“I’m sorry. Are you ok? Do you want a hug?” Mumbled under their breath with a scowl on their face, these lines eek out of our boys’ lips as they stand before us with the requirement to apologize to one another. They race through the lines before quickly trying to point out the other’s wrong-doing to ensure that I know where the blame rightfully belongs.
We seek to teach our boys forgiveness to prepare them for the Easter Forgiveness that they will come to need as they get older and the way becomes more difficult. This fifth week of Easter, I am reminded that Easter Forgiveness cannot happen in the courtroom. Any attempts to argue one’s way to forgiveness or justify its need will only nullify God’s grace. While we must take injustice seriously, we also must be careful as the courtroom’s attempt at justice produced crucifixion. Resurrection emerged far from the halls of human justice. Continue reading
Tonight, our oldest will accompany me to our Tenebrae service. Seated next to me, I will envelop him with my black-robed arm wrapped around his little body, as he watches the scene that unfolds – haunting melodies, dramatic scripture readings, descending darkness. I wonder how wide his eyes will become when we reach the pinnacle of the service and the Bible is slammed shut, the candle extinguished, and we sing in the dark.
Quietly as I can, I turn off all the lights in the kitchen, leaving only the candle’s flame to light the way, giddy and erratic. I turn the chair around, slowly and methodically, to face out the window. I breathe in the state of the world – the sleeping boys, the snoring dog, the rising world.
pause.give.thanks 