Resurrection Morn

Today in church, in the middle of resurrection morn, I believed for a moment. It was some where in the singing of songs that resonated, somewhere after the words of liturgy which spoke stories of the One who had ransomed us all with His death, somewhere in the middle of trying to sing my heart out, to push the full force of air from lungs past lips to shout/sing, to trumpet this good news; somewhere in that moment I believed fully that Christ has indeed risen. Idea, concept story sublimated in that moment & became reality. Spirit revealed, the truth of heaven merged with human experience & confession & on this rock Jesus forms His church....

...it was breathtaking. I was lost for words & wept & wept at the beauty of the risen one. I wept like Magdalene, seeing the Jesus she loved alive after she'd thought she'd lost him for ever....In the moment I felt like Abraham looking up at the stars, somehow suddenly it all made sense. Suddenly the idea that a man in his 90's could father a son connected with him. The words God has been speaking to him for the last 15-20 years suddenly seemed real & he believed & it was counted to him for righteousness... and it felt like that today - that the reality of the risen Christ that I'd heard about, read about, thought about in theory suddenly felt so real, so true, so complete.....

...and in the middle of this place, I started to pray for those around me, to let my heart stretch out to feel the needs of the people I know & love... & so I prayed for healing, for hope, for strength, for love.... prayed for resurrection miracles, for Him to make all things new - to turn ashes to beauty & mourning to dancing....

...there was a momentary paralysis in this. I was up at the front, alone, in quiet of heart, the chords sounding from the speakers washing over me & resonating through me. I was in temple, in that quiet place, coming boldly before the throne, just me & the divine, talking about Him unleashing healing, hope, joy, love to friends, to children he loves.... and I prayed believing in the prayers, but afraid to turn around to see if the results were happening/not happening....waiting, hoping for shouts of joy, of healing revealed, to come from somewhere behind me as one of the prayers took hold & the Risen Christ unleashed a miracle to change bad to good, darkness to light....

... but turn around I did... & I wandered back to join the circle of friends praying for one of the friends who has been suffering under sickness for far too long.

& again, I prayed, speaking out the release of healing with a boldness, a defiance... less request, more command, hoping that this boldness would echo faith, would somehow show belief, that I trusted God could do what he says he can do..... and..... well... nothing.... or at least from what my eyes/heart could see at the time.

This brought a whole nother kind of tears & a different kind of thoughts.....

What good is it to be indwelt by the risen Christ & to not have His resurrection power to flow out from me? I have been told that I am, in some senses, the incarnation - that the Word indwells me & once again has become flesh..... that Jesus/Spirit/Father walks the earth wearing a Kirk suit. His voice echoes in mine, His heart loves through me. This is what I believe. & so, as I have been told, I begin to expect that as I speak, that the words come with His authority, that the voice that spoke creation into existence speaks through me. That the voice that shook the earth & calmed the waves & sea somehow speaks through my stammering tongue. His hands which brought healing to many are felt in my touch. He lives in me & flows through me.....

...but yeah, it seems like there is a disconnect. It feels like there is something waiting, something that is 'not yet' that holds the flow, the power back. When I pray for others, when I place my hands on them as a sign that I walk with them in their struggles, I expect to be a conduit, a lightning rod, to let God's power flow through me & be unleashed to others - not that he can't unleash directly to them, it's just that He somehow lets/chooses His sons & daughters to partner with him in the process... but ultimately we are nothing in the process but channels - pathways - pipes open at both ends, first to receive & then to let His grace pour out through us....

and so as a conduit, I am nothing. If I was to fill myself with my own importance, it would stifle the flow.... I would try to turn His power into my own & use it to lay claim to some sort of fame or vainglory - but instead, I am just empty. All I care about is seeing friends healed... for this friend, I have prayers for dancing feet, for a soul unchained & no longer tied down & earthbound, but free to praise with abandon & without limitation......

....in the past people have given me so many theological explanations for the 'blockage' for the 'not yet'. There are dozens of elaborate explanations that get God off the hook for why He doesn't appear to do big flashy miracles today. Mostly I think these explanations are bogus. I could believe the ones that say that if I'm not pure enough or something then He won't move through me.... but if that's the case, the world is without hope 'cause I know maybe 5 people that may be pure enough of heart that they might qualify & even then I think that's just 'cause I can't see the fullness of who they are. No, the Jesus I love speaks always of grace and the scriptures are full of screwed up men & women that God moves through to bring redemption & to tell His story.....

....and so there is no satisfying explanation. There is only the heartache of praying your heart out for people you love, believing that God hears & answers & then watching them hobble out of church, still not whole....

... and so I ended my time at church today in tears. Today feels like I'm tugging on this great rope, trying to drag the new Jerusalem into our space & time... and the physics is getting in the way, the stuff of heaven seems to be blocked by the things of earth, the reality of heaven seems to get stuck on the edge of the atmosphere & I'm not able to pull hard enough to somehow puncture that bubble, to let Heaven's reality seep into our own.....

.... and yes, i know that miracles aren't always as you expect them. There were probably great miracles & great healing today. Maybe the miracle was seeing the worshipper friend surrounded by the sisterhood & friends who cared, all of us groaning & weeping & petitioning heaven for her release. Maybe this show of love reminds her of her worth & value to us & to God.... maybe there is healing that she doesn't feel alone (if she ever did). Maybe there were miracles today of friendship. Of lonely souls finding people to listen to them. Of being able to speak hope & worth into a friend who feels they've wandered astray. Maybe I had my own miracles of not retreating to wrestle alone, but instead choosing to join people for lunch - where none of my questions were voiced or discussed..... and maybe there was a miracle of grace in me not being all grumpy with the conversation & raging like some angry prophet, but instead listening to people talk about economics & the housing market. (Part of my grumpiness was likely mitigated sitting next to a friend who loves this stuff & who is good at it... it makes me happy to see her joy in this & I hope she makes a gazillion dollars 'cause she'll probably give most of it away to help the poor)...

...but walking back from lunch I passed a prostitute on the other side of the road. I stumbled along, avoiding her gaze, not wanting to further degrade my mood by having to deal with the awkward questions as she walks the lonely, heartbreaking back & forth walk, waiting for the next customer to come, looking to survive, looking for maybe more.... but this too was a reminder of the blackness.... a soul in chains as a prize of the enemy reminding me that heaven seems to not rule this place .....

...yet.....

...and this is where I sit... in the 'not yet'.... there's a really bad episode of the old G.I. Joe cartoon where Cobra unwittingly releases this badly drawn biological-germ-cloud-thingie that somehow is impervious to bombs & lasers & it eats up all the tanks & jeeps & it basically devouring everything in it's path like any other bad B-movie creature. The brilliant solution proposed by the brave G.I. Joe team is to poison it with the trace amounts of cyanide found inside apple seeds and so the team loads up all their trucks & guns with apples to blast into the germ cloud (see, told you it was badly written)

Anyhow, towards the end of the show there is a scene where one of the Joe's refuses to leave the line & keeps pitching apple after apple at the beast. When asked what he's doing & why he's not running, he says something to the effect that one of those apples is going to give the final dosage to stop this thing & it may be the next one he throws in, or the one after that.....

....and somehow, this badly written bit of schlock sticks with me.... & today it resonates again... today the prayers didn't 'work' (i.e. I didn't see the miracle I was expecting).... but the next prayer may be one that will do it... or the next one after that....

They say that insanity is doing the same thing over again & expecting a different result & so I feel the insanity of my heart, the foolishness of belief... this is the place where we 'kick at the darkness til it bleeds daylight' - of where we know the kingdom of heaven in near, that there is healing, hope, justice, freedom, love, just waiting to be poured out freely & maybe today will be the day we see His truth revealed & the lame will walk, the blind see, the prisoners loosed & love will reign as king....

...and if not today, then maybe the next day....

...or the one after that....