Something Fresh


Dear Eugene,

This morning on my way walking back home with Sumi, we saw a young student running downhill in the rain, obviously trying to catch a bus.

The road was slippery. Even from 20 feet away I could hear his (her?) heart babbling a prayer, "Oh, God, let me not miss this bus!"  His white umbrella looked miserable, defensive and defenseless, failing the one vocation it is called to.

There I said a prayer, "In the name of Jesus and his coming alive, I pray that you will protect this young man from falling. I remember how you had sustained me more than once when I was in the same situation, and I know you love him just as much as you love me. So hear our prayers. I trust in you and how you have our best interests in mind, as shown in your Son's sacrifice and carrying the world to turn a corner for good. Amen."

I must confess I walked out of my church's Easter service last year, crying. So much fanfare; all empty calories. Of course I judged. But God be my witness I didn't look down on anyone. I walked out to the open-air parking lot and prayed for his people. I needed fresh air from the suffocation.  I was trapped in religion.

So how is our Easter celebration going to be more than a commemoration of a martyrdom (for our "personal salvation") but also a commissioning to die the same so to live likewise, that to die again and again to ourselves daily is to will what God wills in ways various and creative, big and small, and to truly live is to let the Spirit innovate, debut something new and fresh out of even our criminal record and ever-present brokenness?

Be thou my vision, we pray.

Yours, Alex

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