the house of Zechari′ah and greeted Elizabeth. ⁴¹And when Elizabeth heard the greeting of Mary, the babe leaped in her womb; and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit ⁴²and she exclaimed with a loud cry, “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the fruit of your womb! ⁴³And why is this granted me, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? ⁴⁴For behold, when the voice of your greeting came to my ears, the babe in my womb leaped for joy.

Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (RSVCE)

The Revised Standard Version of the Bible: Catholic Edition, copyright © 1965, 1966 the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Commentary

I think Mary and Elizabeth knew just how ridiculous their situation was – two women, one too old to bear a child, one so young she was not yet married, yet called to bear children of promise through whom God would change the world. And they probably knew how little account the world would pay them, tucked away in the hill country of Judea, far from the courts of power and influence. And they probably knew how hard life was under Roman oppression.Yet when faced with the long odds of their situation, they did not retreat, or apologize, or despair, they sang. They sang of their confidence in the Lord’s promise to upend the powers that be, reverse the fortunes of an unjust world,and lift up all those who had been oppressed. When you’re back is to the wall,you see, and all looks grim, one of the most unexpected and powerful things you can do is sing.

Singing of light in a world of darkness is, indeed, nothing short of an act of resistance.

“We light the Advent candles against the winter light,. not “because of,”or “during,” but “against,” reminding us that the light of Advent, like the light of Christ, is a veritable protest to and resistance of the darkness that gathers all around us.

Given how much the darkness seems to have grown in recent weeks, perhaps we might give time to singing the hymns of both of Advent and Christmas. The hymns of both seasons manage to combine the realism of our world with the promise of Christ, and in this sense provide such a needed counterpoint to the dread headlines to which we’re subjected via news outlets,on the one hand, and the falsely cheery “Christmas songs” blared across the cultural airwaves this month on the other.

Caught between the false dichotomy of despair and optimism, Mary and Elizabeth remind us that of another way, the way of hope.Hope, you see, implies circumstances that are dark or difficult enough to require us to look beyond ourselves for rescue and relief so that we might hear again and anew God’s promise to hold onto us through all that might come and bring us victorious to the other side.

However you may celebrate this Fourth Sunday in Advent, give thanks for your voice raised in song and proclamation, announcing that Jesus Christ is the light of the world, that light that shines on in the darkness, the light the darkness has neither understood nor overcome. It is a song worth singing yet again

David Lose

The archangel Gabriel has extended his astounding invitation. Mary has given her astonishing yes.Now she is alone—suddenly, entirely, dangerously alone—save for the unlikely child she now carries.

She flees: toward her kinswoman, toward refuge, toward sanctuary.

In the home of Elizabeth, in the company of her cousin who is herself pregnant in most unusual circumstances, Mary finds what she most needs. Elizabeth gathers and enfolds her. Welcomes her. Blesses her.

In response to Elizabeth’s blessing, Mary sings. And how she sings! She sings of a God who brings down the powerful, who lifts up the lowly, who fills the hungry with good things.Strangely, wonderfully, Mary sings of a God who not only will do these things, but who has done these things. She sings as if God has already accomplished the redemption and restoration of the world.

O my friends, this is what a blessing has the power to do. The blessing that Elizabeth speaks and enacts through her words, her welcome, her gift of sanctuary: such a blessing has the power to help us, like Mary, speak the word we most need to offer. Such a blessing gives us a glimpse of the redemption that God, in God’s strange sense of time, has somehow already accomplished. Such a blessing stirs up in us the strength to participate with God in bringing about this redemption in this time, in this world.

Where will we go, like Mary, to find and receive such a blessing?

How will we open our heart, like Elizabeth, to offer it?

Jan Richardson

www.textweek.com

Advent: Week 3

Luke 3:10-18

¹⁰And the multitudes asked him, “What then shall we do?” ¹¹And he answered them, “He who has two coats, let him share with him who has none; and he who has food, let him do likewise.” ¹²Tax collectors also came to be baptized, and said to him, “Teacher, what shall we do?” ¹³And he said to them, “Collect no more than is appointed you.”¹⁴Soldiers also asked him, “And we, what shall we do?” And he said to them, “Rob no one by violence or by false accusation, and be content with your wages.”

¹⁵As the people were in expectation, and all men questioned in their hearts concerning John, whether perhaps he were the Christ, ¹⁶John answered them all, “I baptize you with water; but he who is mightier than I is coming, the thong of whose sandals I am not worthy to untie; he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. ¹⁷His winnowing fork is in his hand, to clear his threshing floor, and to gather the wheat into his granary, but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.”

¹⁸So, with many other exhortations, he preached good news to the people.

Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (RSVCE)

Commentary

Last week, Luke introduced us to the adult John the Baptist, taking pains to anchor John’s preaching in the historical context of the day. We noticed that Luke was audacious enough to believe that the events and people he described – last week John’s ministry, this week John’s message,next week the meeting of Elizabeth and Mary – were as important on the stage of world history as were any of the mighty rulers Luke names.

This week covers the second half of Luke’s account of John’s ministry and we discover that, according to Luke, John is a fairly “old school” preacher who can’t resist a three-point sermon. The first point is eschatological warning of the coming end of time. The second revolves around ethical exhortation, instructing hearers how to prepare for this end. And the third point is the announcement and expectation of the coming messiah.

What’s striking about these points is that, put along sidethe drama of the eschatological warning and messianic expectation, John’sethical exhortation seems rather mild, even a bit lame. I mean, in response to the crowds understandable reaction to John’s warning — asking the prophet “What shall we do?” — John basically tells them that they out to be honest (“Collect no more than the amount prescribed for you”), be kind (“Whoever has two coats must share with anyone who has none; and whoever has food must do likewise”)and to work hard (“Do not extort money from anyone by threats or false accusation, and be satisfied with your wages.”).

Come on, John, I’m tempted to ask, is that really all? This is pretty much what we learned in kindergarten. Is this really all it takes to avoid eschatological judgment and enter into paradise?

Apparently, according to John, the answer is, Yes!

Or more accurately, perhaps it’s more that everything –from warning and expectation to ethical exhortation – looks different in lightof the coming Christ. Jesus’ coming, John implies, affects every dimension of our lives, including how we regard each other and our ethical obligations to one another and the world. The kingdom, that is, doesn’t show up only in grand actions or heroic deeds. Rather, in the simple acts of sharing what we have,being honest with each other, and working hard and resisting the urge to be bullies, we are helping to usher in the kingdom that Jesus will soon announce.

Okay, look, I know that we don’t bring the kingdom; God does. But it seems like one of the chief ways through which we can witness to God’s coming kingdom is to actually live like it’s here, like we believe it’s really coming, like we think it actually matters.

Which means that we have opportunities all around us to be the ordinary saints John calls us to be. And lest we think our everyday actions of being honest, kind, and hardworking don’t matter, ask yourself this: What would it look like if the political candidates running for president acted this way? What about our elected leaders? Or our law enforcement officers? I suspect our world work a whole lot better.

But let’s not stop there. Let’s get more personal: What would it look like if we went out from church looking for opportunities to be honest, kind, and hardworking? What if we determined to seek out such opportunities because we’ve heard that extraordinary acts of grace are within the reach of ordinary people. What if we believed – and acted on the belief – that being honest, kind, and hardworking in a culture that is impatient, immature, and fearful really makes a difference.

Keep in mind where we’re at. Not just two weeks shy of Christmas, but living in a nation and world constantly afraid that the next terrorist crime or random act of violence will happen around our street corner.And because of this fear we change how we live and, at times, even risk forgetting who we are. And when we do that, the terrorists win. So what might happen if we pledged that in light of the dangerous world we live in we intended to redouble our efforts to be honest, kind, and hardworking, meeting the needs of those around us, reaching out to help those who struggle, and in all these ways witness to our confidence that Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection make a difference? I think what would happen is that we would not only have a demonstrably better world but also a more vibrant church, one animated by John’s conviction that “all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

What John offers them, that is, is entirely within our reach. It may not be easy – we get accustomed to getting what we want and hoarding what we have – but it is still possible. Nor does John ask us to leave our current stations. The day after hearing John preach, presumably, the tax collectors are still collecting and the mercenaries still soldiering. But they are doing it better, dong it differently, doing it with the needs of their neighbours before them.

Which is interesting, when you think about it. I mean,caught between eschatological judgment and messianic consummation, the crowds hear John speak of a role in the coming kingdom they can play. It demands neither monastic asceticism nor spiritual pilgrimage. John invites them to participate in God’s coming kingdom wherever they are and whatever they may be doing. All they need just enough faith to God at work in and through the ordinary and mundane elements of our lives.

This is a promise that we are all invited into. Wherever we may be and whatever we may be doing. In business? Conduct it fairly and with the community in mind. At home with children? Raise them to love God by loving their neighbours. Teaching? Do so with patience and hope. Looking for work?Don’t underestimate the good you can do others even without a job. Studying at school. Learning everything you can and put it to work to make this world a better place. Caring for those with special needs? Remember that of such is the kingdom of heaven made (and give yourself a break when it’s hard to remember).And the list goes on.

Yes, this is a promise that we are all invited into. Or, to put it another way, this is a promise for those living “in the meantime.” We too, you see, are caught between judgment and hope every day of our lives, even when we don’t name it that way. The judgment may not feel eschatological; it may just be not living up to others’ or our own expectations. And the hope may not always be messianic; it may just be the deep desire that things will get better. But wherever we are, John has a message for those living in the meantime, struggling to be faithful in the time between the giving of the promise and its being kept once and for all.

I know all this can seem like small potatoes when the whole world feels at times like it’s falling apart. But I think that’s part of John’s message – and Jesus’ witness – that precisely because God has promised to redeem all creation in due time, we are free – here and now – to tend the little corner of the world in which we find ourselves. There are, according to John and Jesus, no small gestures, but rather varied – and contagious! – acts of both random and intentional kindness and honesty that really do make a difference in the world, particularly when caught up in the faith that in Jesus, God has drawn near to shower us – all of us – with the good news of grace, mercy, and redemption.

David Lose

Advent Week 2

Luke 3:1-6

3 In the fifteenth year of the reign of Tibe′ri-us Caesar, Pontius Pilate being governor of Judea, and Herod being tetrarch of Galilee, and his brother Philip tetrarch of the region of Iturae′a and Trachoni′tis, and Lysa′ni-as tetrarch of Abile′ne, ²in the high-priesthood of Annas and Ca′iaphas,^[^a^] the word of God came to John the son of Zechari′ah in the wilderness; ³and he went into all the region about the Jordan, preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins. ⁴As it is written in the book of the words of Isaiah the prophet,

“The voice of one crying in the wilderness:
Prepare the way of the Lord,
make his paths straight.
⁵Every valley shall be filled,
and every mountain and hill shall be brought low,
and the crooked shall be made straight,
and the rough ways shall be made smooth;
⁶and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”

Footnotes:

3.2 See note on Jn 18.13.

Revised Standard Version Catholic Edition (RSVCE)

Commentary from http://www.textweek.com

Today’s Gospel begins not with the Baptist’s ringing call to repentance, but with a long and detailed list of rulers. Luke’s litany of imperial, regional, and religious authorities does more than date John’s ministry to 28 or 29 CE. It also contrasts human kingdoms with God’s reign. The claims to authority that Tiberius or Herod or the high priest may make are not ultimate. God’s people owe allegiance first and foremost to God. And it is God’s word that sets John’s ministry in motion. John has been commissioned to prepare the way not for lord Caesar or any earthly lordling, but for the one true Lord.

Preparing the Lord’s path toward peace requires overturning the world as we know it. Preparing for God’s arrival means rethinking systems and structures that we see as normal but that God condemns as oppressive and crooked. It means letting God humble everything that is proud and self-satisfied in us, and letting God heal and lift up what is broken and beaten down. The claims that the world’s authorities make often conflict with God’s claims. Paths that seem satisfactory to us are not good enough for God. John calls us to let God’s bulldozers reshape the world’s social systems and the landscape of our own minds and hearts.

Judith Jones

I just love Luke’s audacity!

He is, as you probably know, of all the Evangelists the one who identifies most self-consciously as a historian. (Not a twenty-first century historian, mind you, but a first century one!) For this reason, Luke writes a formal introduction to his Gospel, the only one of the four to do so. This also explains Luke’s concern with naming various political leaders on the scene in Luke 2:1ff. and in today’s reading. As a historian, he wants to anchor the events he describes in the larger political and historical scene of the world.

And that’s where his audacity comes in. Because, quite frankly, most other historians would probably think Luke is crazy. Consider: John the Baptist is an itinerant preacher doing his ministry out in the wilderness – you know, the place nobody goes, at least not by choice. And so the “event” Luke describes would hardly count as an event at all to other historians.

So what’s John doing among Luke’s veritable list of “who’s who” in ancient Palestine? Well, according to Luke, John – a “nobody” by all other historical accounts – just happens to be the one to whom the Word of the Lord came. John. Not the Emperor, or governor, or various rulers, or the high priests of the day, but John.

God chose a nobody, in other words, to prepare the way for God’s own Son to come amongst us. And that happens to be a particular theme of Luke that might be worth identifying: that God regularly chooses people whom the world sees as insignificant through whom to do marvellous things. John the Baptist, Mary the illiterate unwed mom and teenager, the no account shepherds at the very bottom of the economic ladder who serve as the audience for the heavenly choir. Again and again, Luke confesses, God chooses people the world can easily ignore to participate in God’s world-changing, world-saving activity.

I suspect that there are any number of folks who feel that they don’t hold any particularly important position that would warrant being included in anyone’s “who’s who list” and yet whom God may be eager to use to do wonderful things.

Might we therefore awaken to the possibility that we don’t have to be celebrities or rulers or among the rich and powerful to be used by God? Might we remember that God is eager to use our talents and abilities and gifts to change the world, if even in what seems like very small ways that are, of course, not small at all to those who receive such gifts? Might we see God at work through their relationships, jobs, family and civic life and more to make this world more trustworthy and good?

If so, then we are each called, I think, to be audacious historians in the pattern of Luke. We are each called, that is, to remind each other that God is at work in and through our lives for the sake of the world God loves so much.

We need to see God present in our lives and at work in our activities. And this might be a great week to do that, as each of us has the potential to be a local “John the Baptist,” a veritable nobody to whom the Word of the Lord came and through whom God prepared the way for the coming Christ so that, indeed, all people might see and receive God’s salvation.

God in Christ comes for us, and God also uses us to care for this world.
David Lose piry”: 1550396800.015353, “mode”: “force-https”, “pkp_include_subdomains”: false, “pkp_observed”: 0.0, “sts_include_subdomains”: false, “sts_observed”: 1518860800.015353 }, “b+1zAjx7TfZR0tau/Dayr1KXpJsp8wekXoIt8+pqvbs=”: { “dynamic_spki_hashes_expiry”: 0.0, “expiry”: 1556195909.395625, “mode”: “force-https”, “pkp_include_subdomains”: false, “pkp_observed”: 0.0, “sts_include_subdomains”: true, “sts_observed”: 1524659909.395625 }, “bI+YLH1MTLeA8h9kh5Ev4d+Af8g1Kgm+f4rvoCBhnfg=”: { “dynamic_spki_hashes_expiry”: 0.0, “expiry”: 1559298294.575, “mode”: “force-https”, “pkp_include_subdomains”: false, “pkp_observed”: 0.0, “sts_includ

Photographs from Earth Meditation on the 24th November.

Geoff brought out his phone, or we would have not had any photographs. Thank you Geoff!

Did I mention it was cold and rainy? Tania and I had just finished “Dadirri” styled meditation during a break in the clouds.

No doubt there was a deep and meaningful question being asked!

There was a lovely little pond, complete with ducks and frogs under the wings of the misty mountain.

The start of a memorial cairn, with Geoff the photographer (in light blue) included for once, because Tania was taking it.

Vicki enjoying the weather

Father John Dupuche, our generous, genial and gentle host who directed the retreat.

down to the river to paddle was the plan, but we changed our minds

Michael even brought the towels in case anyone was brave enough

The beautiful Yarra in full flow, capturing the light and movement on a cold misty day. The Earth is alive to us, in us and through us. It empowers and revitalises us.