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Reflections on the Sunday lectionary readings

The Second Sunday of Easter: Saving the best for last

Acts 5:27-32  •  Psalm 118:14-29 or Psalm 150  •  Revelation 1:4-8  •  John 20:19-31


I guess most of us dislike both too much togetherness and also the feeling of being left out. In today's reading, Thomas had purposefully left the disciples for a short while. Possibly he was somewhere managing some responsibility for the group, finding food or lodging as they continued to hide from the Romans. Possibly he had just grown tired of their being together, hiding in fear and despair, and wanted some time away. For whatever reason, he missed Jesus' first post-resurrection appearance to the disciples. When Thomas returns to the others, he is skeptical of their wild tale of seeing Jesus and having none of it. Possibly he thought that the sense of despair was getting to everyone's ability to think rationally, and that they should each go take a walk. Later, Jesus makes what seems to be an extra appearance specifically designed to include Thomas.


In both trips, Jesus brings a message of peace to the group. During times of anxiety, a group's ability to remain at peace is reduced. If people can remember to stay calm, the capacity for a group to manage different ideas – he is risen, for example – is increased. The capacity for individuals to stay calm without having to agree allows everyone more freedom to think clearly. It allows one to welcome the outsider, the one left out, the one with a different view. It allows one to have a different view without having to leave the group to maintain the idea or having to insist that others agree. Peace begins through individuals, families, and other groups who can accept differences while remaining together, who welcome the one who has been left out.


This week's reflection:


Morning reflection: How can I present my own views without insisting that others agree or caving to pressure to agree with others?

Evening reflection: Where in my day did I seek or find peace?

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Slow Dawning

Isaiah 65:17-25  •  Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24  •  1 Corinthians 15:19-26 or Acts 10:34-43  •  Luke 24:1-12


The women in today's reading face a series of unfortunate events. The death of a loved one occurred right before the Sabbath, so that they had spent the day of rest thinking of him and his horrible death, which they had just witnessed. Additionally, the rules of the Sabbath required them to postpone attending to his body an entire 24-hour period: a long time for a decomposing body which would begin to smell soon. Although grieving and sleep-deprived, they were already at the tomb early the following morning with their oils and spices, before the heat of the day.


    As soon as they get there, they are confused. The stone in front of the tomb is rolled back. Gathering up their courage – is a robber inside? – they go in. But no one is inside, dead or alive. Jesus' body is not there. While chattering to each other and trying to figure out what is going on, two men in shining clothes appear and (apologies to the angels) mansplain to them what has happened. They return home, telling the disciples about it, and are dismissed outright as foolish women. Peter gets curious, though, and going out to take a look, returns perplexed and wondering about what has happened.


    The story reminds me of an inverse optical illusion, where a picture can be seen as one thing, but also as its opposite, if one can train one's eyes to look at it differently. It's hard to do – what the eye is expecting, apparently, is what the eye sees. Only with time and refocusing can one see what is really there.


    Easter is an invitation to see life differently, instead of continuing to operate from automatic responses. One may first need to put oneself in the position of being challenged. One might first have to lose something held as important, before finding that it has been found and brought back ten-fold, in a way one had not even imagined.


    While Easter is indeed an invitation to see life differently, to refuse to continue to operate out of anxiety and thoughtlessness, it is not an invitation to be glib. There is suffering, pain, and death. Jesus did not avoid it; neither can we. What we can avoid is the temptation to blame life for suffering. Somehow, evolution was the chosen mechanism through which we and all living things are created. Within that understanding, life is a package deal, containing both pain and joy, particularly in exactly those creatures which have evolved with a capacity for self-awareness. Increased self-awareness, when tied to responsibility for self, promotes growth and maturity. As with the women on Easter morning, Easter is about finding a way out of automatic fears and confusion into an increasing recognition of a much larger reality of life.


    This week's reflection:


    Morning: How do I see the day ahead? What is a different way of looking at it?

    Evening: When did I keep a larger perspective? When did I lose it?

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How Does Growth Happen?

















This week's reflection:







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Trouble Ahead

Isaiah 43:16-21  •  Psalm 126  •  Philippians 3:4b-14  •  John 12:1-8


The first time we met Mary and Martha (Luke 10), it was already a familiar story. Martha is cooking, Mary is listening to Jesus' stories, and next, Martha fusses at Mary. Probably most of us have seen or been a part of similar domestic scenes. Although there is tension between the sisters, the context is more or less a happy one, with a relaxed air of friends gathered in a home, and a great storyteller in the room.


Not so with today's story. This time, serious tension is in the air. In the verses right before, Jewish leadership has been talking about Jesus' popularity with the people. Misconstruing his motivation as a desire to lead a rebellion against the government, they discussed the need for him to die to avoid any dangerous complications with the Roman authorities. Separately, Jesus himself has been talking about his death as coming soon. Everyone knows that in Jerusalem, trouble is ahead.


And everyone deals with the troubling thoughts in different ways. Martha is back in the kitchen again, cooking and serving food. Anxious Judas starts counting costs, figuring out how to feed the poor, and possibly himself, once Jesus is gone. And Mary takes a pound of nard, a perfumed oil, possibly bought to use after Jesus' impending death, and begins to use her hair to wash his feet with it, in a scene that seems odd to us now and apparently was quite inappropriate then.


These three examples tell us much about human beings under pressure. Martha distances physically, losing herself in her work in the kitchen. Judas distances emotionally, adding numbers and criticizing others. Mary, overcome with feeling, acts without much thought. No one in the room, apparently, is acting thoughtfully about the principle that had led them to this place: loyalty to Jesus. If anyone had been able to think about the principle, perhaps the anxiety might have been addressed. Perhaps someone would have said, simply, that they were afraid of losing their master. That they would miss him. That they wanted to know how to best serve him in the days ahead.


Anxiety keeps all of us from stating the obvious, from facing the reality of the situation, from staying calm, and from asking the questions that would move the group forward. We all tend to lose perspective, focusing our attention on some aspect of a situation that meets our own needs, rather than those of the situation at hand.  Under the slightest bit of increased pressure, humans tend to lose the capacity to think clearly about what is actually happening in the moment, diverting our attention to something more manageable, and making even our own principles unavailable to us. Jesus, as always it seems, sides with Mary. Her actions, odd as they might have been, were at least related to the true source of the worry. Somehow, the way out of an anxious moment is to face the truth it is telling us, rather than continually act on ways to avoid it.


This week's reflection:



Morning: What might increase my anxiety today? What are my principles around the situation?


Evening: What made me anxious today? To what extent did I respond like Marth? Judas? Mary? What part of myself was quickly lost? How do I replace it with something more substantial?

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