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Tuesday, May 03, 2011

The Bell Tolls

"What man among you, if he has a hundred sheep and has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open pasture and go after the one which is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, 'Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep which was lost!' I tell you that in the same way, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance." —Jesus (Luke 15:4-7)

On the subject of Osama bin Laden's death:

I've found the "party" footage disturbing. While I'm not sure such military action is always avoidable, I fail to see the cause for such wild celebration.

Osama bin Laden's soul is as equally loved by God, and his redemption was as eagerly desired by God, as that of the most devout Christian grandmother, or the sweetest, most innocent newborn.

Even if one believes that capital punishment is acceptable, the taking of a human life is always a moment for solemnity, not boisterous revelry.

For Whom the Bell Tolls

by John Donne

No man is an island,
Entire of itself.
Each is a piece of the continent,
A part of the main.
If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less.
As well as if a promontory were.
As well as if a manor of thine own
Or of thine friend's were.
Each man's death diminishes me,
For I am involved in mankind.
Therefore, send not to know
For whom the bell tolls,
It tolls for thee.

The Good Shepherd weeps for the loss of even the most violent, rebellious, wild sheep.

...and the bell tolls...

Monday, May 02, 2011

Is any of you sick...?

I need to write the beauty of this day, before it fades.

Escorted before the Throne by family--blood and Spirit.

Renouncing and reclaiming.

Large, soul-satisfying servings of the Word, succulent and filling like never before.

Forgiveness, given and received.

Sweet singing and powerful prayer.

And yet. And yet....

Hope...and taunting.

The image of a clenched fist--not of defiance, but of resistance to letting go.

It follows me.

Father, show me what I need to set free, so that I may be free, indeed.