Some think that the writings in Ecclesiastes are negative and depressing. It could seem that way when you read “Everything is meaningless… completely meaningless” (1:2) and “…I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive.” (4:2). But this book is a beautiful journey filled with the poetic and nostalgic language of a man, whom near the end of his life, is navigating the hallways of his past, the room of his present, and the gardens of tomorrow. He explores the question “What is life all about” so eloquently and beautifully. When you read the book in one sitting, you get a sense that he has arrived at a conclusion and made peace with his journey. In the western world, we view life through staccato glasses; we often miss the meaningfulness of everyday moments, the beauty of the journey, the importance of light and shade, failure and success. We want to jump to all the good parts and forget the hardships. Life is a dance… not a climb or a ladder, but forward, backward, sideways, up and down motions with lessons to be learnt, times for reflection, for action, growth, joy, pain, sorrow, gladness… When we dance through these experiences, we truly live each moment and nothing is wasted. I think that's the point the author of Ecclesiastes is trying to make. He uses the word ‘meaningless’ more than 30 times in the 12th chapter, which we could take depressingly. But the original word used here is “heh’bel” meaning “vapor or breath”… He’s not saying life is meaningless, so there’s no point… He’s saying life is short, make the most of it. Whatever you find yourself doing, or whatever situation you're in, own it, live it and squeeze every last drop of growth, meaning and joy out of it that you can. It’s an encouragement to grab life with both hands, no excuses and live… truly live. Brene Brown writes, “I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness - it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” Life is a vapor, a breath... what will you find within it? We do not dance this life alone… our divine partner, our God and Saviour, is with us, showing us the steps and leading the way. Grab onto him with both hands, your whole heart, all your strength, and give life all you’ve got.
Some think that the writings in Ecclesiastes are negative and depressing. It could seem that way when you read “Everything is meaningless… completely meaningless” (1:2) and “…I declared that the dead, who had already died, are happier than the living, who are still alive.” (4:2). But this book is a beautiful journey filled with the poetic and nostalgic language of a man, whom near the end of his life, is navigating the hallways of his past, the room of his present, and the gardens of tomorrow. He explores the question “What is life all about” so eloquently and beautifully. When you read the book in one sitting, you get a sense that he has arrived at a conclusion and made peace with his journey. In the western world, we view life through staccato glasses; we often miss the meaningfulness of everyday moments, the beauty of the journey, the importance of light and shade, failure and success. We want to jump to all the good parts and forget the hardships. Life is a dance… not a climb or a ladder, but forward, backward, sideways, up and down motions with lessons to be learnt, times for reflection, for action, growth, joy, pain, sorrow, gladness… When we dance through these experiences, we truly live each moment and nothing is wasted. I think that's the point the author of Ecclesiastes is trying to make. He uses the word ‘meaningless’ more than 30 times in the 12th chapter, which we could take depressingly. But the original word used here is “heh’bel” meaning “vapor or breath”… He’s not saying life is meaningless, so there’s no point… He’s saying life is short, make the most of it. Whatever you find yourself doing, or whatever situation you're in, own it, live it and squeeze every last drop of growth, meaning and joy out of it that you can. It’s an encouragement to grab life with both hands, no excuses and live… truly live. Brene Brown writes, “I don’t have to chase extraordinary moments to find happiness - it’s right in front of me if I’m paying attention and practicing gratitude.” Life is a vapor, a breath... what will you find within it? We do not dance this life alone… our divine partner, our God and Saviour, is with us, showing us the steps and leading the way. Grab onto him with both hands, your whole heart, all your strength, and give life all you’ve got.
The Israelites were few, only a remnant, and facing a long and difficult journey. Tired and worn out physically and spiritually, many believed that God had left them. They were facing extreme loss and were aliens in a foreign land dealing with the contrast of their captivity and faith. From young to old, their spirits were frail and weak. We all face seasons that suck the strength out of us. Then we’re left with the waiting. Psychologists and people who have experienced grief will tell you that the moment of tragedy is not the hardest. ‘In the moment’ you’re full of adrenaline and directly after, there are people around helping and lending strength. It’s the aftermath, the emptiness that’s the hardest. When everyone goes home, the to-do list is done, the phone calls stop. The waiting, the stillness. The time between the lowest point and the climb back up. The time between times. (a little reference for all the Celtic history lovers). In the seasons of lost strength, it’s our hope in the divine and his love that fortifies our wastelands and brings stamina back into our tired legs. It’s the ‘waiting’ that makes us strong again. The days we pull ourselves out of bed, make ourselves eat, make those phone calls, get out of the house, keep on going, living and loving. By grace. We learn to lean into God’s strength, which is creative by nature, and it renews us day by day. We learn to rise above our weakness, grief and hardship to get an eagle's eye perspective on life and love. We will move on from this moment, but we must let this moment teach us what it can. It’s in the waiting that God does his greatest and most miraculous work – causing the weak and lifeless to learn to run again. Not hobble, but stride in strength. Louie Giglio said, “To us, waiting is wasting. To God, waiting is working.” Breathe, rest and trust. “God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energises those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. Even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.” Isa 40:29-31 (MSG).
The Israelites were few, only a remnant, and facing a long and difficult journey. Tired and worn out physically and spiritually, many believed that God had left them. They were facing extreme loss and were aliens in a foreign land dealing with the contrast of their captivity and faith. From young to old, their spirits were frail and weak. We all face seasons that suck the strength out of us. Then we’re left with the waiting. Psychologists and people who have experienced grief will tell you that the moment of tragedy is not the hardest. ‘In the moment’ you’re full of adrenaline and directly after, there are people around helping and lending strength. It’s the aftermath, the emptiness that’s the hardest. When everyone goes home, the to-do list is done, the phone calls stop. The waiting, the stillness. The time between the lowest point and the climb back up. The time between times. (a little reference for all the Celtic history lovers). In the seasons of lost strength, it’s our hope in the divine and his love that fortifies our wastelands and brings stamina back into our tired legs. It’s the ‘waiting’ that makes us strong again. The days we pull ourselves out of bed, make ourselves eat, make those phone calls, get out of the house, keep on going, living and loving. By grace. We learn to lean into God’s strength, which is creative by nature, and it renews us day by day. We learn to rise above our weakness, grief and hardship to get an eagle's eye perspective on life and love. We will move on from this moment, but we must let this moment teach us what it can. It’s in the waiting that God does his greatest and most miraculous work – causing the weak and lifeless to learn to run again. Not hobble, but stride in strength. Louie Giglio said, “To us, waiting is wasting. To God, waiting is working.” Breathe, rest and trust. “God doesn’t come and go. God lasts. He’s creator of all you can see or imagine. He doesn’t get tired out, doesn’t pause to catch his breath. And He knows everything, inside and out. He energises those who get tired, gives fresh strength to dropouts. Even young people tire and drop out, young folk in their prime stumble and fall. But those who wait upon God get fresh strength. They spread their wings and soar like eagles, They run and don’t get tired, they walk and don’t lag behind.” Isa 40:29-31 (MSG).
Paul was a man with many strengths. Through the New Testament accounts, we see that he spoke with confidence and that he was tenacious, patient and determined. Even during imprisonment and the threat of death, Paul’s trust and faith in God remained solid. He was strong and through his willingness, he has done much for all believers. But at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 12, he asks us not to think of him more highly than we ought to. He wants us to see the entirety of his life, the ups and downs, things said and done (or not) – the whole story, not just a snapshot of his public moments. Let's not forget where he came from and the darkness that lived in his past. Paul was sent a “thorn in his side”… there’s a lot of commentary on what this ‘thorn’ was, but at the end of the day, it kept Paul reliant on God. It’s this weakness, Paul says, that made God’s power rest on him and take up residence within him. It’s not the exertion of human strength that makes a perfect home for God’s power. It’s the space created by weakness – our humanity and natural frailty – that gives room for the power of God to abide in us. His strength is perfected and completed IN our weakness, not in spite of it. Christ cannot fully show the extent of his wonder and grace unless He does so through a broken vessel. 2 Cor 4:7 says “We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” We all have strengths, but we also have weaknesses. We don’t need to shy away from them, cover them up or wish they weren’t there. Our weaknesses are paramount to our faith journey. It’s through our frailties that God shows a world obsessed with winning that lasting power does not depend on human force but on the supernatural strength of Christ. A strength that resounds through community, burden bearing, sharing, love, connection, and forgiveness. Christ doesn’t strengthen individuals so that one can come out on top... He strengthens us to strengthen us all, power in community, strength in one another, hope in Christ. Weakness is fulfilled when God fills that gap with his strength and light. It’s the moments where our weaknesses are revealed and God’s strength is at full capacity that tells the redemption story more clearly and beautifully than any feat of human strength ever could. Being real with our vulnerabilities is the strongest way to live. Authentic, open, real, honest. Empowered by Christ - the life source of everything. Embrace your weaknesses and you’ll find the embrace of Christ’s strength.
Paul was a man with many strengths. Through the New Testament accounts, we see that he spoke with confidence and that he was tenacious, patient and determined. Even during imprisonment and the threat of death, Paul’s trust and faith in God remained solid. He was strong and through his willingness, he has done much for all believers. But at the beginning of 2 Corinthians 12, he asks us not to think of him more highly than we ought to. He wants us to see the entirety of his life, the ups and downs, things said and done (or not) – the whole story, not just a snapshot of his public moments. Let's not forget where he came from and the darkness that lived in his past. Paul was sent a “thorn in his side”… there’s a lot of commentary on what this ‘thorn’ was, but at the end of the day, it kept Paul reliant on God. It’s this weakness, Paul says, that made God’s power rest on him and take up residence within him. It’s not the exertion of human strength that makes a perfect home for God’s power. It’s the space created by weakness – our humanity and natural frailty – that gives room for the power of God to abide in us. His strength is perfected and completed IN our weakness, not in spite of it. Christ cannot fully show the extent of his wonder and grace unless He does so through a broken vessel. 2 Cor 4:7 says “We now have this light shining in our hearts, but we are like fragile clay jars containing this great treasure. This makes it clear that our great power is from God, not from ourselves.” We all have strengths, but we also have weaknesses. We don’t need to shy away from them, cover them up or wish they weren’t there. Our weaknesses are paramount to our faith journey. It’s through our frailties that God shows a world obsessed with winning that lasting power does not depend on human force but on the supernatural strength of Christ. A strength that resounds through community, burden bearing, sharing, love, connection, and forgiveness. Christ doesn’t strengthen individuals so that one can come out on top... He strengthens us to strengthen us all, power in community, strength in one another, hope in Christ. Weakness is fulfilled when God fills that gap with his strength and light. It’s the moments where our weaknesses are revealed and God’s strength is at full capacity that tells the redemption story more clearly and beautifully than any feat of human strength ever could. Being real with our vulnerabilities is the strongest way to live. Authentic, open, real, honest. Empowered by Christ - the life source of everything. Embrace your weaknesses and you’ll find the embrace of Christ’s strength.
I'm not sure whether you've heard of the "Anthropic Principle" but it's one of the strongest evidences in observing the universe that suggests it is intelligently designed. It highlights the conditions absolutely necessary for living organisms to survive in our universe. Illya Prigogine (Chemical Physicist and 2 times Nobel Prize winner) says, “The statistical probability that organic structures and the most precisely harmonized reactions that typify living organisms would be generated by accident, is zero.” Further to that, a study by astrophysicist Hugh Ross, based on 122 constants within this "Anthropic Principle," resulted in a probability of life being sustained anywhere within the universe of 10 to the power of 138 (that's 10 with 138 zeros behind it!). Statistically impossible. I'll highlight a few of the Anthropic Constants. Oxygen Levels: On earth, oxygen comprises 21 percent of the atmosphere. If oxygen were 25% fires would erupt spontaneously, if it were 15%, human beings would suffocate. Gravity: If the gravitational force were altered by 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent, our sun would not exist, and therefore, neither would we. Talk about precision. Speed of Light: Any of the laws of physics can be described as a function of the velocity of light (now defined to be 299,792,458 meters per second). Even a slight variation in the speed of light would alter the other constants and preclude the possibility of life on earth. The heavens certainly do declare the glory of God! In fact, it all does. Creation is permeated with the deep sense of who he is. It beckons us to wake up, to taste and see that he is good! Hidden through nature and creation are stories, echoes, testimonies of God's faithfulness, compassion, love and strength; that suffering happens, but great beauty and joy are present in all moments. Head down to your local beach; hike up a beautiful mountain; look out the window when you’re next on a plane; walk out into the sun and close your eyes and drink in its warmth, give counting the stars a go just like Abraham did, and see the glory and wonder of God inlaid in it all. “But ask the animals what they think - let them teach you; let the birds tell you what’s going on. Put your ear to the earth - learn the basics. Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories. Isn’t it clear that they all know and agree that God is sovereign, that he holds all things in his hand - Every living soul, yes, every breathing creature?” Job 12:7-10 (MSG) Everything about life is miraculous. Don’t neglect gazing into the night sky and reclaiming the wonder that it holds.
I'm not sure whether you've heard of the "Anthropic Principle" but it's one of the strongest evidences in observing the universe that suggests it is intelligently designed. It highlights the conditions absolutely necessary for living organisms to survive in our universe. Illya Prigogine (Chemical Physicist and 2 times Nobel Prize winner) says, “The statistical probability that organic structures and the most precisely harmonized reactions that typify living organisms would be generated by accident, is zero.” Further to that, a study by astrophysicist Hugh Ross, based on 122 constants within this "Anthropic Principle," resulted in a probability of life being sustained anywhere within the universe of 10 to the power of 138 (that's 10 with 138 zeros behind it!). Statistically impossible. I'll highlight a few of the Anthropic Constants. Oxygen Levels: On earth, oxygen comprises 21 percent of the atmosphere. If oxygen were 25% fires would erupt spontaneously, if it were 15%, human beings would suffocate. Gravity: If the gravitational force were altered by 0.00000000000000000000000000000000000001 percent, our sun would not exist, and therefore, neither would we. Talk about precision. Speed of Light: Any of the laws of physics can be described as a function of the velocity of light (now defined to be 299,792,458 meters per second). Even a slight variation in the speed of light would alter the other constants and preclude the possibility of life on earth. The heavens certainly do declare the glory of God! In fact, it all does. Creation is permeated with the deep sense of who he is. It beckons us to wake up, to taste and see that he is good! Hidden through nature and creation are stories, echoes, testimonies of God's faithfulness, compassion, love and strength; that suffering happens, but great beauty and joy are present in all moments. Head down to your local beach; hike up a beautiful mountain; look out the window when you’re next on a plane; walk out into the sun and close your eyes and drink in its warmth, give counting the stars a go just like Abraham did, and see the glory and wonder of God inlaid in it all. “But ask the animals what they think - let them teach you; let the birds tell you what’s going on. Put your ear to the earth - learn the basics. Listen - the fish in the ocean will tell you their stories. Isn’t it clear that they all know and agree that God is sovereign, that he holds all things in his hand - Every living soul, yes, every breathing creature?” Job 12:7-10 (MSG) Everything about life is miraculous. Don’t neglect gazing into the night sky and reclaiming the wonder that it holds.
The world is made up of billions of individuals - each one important, each one carrying their unique story. Our collective stories, including those past, makeup the world we know. And like great books, our stories are so varied and different from one another… But they all carry similar themes; the search for love and belonging, tragedy and heartache, joys and hope, challenges and faith… and more. It’s easy to become enraptured with our own story and be blinded to those around us. We aspire, we dream, we accumulate stuff, amass wealth and experiences, and we complain when we don’t get what we want, we judge when someone hurts or annoys us, we sink into morbid despair when hardship comes, then we blame and point fingers… all this because our ears are filled with our own narrative, drowning out the voices and plight of others. Our stories were never meant for solo flight - they will never reach their full potential or impact unless they’re shared and exchanged with someone else… vulnerable and authentic. Warts, beauty and all. Let someone read it, add to it, pour over it, mark it, enjoy it… cry and laugh, sharing stories, exchanging moments… hearts. Our stories becoming communal, part of each other. God 'wants in' on our stories too. This passage in Isaiah tells us that we are not alone. No matter what we go through, no matter what part of the story we're up too; the scary and sad parts, the chilling and horrific parts, God never stops reading. He’s not on the sidelines judging, and he’s not in the end waiting for us to finish. He is with us everywhere we go. Around, in and through. His is the hand of a ready writer, wanting to help us with the plot, themes, and narrative. Our voices join, and the story becomes ours. Shared, divine and holy. You can’t tell where one story starts and the other one ends. No matter where the story of your life is up to, God is with you - even through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fiery oppressions… He will not leave you. He’s been there before, and he will go there with you again.
The world is made up of billions of individuals - each one important, each one carrying their unique story. Our collective stories, including those past, makeup the world we know. And like great books, our stories are so varied and different from one another… But they all carry similar themes; the search for love and belonging, tragedy and heartache, joys and hope, challenges and faith… and more. It’s easy to become enraptured with our own story and be blinded to those around us. We aspire, we dream, we accumulate stuff, amass wealth and experiences, and we complain when we don’t get what we want, we judge when someone hurts or annoys us, we sink into morbid despair when hardship comes, then we blame and point fingers… all this because our ears are filled with our own narrative, drowning out the voices and plight of others. Our stories were never meant for solo flight - they will never reach their full potential or impact unless they’re shared and exchanged with someone else… vulnerable and authentic. Warts, beauty and all. Let someone read it, add to it, pour over it, mark it, enjoy it… cry and laugh, sharing stories, exchanging moments… hearts. Our stories becoming communal, part of each other. God 'wants in' on our stories too. This passage in Isaiah tells us that we are not alone. No matter what we go through, no matter what part of the story we're up too; the scary and sad parts, the chilling and horrific parts, God never stops reading. He’s not on the sidelines judging, and he’s not in the end waiting for us to finish. He is with us everywhere we go. Around, in and through. His is the hand of a ready writer, wanting to help us with the plot, themes, and narrative. Our voices join, and the story becomes ours. Shared, divine and holy. You can’t tell where one story starts and the other one ends. No matter where the story of your life is up to, God is with you - even through deep waters, rivers of difficulty and fiery oppressions… He will not leave you. He’s been there before, and he will go there with you again.
Honey has been used medicinally for thousands of years dating as far back as ancient Egypt and Greece. It’s had a resurgence in the last few decades amongst medical professionals. Medical-grade honey is being used more and more to treat a variety of ailments, such as skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis. It can improve digestion and is an effective treatment for stomach ulcers and gastroenteritis. It’s used to relieve sore throats and respiratory infections, and it gives our immune systems a powerful boost due to its antioxidant and antibacterial properties. A study has shown that people that eat raw, unprocessed honey regularly have higher levels of antioxidants in their body. Amazing!! But one of the most powerful ways we see raw, unprocessed honey work is in the treatment of wounds and skin ulcers. Studies show that wounds treated with honey heal quicker, smell less and have reduced scarring. Honey often works where traditional medicine fails. Nursing homes and hospitals are starting to use medical-grade honey to treat ulcers that won’t respond to other treatments, and the results have been astounding. Wounds that typically would not heal, and would require amputation of limbs, are healing with the help of honey. Peter Molan, Ph.D., tells the story of a woman with a 20-year-old wound in her armpit that was infected with antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and had an abscess that oozed long after it had been drained. Nothing seemed to help, and the pain was intense. She read about the wound-healing properties of honey and convinced her doctors to apply some to the dressing to her arm. One month later the wound healed. Something so simple and natural has been proven to have the power to heal untreatable wounds; to break down bacteria that could not be beaten and bring healing and comfort to a person's body. Kindness is just like honey. Real, raw, unprocessed, un-glamorised, pure kindness has the ability to heal and bring relief to wounded hearts, scarred and torn over years of pain and heartache. Open oozing wounds, burns, sorrows that have been inflicted and shamed can be turned around with kindness. If you come across a wounded heart - maybe they're oozing anger or seeping sorrow - administer kindness. It may be the very thing that brings that precious heart closer to health and wholeness.
Honey has been used medicinally for thousands of years dating as far back as ancient Egypt and Greece. It’s had a resurgence in the last few decades amongst medical professionals. Medical-grade honey is being used more and more to treat a variety of ailments, such as skin conditions like eczema and psoriasis. It can improve digestion and is an effective treatment for stomach ulcers and gastroenteritis. It’s used to relieve sore throats and respiratory infections, and it gives our immune systems a powerful boost due to its antioxidant and antibacterial properties. A study has shown that people that eat raw, unprocessed honey regularly have higher levels of antioxidants in their body. Amazing!! But one of the most powerful ways we see raw, unprocessed honey work is in the treatment of wounds and skin ulcers. Studies show that wounds treated with honey heal quicker, smell less and have reduced scarring. Honey often works where traditional medicine fails. Nursing homes and hospitals are starting to use medical-grade honey to treat ulcers that won’t respond to other treatments, and the results have been astounding. Wounds that typically would not heal, and would require amputation of limbs, are healing with the help of honey. Peter Molan, Ph.D., tells the story of a woman with a 20-year-old wound in her armpit that was infected with antibiotic-resistant bacteria, and had an abscess that oozed long after it had been drained. Nothing seemed to help, and the pain was intense. She read about the wound-healing properties of honey and convinced her doctors to apply some to the dressing to her arm. One month later the wound healed. Something so simple and natural has been proven to have the power to heal untreatable wounds; to break down bacteria that could not be beaten and bring healing and comfort to a person's body. Kindness is just like honey. Real, raw, unprocessed, un-glamorised, pure kindness has the ability to heal and bring relief to wounded hearts, scarred and torn over years of pain and heartache. Open oozing wounds, burns, sorrows that have been inflicted and shamed can be turned around with kindness. If you come across a wounded heart - maybe they're oozing anger or seeping sorrow - administer kindness. It may be the very thing that brings that precious heart closer to health and wholeness.
HOLY WEEK - PART FOUR While living enslaved in Egypt the Israelites shared an important meal. Moses had tried to convince Pharaoh to let them leave Egypt once and for all. But he refused. So, under cover of darkness, each Israelite family sacrificed a lamb, painted the doorposts of their homes with the blood of their sacrifices, and ate together. The spirit of God was coming, and every family that did not have their door-posts painted in blood would lose their first born son. Those whose mantles were covered would be passed over. Redemption, by blood. There was a saying throughout the generations when speaking of Passover, “In that night they were redeemed, and in that night, they will be redeemed.” For Jews, the Passover feast is not a time to simply remember what God had done for their ancestors in Egypt. Mysteriously, it’s a way to participate in the Exodus, to share in the original act of redemption. In each home, the father presiding over the feast would not speak of it in past-tense, but as if they were participating in the Exodus themselves at that very moment. Not a memory, but a living story, stitching the time together. The salvation experienced in Egypt by the Israelites was not just for back then but for ‘now,’ too. The night of Passover is called the ‘Night of Watching.' Just as they ‘kept watch’ in Egypt as the Spirit of God passed over and through them (Ex 12:42), on this night, there is an expectancy that God will do something throughout each generation. Just days after he had entered Jerusalem and the crowds declared his Kingship; after throwing the money-lenders out of the temple, and delivering his sermon on the Mount of Olives, Jesus gathered with his disciples on Passover night to share a meal loaded with possibility. Jesus intended on leading them on a new kind of Exodus. “Taking the bread, he blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, given for you. Eat it in my memory.” He did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant written in my blood, blood poured out for you." (Luke 22:19-20.) Bread and Wine. Flesh and Blood. Jesus was wholly divine and totally human: God incarnate in humanity, a mash-up of holiness and dust. One of the things that set the Christian tradition apart from other religions is that our God clothed himself in our humanity. “God became flesh. The bread of life. Anyone who drinks of him will never grow thirsty again." (John.) Richard Rohr says, "[Jesus] did not say, “Think about this,” “Fight about this,” “Stare at this;” but He said, “Eat this!” A dynamic, interactive event that makes one out of two… He is bringing this whole mystery of presence to the material, physical level." And not just presence “with” us, but present in us. This is the redemption already seen in the incarnation: That God wouldn’t just come to us, but he became one of us. "The hiding place of God, the revelation place of God, is the material world.” (Richard Rohr). When Jesus said to the disciples, “Eat in remembrance of me,” he wasn’t encouraging them to have a nostalgic thought about him every year on this night. He was referencing the night of watching, not just remembering the Exodus, but becoming it, incarnating it into their lives. We are to participate in his redemption, eat it in, become one with it. Eat his bread (body), drink his wine (blood), and let it mix into our lives. Get as close to his sacrifice as we possibly can. Christ is our good gift, our Eucharist, broken and poured out for us, to lead us in a new kind of Exodus.
HOLY WEEK - PART FOUR While living enslaved in Egypt the Israelites shared an important meal. Moses had tried to convince Pharaoh to let them leave Egypt once and for all. But he refused. So, under cover of darkness, each Israelite family sacrificed a lamb, painted the doorposts of their homes with the blood of their sacrifices, and ate together. The spirit of God was coming, and every family that did not have their door-posts painted in blood would lose their first born son. Those whose mantles were covered would be passed over. Redemption, by blood. There was a saying throughout the generations when speaking of Passover, “In that night they were redeemed, and in that night, they will be redeemed.” For Jews, the Passover feast is not a time to simply remember what God had done for their ancestors in Egypt. Mysteriously, it’s a way to participate in the Exodus, to share in the original act of redemption. In each home, the father presiding over the feast would not speak of it in past-tense, but as if they were participating in the Exodus themselves at that very moment. Not a memory, but a living story, stitching the time together. The salvation experienced in Egypt by the Israelites was not just for back then but for ‘now,’ too. The night of Passover is called the ‘Night of Watching.' Just as they ‘kept watch’ in Egypt as the Spirit of God passed over and through them (Ex 12:42), on this night, there is an expectancy that God will do something throughout each generation. Just days after he had entered Jerusalem and the crowds declared his Kingship; after throwing the money-lenders out of the temple, and delivering his sermon on the Mount of Olives, Jesus gathered with his disciples on Passover night to share a meal loaded with possibility. Jesus intended on leading them on a new kind of Exodus. “Taking the bread, he blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body, given for you. Eat it in my memory.” He did the same with the cup after supper, saying, “This cup is the new covenant written in my blood, blood poured out for you." (Luke 22:19-20.) Bread and Wine. Flesh and Blood. Jesus was wholly divine and totally human: God incarnate in humanity, a mash-up of holiness and dust. One of the things that set the Christian tradition apart from other religions is that our God clothed himself in our humanity. “God became flesh. The bread of life. Anyone who drinks of him will never grow thirsty again." (John.) Richard Rohr says, "[Jesus] did not say, “Think about this,” “Fight about this,” “Stare at this;” but He said, “Eat this!” A dynamic, interactive event that makes one out of two… He is bringing this whole mystery of presence to the material, physical level." And not just presence “with” us, but present in us. This is the redemption already seen in the incarnation: That God wouldn’t just come to us, but he became one of us. "The hiding place of God, the revelation place of God, is the material world.” (Richard Rohr). When Jesus said to the disciples, “Eat in remembrance of me,” he wasn’t encouraging them to have a nostalgic thought about him every year on this night. He was referencing the night of watching, not just remembering the Exodus, but becoming it, incarnating it into their lives. We are to participate in his redemption, eat it in, become one with it. Eat his bread (body), drink his wine (blood), and let it mix into our lives. Get as close to his sacrifice as we possibly can. Christ is our good gift, our Eucharist, broken and poured out for us, to lead us in a new kind of Exodus.