I fell asleep contemplating the image of a shining mountain rising out of the news of our day. The dreadful stories and harsh images that bombard the Today show. The editorials and cowardly anonymous comments on news websites and even personal blogs. Rising up out of all of this what is our shining mountain?
Where do we see lives transfigured by faith, by hope, by charity...the hands of God in Christ?
Whatever comes to mind--a neighbors helping one another, friends bringing food, a congregation gathering to mourn, honest conversation--can seem so puny in comparison to the sheer weight and volume of the reported cesspool of "news."
Is it me? Why is it so hard to paint an image of the bright mountain that bears equal, or hopefully more conquering, status to the valley?
Perhaps because Easter is the only answer. And to get to that mountain the path winds through great agony and death....
It is the Yet/And to our lives. We have been gifted with the ultimate out come of Easter, and yet we have not yet come to that final chapter in our earthly story. We carry the grief, the wounds, the traumatic stress that make up our story...
"They kept the matter to themselves questioning what this rising from the dead could mean." Indeed.
(My writing style and vocabulary could possibly reflect two hours worth of Downton Abby. I've just begun to watch, what is sure to become, my newest addiction.)
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