Tag Archives: Resurrection

The dry bones

They must have been famished,that bunch of bones shrugged together,flesh and sinew awaiting breath.How long had they been fasting in the dust? They were surely parched;their skin must have sagged,their steps dragged – how manycalories does resurrection burn, anyway? Did … Continue reading

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Sore wounded

First purple, then green new leaves unfurl as though winter had never been; veined and vain, they bear no marks of last year’s deer, no signs of decay. This is not the resurrection of the dead; this is a conjuring … Continue reading

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What is the meaning of this?

Resurrected, Jesus came back to his people, and he loved them out of their grief and his suffering. He remained true, in his resurrection, to the calling of his incarnation: to use his humanity for healing, his relationships for grace, his life for love. Continue reading

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Breaking open pistachios by the Friday fire, pitching shells toward the pit. I wonder whom the meat of casements that arrive empty fed. Others refuse to open, peeling back my thumb nails; I surrender, hurl them to the fire. A … Continue reading

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Easter 2019: no idle tale

When the women returned from the empty tomb, they told the men all of this, and they thought that it was just another idle tale like so many others. How could they, even after all they had seen, fail to recognize that Jesus is like no other? But, to be fair, perhaps we too often treat the resurrection like a pretty myth that changes nothing much. Continue reading

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He descended to hell

In my resurrection icons Jesus does not rise alone, but hanging on his winding cloths, his wounded feet, holding on his holy hands, a conspiracy of new creation spills from an empty tomb. Image via Monastery Icons

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Mary’s first Christmas

The first Christmas after he died, she spent the dawn remembering that night in Bethlehem, and the stars, and the straw. Continue reading

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Resurrection and reality

If you think that the world is so bewildering that nothing makes sense, Jesus has come so patiently to point out his hands, his feet, his broken body, his own spear-pierced heart, to tell us that he is with us, that he has redeemed all of it. Continue reading

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Waking up to a resurrection revolution

Fifty years have passed, now, since King’s sermon at the Cathedral, and his subsequent assassination. If this death of his had been but sleep, as some of the poets say, and he were to awaken and return today, I wonder if he would be in any way disturbed by the kind of revolution whose results met Rip Van Winkle, or Thomas the apostle. Continue reading

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Inhabiting Thomas

Because you came back for Thomas I hope you may come back for me. Because you breathed peace upon Thomas I wonder if there is a peace for me. Because you let Thomas touch you I believe I will hold … Continue reading

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