Tag Archives: Jesus

Puppy dogs

Do not give what is holy to dogs; and do not throw your pearls before swine, or they will trample them under foot and turn and maul you. (Matthew’s Gospel chapter 7 verse 6)

 Can Jesus really have said something like this? Biblical scholars are divided on this one. I wonder if there’s a clue to the puzzle in chapter 15 verses 21 – 28 of Matthew’s Gospel: a story often quoted as the only example in the New Testament of Jesus changing his mind. He is being pestered by a Canaanite woman with a sick daughter and his response is, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.” Us Christians easily forget that Jesus was a Jew, steeped in what we call the Old Testament with its wonderful visions of the destiny of Israel as a focus for universal salvation. I can understand how Jesus might have wanted to confine himself to his fellow Jews as the best way to achieve his mission.

Surely these two stories relate to the same encounter? In the second one in chapter 15 there’s a subtle difference in the Greek word for dog. Here it might be translated ‘puppy’ which gives the story a different feel. In chapter 7 the story is followed by ‘Ask, and it will be given you….’ and that is exactly the point of the story in chapter 15. The woman persists in asking in spite of the off-putting response she gets at first from Jesus.

Now, I know from my limited personal experience that prayer is answered, sometimes in extraordinary ways, but the experience is by no means straightforward and I feel uneasy when this mysterious process becomes the primary focus of religious events from Lourdes pilgrimages to Pentecostal healing services. I’ll need a separate posting to explore this one.

Returning briefly to the dogs in verse 6, I feel on much firmer ground with the Buddhist maxim – ‘when the pupil is ready the teacher appears’. It’s no good teaching, or offering good news about Life with a capital L when people are not ready for it. There are appropriate moments and discerning them, waiting with alert patience for them, is vital otherwise the pearls will get lost in the mud.

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Rehab.

Do not judge, so that you may not be judged. For with the judgement you make you will be judged, and the measure you give will be the measure you get. Why do you see the speck in your neighbour’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye? (Matthew chapter 7 verses 1 – 4)

Is Jesus offering here a rehabilitation programme for our addiction to worry, anxiety and resentment? Yes he is. However, the word ‘judgement’ carries heavy overtones for us, doesn’t it? (See my post for September 25th, The Sound Eye.) Yet, ‘Do not judge…’ are three of the most important words in the New Testament, provided that we read also the words that follow “…..so that you may not be judged. For with the judgement you make, you will be judged and the measure you give will be the measure you get.” For most of us, the rehabilitation programme starts when we stop judging ourselves. 

Faced with addiction of any kind we ask, ‘how do I get out of this?’ and we are inclined to give ourselves the answer, ‘if I were you I wouldn’t start from here’. But here, however, is the only possible place anyone can ever start from. We’ll look at this in more detail later when we deal with verse 13 of this chapter: “Enter by the narrow gate…”

Starting from here, in this moment, besieged and beset by our addictive behaviour is the only way forward. It is so obvious that we cannot start anywhere else but it is so counter-intuitive that we try every strategy except that of recognising and therefore welcoming the situation we’re in. ‘I don’t want to be here’ is what we are often saying and our response to that is to rush through what we are doing, or struggle with attitudes and thoughts we wish we weren’t having.

So here is the first step in our rehabilitation programme – notice the log.

And here is the crucial bit: just notice it, drop all judgement about it. Don’t immediately slap a label on it. And by the way I’m talking here not just about things we label ‘bad’ but also things we label ‘good’. Stick a label on something and you are … well….stuck with it!!

Please note that we are talking here about the vital first step. In the words of a famous hymn, ‘Just as I am, without one plea….’ Only after this first crucial step does the next one become clearer. Only then are we able to return to the practice of the presence of God. Actually, taking this first step opens up for us, however briefly, the peaceful vista of the promised land. Being the kind of people we are, it’s a step we have to keep on keeping on taking.

The sound eye

Matthew’s Gospel chapter 6 verses 22 & 23

“The eye is the lamp of the body. So if your eye is healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eye is unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness.”

Open your eyes and light enters your body. That’s what people once believed, apparently in a simple, literal way. But here Jesus is pointing to something deeper and the 1611 King James Version gets nearer to what I think Jesus intended. It says, “…if therefore thine eye be single…” and “But if thine be evil….”.

An old lady spots a group of hoodies ahead so she crosses the road, being afraid of them. She falls and is momentarily concussed. When she comes round she finds herself surrounded by the hoodies anxiously caring for her. One of them has phoned for an ambulance.

We make lightning quick judgements on the basis of what we see. Often we are wrong. Our eyes give us information only about this instant. They don’t recall the past and they cannot foresee the future. The brain does that.

On several occasions Jesus asks, “Do you see this woman?” He is asking people to stop making judgements on the basis of what they have seen in the past so that they can actually see this person in front of them here and now. Seeing in this way is actually a form of repentance. Take a look at my second post in this blog: The Heart of the Matter, to see what I mean.

Wordsworth got it right in his poem, Lines composed a few miles above Tintern Abbey:

“While with an eye made quiet by the power
of harmony, and the deep power of joy,
we see into the life of things.”

Jesus gently pulls our legs about this truth in the story at the beginning of chapter 7: “Why do you see the speck in your neighbour’s eye, but do not notice the log in your own eye?” We might say the logs are not in our eyes, they are in our brains. They are the judgements we so quickly make, like the old lady and the hoodies.

Since writing that last sentence, two days ago, I have become the victim of a telephone scam aimed particularly at older people. The caller pretended to be a policeman. He invited me to disconnect and dial 999 to verify this. Apparently, because the caller didn’t also disconnect, my 999 call went straight back to his telephone and I was therefore ‘hooked’. Would the hoaxer have succeeded if I had been in eye contact with him? I very much doubt it. Like the old lady and the hoodies we are all making judgements all the time but here, without eye contact I got it seriously wrong. I shall explore this in a later blog post when I get to chapter 7: “Do not judge, so that you may not be judged.”

Who needs religion?

Only in chapter 6 does Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount get round to religion. Almsgiving, prayer, fasting: apparently we should do these things secretly –

  • verse 3: “But when you give alms do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing.”
  • verse 6: “But whenever you pray, go into your room and shut the door and pray to your Father who is in secret….”
  • verse 18: “….so that your fasting may be seen not by others but by your Father who is in secret….”

So why do we make prayer such a public activity? Lots of people find it difficult to get a rhythm of private spiritual practice going. They do most of their praying when they go to a church service. If we look at Luke’s account of Jesus teaching his followers to pray we might think he had to be persuaded to do it. Luke chapter 11 has one of the disciples saying, “Lord, teach us to pray as John taught his disciples”. Luke seems to suggest that they had watched Jesus at prayer and wanted to know how to do it. If John could teach his disciples, why couldn’t Jesus do the same?

What the sermon on the mount seems to suggest, what Jesus seems to suggest, is that there is something more important than simply going to church. Religious practice, going to church (challenging and uplifting as it often is), may not deal with the junk in our personal cellars (see my last two blog posts). Indeed this junk, often labelled ‘the ego’, gets in the way so much that our religious practice may actually encourage it. Think of Luke’s story of the Pharisee and the tax collector at prayer in the temple (Luke chapter 18 verses 9 – 14). This is why the basic stance of prayer is confession, by which I mean, no deception (of myself or anyone else). Confession is nothing to do with grovelling guilt. It is the simple, honest, acknowledgement that this is me, warts and all, at this moment. No ifs, no buts, just me with all this junk in the cellar.

Now, here’s the miracle, the good news. We discover that this basic stance turns out to be not just confession but confession/forgiveness: a dynamic, perpetual process. Look at verse 14 and compare it with Mark chapter11 verse 25 and John chapter 20 verse 22/3. Clearly, for the Gospel writers, forgiveness is central to whatever we mean by prayer, indeed for the whole Christian way of life. As the American novelist Saul Bellow wrote, “The forgiveness of sins is perpetual and righteousness first is not required”. Amen to that.

What lurks in the cellar?

Matthew’s Gospel, the Sermon on the Mount, chapter 5 verses 17 – 26

We should be like cows grazing in the meadow. Coming to a thistle, it is best not to get upset: just move gently on to some fresh green grass. In this sermon on the mount meadow I come to verses 17 – 20: several thistles! Some scholars think these verses represent the struggle of those very first Christians in Jerusalem (Jews, remember) as they tried to reconcile their profound experience of Jesus with their Jewish upbringing. Since I am not attempting a scholarly blog I can quietly let the scholars get on with their (important) discussions and move on.

The grass gets greener in verse 20:

“For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom.”

It looks like a thistle at first sight but look at what follows in the rest of this chapter 5. We get a series of sayings each beginning with, “You have heard it said…..but I say to you…..” Each one highlights a practical outcome of the shift in consciousness I talked about in my last post. If they look impossible to achieve that’s because we haven’t ‘repented’: we haven’t made the shift into the kingdom consciousness. We haven’t learned how to ‘let go and let God’. Therefore we don’t know who we truly are.

Perhaps Jesus got a bit frustrated with people who asked him for a ‘sign’ (see Matthew 24: 23-27; Luke 11:29; John 4:48). They were looking everywhere for the truth except inwards. John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, was already an Anglican priest when he heard a sermon in a Moravian church in Fetter Lane, London. He reported, “I felt my heart strangely warmed”. Now, I cannot ‘strangely warm’ my heart to order. Such an experience is not mine to manipulate. It is a gift. I can receive it. I can ignore it, or even reject it. I cannot make it happen. I can put myself in the way of it, hope for it, ask for it. If I have eyes to see, ears to hear, if I let go of all that I think I know, I discover that the gift has already been given. I discover that it was lying there within me, unopened, all the time. It might be hidden amongst the junk I have collected in my search for meaning and truth but it was there from the beginning.

What follows in Matthew’s Sermon on the Mount are examples of how the junk gets in the way: anger, for example, in verses 21-26. Here I am, feeling angry with someone, just at the moment when I want to do something good: to offer my gift at the altar, as Jesus puts it. What to do? Deal with the anger first, says Jesus. That means first, accept that I am feeling angry. Trying to ignore it, push it away, won’t help. That’s just pushing around the junk in the cellar of my mind, disturbing a lot of dust maybe, anything but finding the gift that lies there in the depths of my being. So step one is, accept that I am feeling angry. I’ve picked up a piece of my mental junk. Step two: don’t throw it away in disgust. That just raises more dust and disturbs the other junk that’s lying around. Put in down gently and wait. What then becomes clearer is the next step. That’s the wonder of the gift of the strangely warmed heart. The next step may indeed be to go and say sorry, or explore gently with the other person why I’m feeling angry with them. Quite often, though, such a step becomes unnecessary once I have gently put the anger junk down. It simply subsides. Notice I keep using the word ‘gently’. Getting agitated about feeling angry is, well, more junk! It’s like worrying about being worried.

So where is this gift of the strangely warmed heart? Why can’t I find it? Well, I’ll never find it so long as I keep poking about amongst the junk in the cellar. It’s not just another package. Stand still amongst all the clutter. Wait, quietly. Look! It’s the whole cellar!! And here’s the astonishing good news. If dealing with the junk takes me down into this wonderful cellar then even the junk is useful. Tempting junk? Bring it on because it can help me discover who I truly am in the depths of my being!!

The silent revolution

Matthew chapter 5 verses 1 – 9.
Here we are at one of the most familiar passages in the Bible: these few short verses, known as the Beatitudes, followed by the longer sequence of teaching known as the Sermon on the Mount. Impossible to put into practice – right? That’s what most of us think, especially if we have sincerely tried. But suppose we are not reading it right. Suppose we have always heard this teaching as a list of very difficult demands. Jesus often talked about ‘those who have ears to hear’ or ‘eyes to see’; and certainly we can be both deaf and blind to the truth he wants us to see and hear. Why? Because we think it is head stuff, but actually it’s heart stuff. Do I mean it’s mostly about feelings? No. It’s deeper than feelings. Cynthia Bourgeault writes:

“In these eight familiar sayings we can now see that Jesus is talking about a radical transformation of consciousness, embraced through an attitude of inner receptivity; a willingness to enter the flow; a commitment to domesticate those violent animal programmes within us; and above all a passionate desire the unify the heart. This is a very powerful fourfold path…..not unlike the teaching you would hear today from the Dalai Lama and other great spiritual masters who have dedicated their lives to increasing the quality and quantity of human consciousness.” The Wisdom Jesus, page 47.

For most of Christian history only a few outstanding people have understood this teaching. We have called them saints, so unusual have their lives been. But now, perhaps, we find ourselves in the midst of a silent revolution in which more and more ordinary people do have eyes to see and ears to hear the truth Jesus is pointing to. Curiously, many of them have little connection with religion, with the churches. Those of us who stay connected to organised religion can find it pretty frustrating. This silent revolution has been gathering pace for more than a hundred years now. I began this blog last year on the hundredth anniversary of a book by Evelyn Underhill in which she wrote:

“The energising Spirit of Life cannot be communicated in a sermon. Hence the greater number of Paul’s converts quickly degenerated into mere formal believers, once the stimulus of his great personality was withdrawn. Thus the distinction between the inner and the outer church, so strongly marked in the Synoptic gospels, was, if not acknowledged, at once established; the outer church of new creed, the inner church of new creatures, of organic change and growth. We must…..sharply distinguish ‘Christian Mysticism’, the transcendent yet biological secret of Jesus, from the compromise which is commonly called ‘Christianity.” The Mystic Way, page 214/15

In 1936 Teilhard de Chardin, the Jesuit palaeontologist, wrote:


”We now have to accept it as proven that mankind has just entered into what is probably the most extensive period of transformation it has known since its Birth… Today something is happening to the whole structure of human consciousness: a fresh kind of life is beginning to appear.”(Science and Christ)

I can offer just a few clues about what these verses have come to mean for me. I do this very cautiously because, unless you come to see for yourself, hear for yourself, you will be in danger of staying in your head instead of shifting to your heart. When the shift happens you will see and hear and understand.

Verse 3. Blessed are the poor in spirit. Sometimes I feel I am a failure in spiritual matters: forever coping with unloving thoughts and attitudes.
Verse 4: Blessed are those who mourn. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the images on the television screen showing the folly and dysfunction of the world. As I write this, aren’t we all deeply affected by yet another outbreak of conflict between Israelis and Palestinians?
Verse 5. Blessed are the meek. Someone once added, for they will inherit the earth, er….if it’s all right with you!
Verse 6. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. Again this speaks to my sense of helplessness and weakness, when confronted with human folly and dysfunction, of which I am part.
Verse 7: Blessed are the merciful. The root of the word merciful means something like exchange, as in merchant and commerce. The French for ‘thank you’ – merci – has the same root. Resolution of any conflict involves compromise and that means some form of exchange.
Verse 8: Blessed are the pure in heart. For me this has little to do with impure thoughts. Rather it’s about singleness of heart: returning to centre when suffering the afflictions of the first five beatitudes.
Verse 9: Blessed are the peacemakers. That is people whose language reflects meekness, mercy, poverty of spirit; people who are likely say ‘in my humble opinion’; people who are non-violent communicators.
Verse 10. Blessed are the persecuted. How fortunate I am! Here in the UK I am extremely unlikely to be persecuted in the way that, for example, Christians in Syria are. Yet persecution happens all around me. We call it abuse. I can even persecute myself: accuse, threaten, berate myself!

The light dawns

Matthew chapter 4 verses 12 to 17.
Still following Mark’s general pattern, Matthew now comes to the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He is fond of introducing ‘Old Testament’ quotations by way of making his point. Here he gives us a passage from Isaiah:

‘Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles,
the people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned.’

I am reminded of a little liturgical piece. (I can’t trace its origin – can anyone help?) The question is asked

How will I know when the dawn breaks?

And each time there’s a different answer:

You will see through to the innocence of others….
You will move in the world more freely…..
You will notice yourself more clearly…..
You will exist in the world more generously…..
You will suffer in the world more lightly…..
When you accept the night as a friend, the dawn has already broken…..

In verse 17 Matthew follows Mark with Jesus’ proclamation:
Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.
I dealt in detail with this crucial summary of Jesus’ teaching in one of my earliest blog posts.  See The Heart of the Matter on Mark’s Gospel, chapter 1 verses 14 & 15

How to resist temptation – DON’T!

Matthew chapter 4 verses 1 – 11

Did Jesus win the battle with Satan when he was tempted in the desert? No he didn’t. Not if you think of dealing with temptation as the kind of warfare so much in the news. To get nearer the truth we must borrow from Japanese martial arts techniques. Here strength is not met with opposing strength but with a cunning yielding that uses the opponent’s physical impetus. By going with the flow of the assailant’s attack he is taken off balance and floored. Most of us know from experience that resisting temptation, fighting it, seems only to increase its power. We lose the battle too often and get discouraged. If you find the image of ‘spiritual warfare’ helpful, think less of nuclear strikes and more of ju jitsu.

Yet again we find hints, hidden gems suggesting this approach, in the Christian contemplative tradition. The anonymous author of the 14th century spiritual classic, The Cloud of Unknowing, (one of the earliest books written in the then emerging English language) speaks of ‘looking over the shoulder’ of temptations. Thomas Keating http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Keating is an American monk who has helped to recover this ancient Christian tradition of contemplative prayer. Using The Cloud of Unknowing he advises us to welcome temptation. Each distraction, every tempting thought is an opportunity to return to ‘the Presence at the heart of the universe that therefore is at the heart of each one of us,’ (to use the words with which I ended my previous blog post). With others Fr. Keating developed Centering Prayer – a 21st century adaptation of the approach adopted in The Cloud of Unknowing. In designated times of contemplative prayer the advice is to remember the four ‘R’s:

Resist no thought.

Retain no thought.

React emotionally to no thought.

Return ever so gently to the sacred word (a Christian version of what Buddhists would call a mantra).

We have all forgotten who we are. Fr. Keating suggests that we are all the victims of ‘programmes for happiness’, devices designed to prop up who we think we are – the false self. Happiness, we fondly imagine, depends upon us satisfying three sets of needs:

Power/control

Security/survival

Esteem affection.

I suggest that these three pairs of needs correspond to the three temptations in Matthew’s story of Jesus in the desert.

Which of these is uppermost for each of us depends on our unique history and make-up as well as the demands of each present situation. Spiritual ‘warfare’ is mostly a patient training (like attending a martial arts class) to learn how to spot our own personal version of these programmes for happiness. With practice we learn to see the temptation coming and welcome it as yet another opportunity to return to the truth about who we are. So, the advice goes: temptation? Bring it on! It’s a reminder to return to that Presence at the centre of our being that is also the centre of the universe.

You can read an extended exploration of all this in Cynthia Bourgeault’s book, Centering Prayer and Inner Awakening, chapter 9 http://www.contemplative.org/books.html or in Thomas Keating’s book, Invitation to Love http://www.amazon.com/Invitation-Love-The-Christian-Contemplation/dp/082640698X

Matthew’s Gospel

So far in this blog the focus has been Mark’s Gospel. Now it’s time to turn to Matthew. The author of this gospel had a copy of Mark and borrowed passages from it. Perhaps he had a more strongly Jewish background. Although he follows Mark’s general pattern, he expands it a lot, usually with Jewish Christian readers in mind. Some scholars suggest Matthew mirrored the Pentateuch (the first five books of what Christians call the Old Testament) with his own five sections:

  1. The Sermon on the Mount. Chapters 5, 6 and 7
  2. Instructions for the twelve Apostles. Chapters 9 verse 35 to 10 verse 42.
  3. Parables. Chapter 13.
  4. Community regulations. Chapter 18.
  5. Condemnations and judgements. Chapters 23, 24 and 25.

There’s a wrap-up verse or two, the scholars suggest, at the end of each of these sections: Chapters 7 verses 28-29; 11 verse 1; 13 verse 53; 19 verse 1; and 26 verses 1-2.

So, focusing on Jesus as a Wisdom Teacher, the elusive Jesus of Nazareth (please see my very first blog post for this approach) we start with John the Baptist in chapter 3 who had an important influence on Jesus. John baptises Jesus and it’s clearly a profound experience for him (for Jesus, I mean). Following Mark here, Matthew goes straight on to Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness in chapter 4 verses 1 to 11. He expands Mark’s terse account (Mark chapter 1 verses 12 and 13) in a way which later Christians found helpful as they searched in the third and fourth centuries for clues about the spirituality of Jesus. These ‘desert fathers’ as they are called (though women were probably involved as well) had gone into the Egyptian desert to try and recover the essence of Christian spirituality. They spotted that Jesus dealt with temptation by using verses of scripture. Remember, no one was actually there in the desert with Jesus so he must have taught his followers this technique for coping with temptation.

You don’t believe in the devil? Neither do I but sometimes it feels as if what goes on in my mind is part of a deliberate policy to unsettle me! Perhaps Matthew did believe in the devil. It doesn’t matter. The point is that temptation is taken seriously here in chapter 4. “If you are the Son of God…..” The lure of the first two temptations is, ‘so you think you have a calling? think you’re someone special do you? Well then, surely you should have these special powers’. On holiday recently I found myself thinking, ‘what’s the point of all my meditating when it doesn’t make me special? All these people around me on this lovely sunny Greek island seem quite happy without all the spiritual stuff that I try to practice. Surely I ought to stand out from the crowd?’ But, what if I stop expecting anything special? What if I carry on with my daily spiritual routine without any expectation? What if I just try to be present, to live each moment as it comes, without foresight, without forethought? Hmm! Jesus had something to say about that kind of attitude in what we call the sermon on the mount, later in this Gospel. 

“All these I will give you……” This, the third temptation, is still surprisingly relevant to me, even in my ninth decade. I can still find myself regretting my lack of achievement, feeling I should have ‘made it’ in some way; or that I haven’t been recognized enough. This is the temptation to enter the kingdom of ego and pursue power, profit and reputation at the expense of truth. Of course younger people should exercise power, create profitable businesses, be successful politicians. Without all this human society can hardly function. The temptation however is to lose sight of the truth about who we are, to forget our essential vulnerability, to lose touch with the still, silent, immense Presence at the heart of the universe that therefore is at the heart of each one of us. More on these temptations in my next blog post in about a week’s time.

Awakened consciousness: living the resurrection

I belong to a dispersed community called Contemplative Fire and here is the Easter message from the founder, Philip Roderick, to all of us ‘Companions on the Way’ as we are called. Most of us are in the UK but there are others in Canada and even Hawaii. Philip writes:

Christ is risen! Alleluia! How is this mystery to be revealed this week, this day, this moment in my life, your life, our life? As the darkness of night gives way to the lightness of dawn (as I write), and as the dying back of winter gives rise to the buds, leaves, blossoms and fragrances of spring, how do you and I discover an Alleluia in our own awareness, lifestyle and service?

I am inspired by the work of Cynthia Bourgeault. I was delighted to learn in Wisdom Jesus of her gratitude to Jim Marion’s Putting on the Mind of Christ, where he explores a different way of interpreting Jesus’ often-repeated phrase “the kingdom of heaven”. He sees this as a metaphor for a state of consciousness, “It is a whole new way of looking at the world, a transformed awareness…” So, “the kingdom could well be translated as “awakened consciousness” or “unitive consciousness”. So often, Jesus would begin a teaching by saying “The kingdom of God is like….” Could a way of doing full justice to the inner structure of his teaching be to say: “Awakened consciousness is like….”?

Living in the awareness of God’s kingdom was the clear focus and aspiration of the Jesus mystery, expressed in his teaching of the close disciples and the crowds. The main challenge to that unitive state and liberated intention during Jesus’ last days was suffering and desolation, pain and disintegration. Or so it seemed to the ones who travelled deep with him. This was the end. It appeared so even to the Marys and to John, devoted followers, gathered in grief in the hellish place of absence and aridity. They were at the cross, holding on to scraps of truth in the midst of lies.

He, the awakening and the awakened one, was not only on the Cross, but in the Cross. Dying into the place of intersection. We, as his disciples, as his body, may find ourselves there also – occasionally, regularly, permanently? The point of departure proves to be the place of arrival, but in a new key, at a new level of being. In his Living Between Boundaries, Philip Sheldrake looks into the significance of a cross over a burial site – a meeting place of apparent opposites. The cross embodies a “cosmic entrance and exit point where the material world and the world of the spirit were believed to come into especially close contact.”

Consciousness of God is not tripped up and ambushed by Christ’s journey into the closed quarters of hopelessness and ultimate homelessness, into death. Rather, immersed in the turbulence of our own aspirations, trajectories and periodic buffetings, to our surprise, we discern that what, on occasion, we feel to be the end of meaning, the eschaton, the terminus, is not in fact. Chaos, we gradually discover, is able to sponsor and release from within itself a new beginning, an unfolding of divine-human solidarity; love at all levels.

Rowan Williams once wrote: “The resurrection is cross-shaped”. As with Yeshua, so with us. The rising happens from within the tomb, from inside the hidden place of dying to self. Absence yields presence. There is a greening of the desert, a leavening of the dough, a rolling of the stone, a rising of the sun. Having negotiated the Lenten beckoning to “Risk Reality”, our invitation now is to “Welcome Life“.

Happy Eastertide! May an awakened consciousness be graced to each of us!

Amen to that!