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Geoffs Reflections
One in Purpose and Love
Years ago, in my late teens, I was invited to a young adult weekend away by the group from the local church where I was connected. I hadn’t been part of the senior youth/young adults group because of other things, like playing basketball on Friday nights.
Following the Dream…
In the sweltering heat of a Washington DC summer in 1963, a quarter of a million people gathered in the capitol extending back from the Lincoln Memorial, having marched in support of Civil Rights. Several speakers regaled the masses. As the final speaker prepared to move to the podium, the television networks switched to live coverage and Mahalia Jackson sang, ‘I’ve been ‘buked and I’ve been scorned…’ Anticipation built as Rev Dr Martin Luther King stood before the large crowd, having prepared scrupulously for this, his most important speech to date. He and his trusted aides spent the night working and reworking the text, as they sought to wend a course between the difficult obstacles of policy and reactive voices to unite people solidly behind a just cause. His words were thoroughly prepared, and he began, recalling Lincoln’s great Gettysburg Address, declaring the slaves of the south, free. His words moved between poetry and stiff legalese. The prepared speech was good but not great. He came to a point and realised his next words were lame; he began to improvise and those around his realised this. As he negotiated his way, Mahalia called out, ‘Tell ‘em about the dream, Martin.’ It was a dream he had shared as he toured churches across the US, a dream, a vision of a brighter future where all lived in harmony. He faced the cameras and spoke of his dream, his vision, the vision that had wrapped itself around his being, filled him with passionate hope and drove him onwards, a vision where his children and all children would not be judged by the colour of their skin but by the quality of their character, and be able to share food at the same table. I heard another story of lost dreams or visions. A couple who went to the theatre. They were watching a performance of The Man From La Mancha. During the performance, the man was distracted by the woman next to him. She was obviously nudging her husband and in hushed tones telling him to be quiet: ‘Shh. You’re embarrassing me. Stop it…’ The man surreptitiously glanced sideways. He saw an older man, well dressed and upper-middle class respectability and appearance. He was sobbing uncontrollably, and his wife was trying to quieten him. When the first man looked back up to the stage it was immediately obvious why this other man was sobbing. The figure of Don Quixote was singing, ‘To Dream the Impossible Dream.’ He was singing about beating the unbeatable foe and striving with courage to go where the brave dare not go. He was singing about reaching for the unreachable star and the man was sobbing because somewhere along the way he had lost is dreams, his visions. We all need a dream, a vision for life, something to give us direction, purpose and energy. We need a vision to drive us forward as we strive to become who we can be and make a difference. A vision captivates us and gives meaning to what we do. Proverbs 29 reminds us that without a vision, the people perish. Martin Luther King gave us a dream that day, a vision that captivated him and many others, a vision of justice and life for all. Mother Teresa, Nelson Mandella and many others have given us vision, dreams and purpose that revolve around loving each other, seeking peace, equality and justice. When we hear these great voices, we listen. They lift our minds, our being, our hopes and expectations. We are captivated by a vision of what can be. It motivates us to create a beautiful world with hope and life. All visions begin with the person being captured, held in a passionate moment of clarity and giving themselves into the energy and life of the vision – of letting go of control and entering the flow of visionary life and movement. The New Testament story of Saul’s conversion speaks of a vision, a blinding light and a voice, that brings him to his knees, vulnerable and helpless, blinded and dependent. Saul is transformed, his legalistic belief system blown open and he becomes Paul, the Apostle to the Gentile world of the 1st century. Paul is held by this vision, and it becomes his calling. It drives his life and changes everything. He lets go of everything he was and the absolute control he demanded over people and beliefs of ‘right and wrong.’ He rides the waves of vision and dream, a passionate living in the way of God and the life of the Spirit. He gives everything to share the love and freedom he has experienced in Christ, with the world. In this week’s reading (Acts 16:9-16) Paul is travelling across Asia (modern day Turkey) and his way ‘feels directed’ in a straight line. Every time he looks to turn left or right, he is redirected back on the forward journey, teaching, preaching, sharing hope with those he meets. Finally, he hits the coast of the Aegean Sea in the city of Troas (slightly south of modern-day Gallipoli). Before him is water. He prepares to journey south, north or back inland but is caught by a dream in the night that changes everything – again! In the dream a man cries out for him to come to Macedonia and help them out! Macedonia is ‘out there,’ across the water – 2 days by boat. Paul, a man of dreams and visions, captivated by the Spirit’s call and the Reflection Notes – 25/5/25 6 th Sunday of Easter – Geoff Stevenson mission of God, listens to this latest dream, and enlists a boat to take them across the waters. He arrives on the second day and travels inland to Neapolis and onto Philippi, the capital. On the Sabbath day, he went to where he understood Jewish people would gather to worship and looked for ‘the man’. There were no men, only a group of women, and Paul spoke to them of his vision, his life, his hope, his faith and the love that seized him in Christ. One of the women, Lydia was moved and responded, seeking to be baptised by Paul. She and her household were baptised, and she invited Paul to come and stay – if he found her faithful (worthy of being seen with Paul and offering hospitality). Paul and his group readily went and stayed in Lydia’s home. This was the beginning of the church in Philippi. It began as a vision and the faithful, courageous response by Paul. There was a vision calling him to come and this vision reflected the deep yearning of people, especially Lydia, in Philippi. Life and hope in Christ came to the city. I find this simple story deeply challenging and hopeful. Paul travelled and trusted. When he dreamed of the man in Macedonia, he had the courage and passion to follow. He wasn’t afraid of getting it wrong – he’d turn around and try again, listen harder, more carefully for the voice of love. What does it mean for you and me as we travel along life’s highway, or the low roads of struggle? What dreams do we hold and how do we allow them to find expression and life? Do we have the courage and hope that Paul has, to listen to the Spirit’s wisdom and follow into unknown, strange places? Will we live into the vision of Jesus and love of God that invites us to live life in love, hope, justice and peace – and faith? Hear the gentle voice of love that will affirm and guide you. Walk in the way of love, the way of Jesus.
The Shape of Transforming Love!
A little boy sat in a doctor’s surgery whilst the Doctor tried to explain that they needed to take some of his blood – or marrow – to save the life of his sister. He had recovered from a serious blood disease that had threatened his life and now his sister was in dire need of his blood to save her life. The boy was quiet and subdued, he looked anxious and unsure, a bit pale at the request. Finally in a soft voice he replied, ‘Okay doctor you can take my blood to save my sister.’ The procedures happened and all went well. The doctor went to find and report to the family that all had gone well, and a very positive outcome was expected. He saw the boy sitting alone, head down and very quiet. The doctor went up and began to chat with him, reassuring him that his sister would be okay… After a short silence, the boy looked up with frightened eyes and asked, ‘So doctor, when do I die?’ It was then the doctor realised the little boy thought that in giving his blood for his sister, he was giving his life. Such is the generous sacrifice of love! I’m not sure the boy was conscious of the profound shape of his decision, even if grounded in a misunderstanding. He acted for his sister’s well-being even though he believed he was going to die. Such is love. When love, as the theme of so many songs, poems, plays, movies, stories etc, is portrayed in forms that range from the sublime to the ridiculous, it often becomes lost in sentimentality, mushy feelings and simplistic notions. Some of this is nice and feels good but is it love that is sustaining and real? When I celebrate weddings, the question I ask is ‘Will you love each other…?’ This invites the couple to reflect on a commitment to love through the good times, when everything feels lovely and is going well, when the nice feelings flow, it is easy to ‘feel’ love. What happens when everything falls apart, when there are tensions and challenges, when you disagree…? Love is a commitment of the will to act for the well-being and flourishing of another, says Scott Peck. It may be sacrificial, generous and self-giving with nothing in return. This week Jesus invites his disciples to love one another as they have been loved by him (John 13:31-35). He speaks of this as a new commandment – to love as they have been loved. There are various commandments that existed – Love God with your whole heart, soul and strength. Love your neighbour as yourself. Love the stranger, the sojourner in your land… This one, however invites the disciples to love as they have been loved, as they have experienced love in him. I pondered this idea, of what the disciples experienced. What was their experience of love? What did they see, hear, experience and how did these experiences transform them, change their perspective, give them a new and different story? I pondered how this may have been for them in that particular moment, a poignant and critical moment in Jesus’ life as he approached his death. In John’s story there are several chapters that surround his death, as he gathers with the disciples, washes their feet and models servanthood. They shared the Passover meal and remembered, and celebrated, the story of their predecessors and God’s grace in liberation and salvation. He prayed for them and all people who would hear and follow and be drawn into this new way. He prayed that they would be one, as he and God are one. He prayed for their mission of reconciliation and healing in the world, the continuation of his mission. And he told them to love, as they had been loved. As I pondered, one night, I imagined those who looked into this face of love in other poignant and critical moments of life. A woman caught in the act of adultery (where was the man???) and confronting a group of male leaders who wanted to stone her as the law seemed to imply. Jesus invited them to go ahead but only after the one without sin in their own lives threw the first stone. He doodled in the dirt and then looked up to see the woman standing alone. He offered her the forgiveness and peace of God and sent her off to live in a new way – he loved her and gave her life in the deepest ways. What love did she experience and recognise in his eyes? What love did the disciples see in this or in the woman who suffered a menstrual bleed for 12 years? She visited various physicians, but they only took her money and did nothing for her – she was left broke and alone. She was alienated from community and life, desperate for help that no-one would give her. She saw him and believed that all she needed was to touch the hem of his cloak and all would be well. She did and was, but he felt the connection and asked who touched him. In the midst of the jostling crowd, he asked, and she came forward scared and unsure. But he loved her – ‘Daughter! Your faith has made you well. Go in peace!’ She was named a beloved child of God in that moment – and loved. What did she feel? What did she see in those eyes of love? What did the many who experienced Jesus see, feel, experience in the love that flowed through acceptance, liberation, forgiveness, healing and grace? What did the disciples experience through their own transformation, their own experience of grace and love? What did they see in the face of the one who loved in the name of Love itself? How had their own lives changed through the ministry of Jesus and how had they experienced such transformative, self-giving, generous love? What did this love look like? The urging commandment is more prescient and profound in the context of Jesus’ own life at that moment – his impending death. As he speaks through this extended passage, promising hope beyond death, a place in God’s house and union with God through his own life and death. He pleas for unity in their diversity and that these followers and all who hear and respond will be drawn into a unity that reflects this Triune God of relationship and inclusive love. Jesus will give his life in the name of love and for the sake of love, justice, hope and peace for the world. He will stand against those powers of the world who are violent, oppressive, exclusive and judgemental. He will surrender into the way of sacrificial love for the sake of all and through death find new life and liberation – a story of cruciform shape that urges death and resurrection in life and spirit. He gives for the sake of others and do so in love. When he urges them to love as he has loved them, it is profoundly challenging, a high calling. It is a profound call to surrender into love and offer self for the sake of others and their flourishing regardless of what it might mean for us. This is the shape of love, surrendering, transforming, liberating and the hope for our world!
Listening for the Voice of Love!
This morning, when Nico and I went out for our morning walk, we took a different route, one we hadn’t been on for a while. We have generally been wandering down the main road and Nico stops at the lights, waits until it turns green and then walk across, usually pulling me with him (he doesn’t know it’s a green light, but it buzzes, and he knows to walk). This morning, we took some different paths and Nico kept looking up at me to know which direction to take when there were options. I point and he follows. He keeps looking at me to make sure we are on the right track. He looks for my directions and he listens to my voice. In the park, where there are various people and dogs, he will hear Susan, or I call out and listen and come. He has learned words and instructions – he knows ‘letterbox’ and ‘bin’ and ‘hose’ and runs to the gate or tap when he hears the words. All day, Nico will follow me around, listen for instructions, respond to a call, and he wants to be patted, called by name, stroked under his neck. Nico wants to belong and know that he is part of the pack and loved by the leader of the pack. He will give of himself fully and enjoys playing his part, doing ‘work’ and being part of the pack. Nico knows me and I know him. This Sunday is sometimes called ‘Shepherd Sunday.’ It comes from the readings usually associated with the week. One is the beloved Psalm 23, attributed to King David who was a shepherd and knew the interactions between sheep and shepherd. In this beautiful Psalm, he speaks of God as his shepherd, who ensures green pastures in which to rest and feed. He leads beside water that is still and fresh, safe for drinking, refreshing. The Shepherd leads us into the right and good ways for life and holds us through the darkness of pain and struggle, where death and suffering loom. This shepherd holds us when enemies surround us, ensuring we are held in love and connected into the source of life itself. It is a comforting and reassuring Psalm that is life-giving and hopeful. In this Psalm, is the personal awareness of his own deep and profound care for his flock of sheep as a shepherd boy and extrapolating this onto God in a deeper and more profound way. Just as David would protect the sheep from enemies, seek out the sheep that were lost or save those in trouble, ensuring food, water and well-being, so God in a deeper, more profound way will ensure we wave what we need. ‘The Lord is my shepherd,’ says David, ‘I will not want.’ I will have what I need to live and flourish in life. The other reading, from John’s story (John 10:22-30), follows on from where Jesus speaks of himself as the Good Shepherd who cares for the sheep. He speaks of the sheep knowing his voice and hearing him. Others don’t know him, don’t hear his voice, won’t listen and follow all manner of voices and would-be leaders. This shepherd will lay his life down for the sheep and no-one can snatch his sheep from him – they will always belong to him, safe in his care. It reflects words of Paul and others that proclaim that nothing can separate us from God’s love – ever! As I ponder these words, I recognise the cacophony of noise, voices, sound, distractions and the subtle temptations that seek to draw my attention, will and life in all manner of directions. I am bombarded with advertisements that want me to buy more, invest, accumulate, gain, experience, ideology, politics, religion… There are so many messages that strike me every day in so many ways, some subtle and luring and others bold and in my face. Some voices come at me in a constant barrage until I succumb to their message, until my defences and resistance is at least softened. I know from my own experiences that too often the path leading from these temptations is a dead-end road that is empty, unsatisfying and dangerous. Too often I have succumbed to the lure of a new toy, and it has been wonderful and stimulating for a brief time until the novelty wears off and it is just another thing to fight for my time and attention. I have followed paths that have seemed good, urged on by voices that seem wise and genuine, and perhaps they were. The path leads nowhere of substance. It is more of the same, fine for a time, perhaps a bit of fun but ultimately hollow. It is usually when crisis hits, the ‘valley of the shadow of death’ that the Psalm speaks of, that the hollowness of these different paths is revealed. When life opens up, cracks and I flounder, what is there to hold onto? What voice will call my name and offer safe passage through the struggle and strain, the suffering and pain? What light will penetrate the crack and offer me the promise of something deeper, more real and sustaining? Amidst this cacophonous noise of voice and advertisement, of experts and leaders vying for my ‘likes’ and ‘re-tweets’ and ultimately my money, there is a soft, gentle voice. It comes quietly and at depth. It doesn’t promise the world, and yet it promises everything but bids me to let go and trust. Trust in what? A voice in the darkness? The voice of a shepherd? The voice that echoes through centuries and sometimes looks old and worn, rather than shiny and cool, chic and hip, contemporary and young? It is the voice that cries through crucifixion pain, through death and loss and raw vulnerability. It is the voice of one willing to die in order to live and to walk me through my own dying and dying, over and over again until the rising and rising and new life forms me and I let go of control and definition, trusting in this raw, human voice of love. For some reason Nico, and our little dog, Nessa, know and trust our voices. Sometimes against his instincts and will, Nico will trust us and follow – Nessa is learning that as well. They have everything they need – food, rest, warmth, belonging, community, love, purpose… Can I learn from them, or the example of sheep and a shepherd? Can I trust the quiet, gentle voice that calls my name? Can I even hear it through the noise? Can I trust this voice for all I need despite being told I need much more or won’t have real life? Can I learn to let go and follow trusting that I will be led into the richness of life and being in a community of human beings, animals and creatures, sharing life together in a beautiful world where we learn to trust and rely on each other? I yearn for this voice to lead us all into the wisdom that eludes so many leaders, leads us into a life of inclusive love, grace, hope and joy. What about you?
Amazing Grace, Transforming Lives!
This week was the 10th anniversary of the execution deaths of Andrew Chan and Myuran Sukumaran, the two men arrested, tried and sentenced to death as the ringleaders of the, so-called, Bali 9. They were organising for heroine to be brought from Indonesia to Australia. They were sent to prison and spent 10 years awaiting their final fate as appeals were made. There were legal appeals, appeals from Australia, Human Rights organisations and even the Warden of the Kerobokan prison. In an all too common story, these were young men who had challenges at school, fitting in and losing their way in life, drifting along and attracted to a dream of wealth and being comfortable through ‘easy money.’ They were lured into drugs and the drug industry and the culture it brought – until they were caught and arrested. Their lives changed in a moment. The easy money and flashy life no longer there. Their freedom was lost and their future uncertain as the appeals happened around them. There are a variety of stories around these two men of the changes within them and the work that they initiated in that God-forsaken place. One account has Andrew in his cell pondering life and his fate, perhaps remembering glimmers of faith from his childhood and then praying to a God he isn’t sure about, seeking some kind of sign. The next day his brother arrived to visit with a friend, a Salvation Army Minister. They talked and Andrew asked for a Bible. He began to read. I imagine the stories of Jesus, of his death and the faith and hope he inspired. Something in Andrew began to change and he recognised that Jesus’ life was a blessing to others. He helped others and gave hope, life and transformation. Andrew converted to Christianity in prison. He and Myuran began a variety of education opportunities for other prisoners. They created a zone in the prison that was drug-free and where inmates could find a different way in life and make the most of new opportunities to turn themselves around. Andrew was visited and encouraged by various Christian leaders and studied theology within the prison. He led worship and provided pastoral care and counselling to others. He was ordained in prison. Myuran also converted to Christianity. He discovered his gift of art and reached out to renowned Australian artist, Ben Quilty for guidance and support with technique and colour. He set up and art studio in the prison and used it to work with and help other inmates. Exhibitions of his work provided some funds for the prison ministry these two men were so deeply engaged in. Their lives and work were so significant and transformative that they were recognised as ideal inmates with a vital role in the rehabilitation of other prisoners. The prison warden appealed to the Indonesian President, Joko Widodo, on their behalf but to no avail. He wouldn’t be moved, and they were executed by firing squad. On the day of their execution, they provided interpretation and comfort for the other 6 executed with them. They refused a blindfold and sang the hymn, Amazing Grace before their death. They then began to sing the contemporary Christian song, ‘Bless the Lord O my Soul.’ They never finished the song as the bullets tore into them and their dead bodies crumpled to the ground. I imagine the remainder of the song ringing out in that eternal Realm of which we speak, where there is peace and hope, and all tears are wiped away. This story of transformation echoes the story Luke tells of Saul/Paul who was on his way to persecute the Christians in Damascus. Saul/Paul was a fanatical religious figure, belonging to the very serious party of the Pharisees. He was driven by his belief systems that focussed on the legal requirements of the law, as articulated through the Hebrew Scriptures and the various interpretations. He was obsessed with this blasphemous and dangerous sect, as he understood them. The Christians were peddling dangerous ideas and leading people astray. It was a threat to the true faith and the laws of God. On his way to round up and imprison Christians, Saul/Paul was blinded by a light and fell to his knees. He heard a voice calling out, ‘Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?’ ‘Who are you, Lord?’ asked Saul/Paul. ‘I am Jesus, whom you persecute.’ This interaction, however, it happened, and whatever Saul/Paul experienced, turned his whole being upside down. It confused him and left him helpless, blinded and desperate. He was told to go to a particular place and a disciple would tend to him. Ananias had to be convinced to go anywhere near this Saul/Paul, who had a reputation. When he went, he found a helpless, confused and desperate soul. He laid hands on Saul/Paul and prayed. Scale-like things fell Reflection Notes – 4/5/25 3 rd Sunday of Easter – Geoff Stevenson from Saul/Paul’s eyes, and he began to see, not just physically but with deeper insight and wisdom. He recognised how wrong he was and that there was grace and life that he never recognised in his intellectual pursuit of the law. He was being transformed through this experience, this encounter with the Living God. It took time for him to embrace and embody the fullness of this revelation and the way of Jesus as a fulfilment of the law through grace and love. He was transformed from violent fanaticism to one who embraced powerlessness and vulnerability, trusting this Spirit of God to guide and use him. He recognised that in his weakness, when he was naked before the world, God would use this in ways he could never comprehend. He was flogged, shipwrecked, abused, imprisoned and finally executed under Rome as he reached out to spread the Love and Grace of God across his world of the Roman Empire. He encountered resistance and opposition from religious figures, political figures and the powers of the world but he never let go of this hope and life that had been given him through the experience of Grace on the road to Damascus – and everything that flowed from that. The stories of Andrew and Myuran, as they encountered a Living God who transformed them and used their powerlessness and vulnerability to transform other lives in the harshness of prison, is inspiring. The story of Saul/Paul being brought to his knees and opened to grace is a story of radical transformation of the human heart and being. Their witness to us is that Grace is freely available and transforms our world if we will allow ourselves to be vulnerable before life, before God and surrender to the Love that will not let us go. This is Amazing Grace!
Grace and Love Break Open our Fear…
We could tell something was happening; a storm was on its way. Nico, one of our dogs became agitated and anxious. He started shaking a bit and pacing around, running from room to room. We checked the radar and sure enough, a storm was coming over the mountains but still a way off. As it came closer Nico became more agitated, barking and crying, running, and shaking. A peel of thunder, still far off but loud enough to startle us, ang out and Nico ran out. He ran outside to the car port and to the front gate. This is his ‘hiding’ place. It doesn’t make sense. It is out in the open, under cover, but open. Perhaps he confuses hearing a sound when in the house, to that danger or threat being in the house? I went out and got him, just as a louder, closer peel of thunder rang out in the sky, following the lightning strikes. Nico ran inside with me and jumped on Susan’s lap, causing havoc. Eventually we sat him down and held him, providing comfort and reassurance and the storm passed over. Nico isn’t the bravest dog going around. He has places that are safe, and he retreats to – the side gate, the gate on the other side of the house (completely open!), under my desk, between the piano stool and the piano… He will hide when threatened or, on a walk, try to run away from the threat. In desperation he will bark and growl and try to scare the perceived danger away. In this sense, Nico is like most of us when confronted by something that threatens us or cause fear, pain, confusion, anxiety… We try to hide from such a threat or escape in some way. I find myself retreating and hiding away when I feel myself under deep stress or fear. When I receive news that is challenging and confronting, that causes pain or threatens me or someone I know, I want to retreat, avoid, escape. Sometimes I can and that is exactly what is needed. Other times I have no choice but to face the challenge or threat, even though everything in me wants to run away. When I’m in the midst of a difficult time or dealing with confronting, sad or horrible news, whether close to me or in the news feed of the day and across the world, I often want to hide from it. I can only deal with so much and feel overwhelmed or helpless and in my confusion, I try to escape it. This is how most of us operate. There are points in all of our lives when life is just too much, when we can’t deal with the threat or challenge, when our energy and courage wanes and we feel fear and overwhelming desperation. This is the fight, flight or freeze response, a physiological and psychological response to threat and danger, to fear. This response is central to the Easter story! All the narratives around Easter involve some form of fear, confusion, hiding, or escape as the followers of Jesus deal with the enormity of their grief and loss. It isn’t only the loss of this friend, whose love and authority have given them new life and direction. It is the loss of everything they have given up in following Jesus. What now? What do they do? Will those who killed Jesus come after them? Are they guilty by association? Will they seek to take the whole movement down, rather than just the leader? In John’s continuing story of Jesus (John 20:19-31), the disciples and followers of Jesus are hiding away behind locked doors and solid walls. They are afraid. Even despite Mary’s witness to encountering the Risen Christ in the garden that morning, their fear, confusion, and grief are overwhelming, and they hide from the dangers and threats. How long will they hide? How long is grief? What next? They are locked away from the world in the evening when this Risen Christ materialises in their midst! He says: ‘Peace be with you,’ and shows them his hands and side – his wounds. Again, saying, ‘Peace be with you.’ He breathed on them and said: ‘Receive a Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, their sins are forgiven; if you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.’ This story is John’s holding together of the revealing of the Risen Christ, the receiving of the Spirit and the commissioning of the disciples to continue the work of God’s mission of reconciliation and healing in the world! Thomas wasn’t there and won’t believe until he, too, experiences this Risen Christ and recognises him through his woundedness. A week later, they are all still hiding away behind locked doors, still fearful and confused, despite this experience! Jesus again materialises in their midst and shows his wounds to Thomas who recognises the crucified, now Risen Christ. It is in the brokenness that Jesus is recognised, and it will be in their vulnerable brokenness that the disciples will be recognised as witnesses to the power of God’s love Reflection Notes – 27/4/25 2 nd Sunday of Easter breaking into human life. It is in our helplessness and powerlessness that we are broken open to receive the grace and love that will hold and sustain us and be a witness to the grace and love that, alone, can heal the world and bring hope and life! This story resonates deeply with me and my experience. As I try to hide from life, from pain, from suffering, from fear and threats and… As I try to retreat and escape, a prayer of desperation escapes my lips, or bubbles up from my inner being, a prayer of the deepest yearning for help. As I create the ‘room’ with its solid walls and locked doors to keep the world at bay, the Risen Christ gently enters and says: ‘Peace be with you!’ I am offered peace in the midst of fear and pain. The Risen Christ breathes the Spirit of God, the Spirit of life onto me and invites me into faith and hope – and the way of love! I am invited to share int eh mission of healing and reconciliation in the world, God’s Mission of peace, justice, reconciliation, and love. It is in my lowest moments, my most desperate and fearful moments, in the darkness of night, that the Risen Christ breaks into my life and breathes peace and Spirit and life. It doesn’t change the circumstances around me. The storms still rage; the threats still threaten; the pain is still real, but I am held in love and know that all will be well. Somehow, some way, in life or death, all will be well. I don’t understand, I can’t define or control, only trust. At that moment I can breathe again, and I know I am not alone and whatever may happen, nothing can separate me from God’s love in Christ. From death to life, we grow/ Through grief and pain to breathe again. Through locked doors and solid walls/ the Risen Christ breathes life and then/ Says: Peace be with you, my friends/ From death to life we grow.