Joy Beyond Joy

She sits in the Garden
tears mar her cheeks
confused, frightened
where did they take him
where have they hidden him
Mary . .  . .

Her heart stops, she can’t breath
it is his voice, it looks like him,
yet he, he, he . .  .
she steps closer
a whisper, Rabbouni

Bursting into the upper room,
she dances from person to person, He lives
He lives, I saw Him
I touched Him
I spoke to Him, He Lives

He Lives
Oh Joy beyond Joy
O Love beyond Love
HE LIVES
Ruth Jewell, ©April 21, 2019

Photo by Susn Matthiessen on Unsplash

I was blind but now I see – Prayerful Tuesday

23He took the blind man by the hand and led him out of the village; and when he had put saliva on his eyes and laid his hands on him, he asked him, “Can you see anything?” 24And the man looked up and said, “I can see people, but they look like trees, walking.” 25Then Jesus laid his hands on his eyes again; and he looked intently and his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly. – Mark 8:23-25

Walk in the fog by George Holden Publicdomain.net
Walk in the fog by George Holden
Publicdomain.net

In January I had Cataract surgery and I must admit I never knew how much I was missing or how dark my world had become.  One of the first things I noticed was that our light bulbs were a lot brighter and we didn’t need to change them after all.  I also noticed evergreen trees, grass and the leaf buds on our Lilacs were so much greener than they were.  The colors of the crocus and daffodils seemed to pop out like neon lights and I was amazed at how blue the sky was (that is when we had blue sky).  The funniest thing was my IPad mini.  I have a screen saver of stars and low and behold I just discovered there were also clouds in the picture.  I couldn’t see them before.

I thought about the scriptures where Jesus healed those who were blind, especially the one where it took two tries before the man could see clearly. In many ways we are all like that one man.  We see but we don’t really ‘see.’

My sudden clarity in sight has also made me think of all the things we miss because we don’t “see” them, really see them. We see the homeless man standing on the corner but we don’t really see him. We don’t see his pain, or his embarrassment, or his fear.  What we see is a figure, as the blind man said as a walking tree, but we don’t see the human, the child of God who is before us.  How many of you have taken the hand of a homeless person and looked into their eyes and saw the person for who they are, our brother or sister in God.

How many of you have gone to a jail and comforted the mother of a victim, or taken the hand of a felon and said you are loved by God, don’t be afraid.  How many of you have seen children arrested for stealing drugs at their parent’s request  or for stealing to provide for their family’s who are held in Juvenile Detention for a year or more because there parent or guardian can’t get clean from drugs or alcohol and there is no responsible adult to care for them.  How many of you have held someone suffering from mental illness or PTSD and said ‘I’m here, you aren’t alone.’

If you haven’t volunteered at a shelter or soup kitchen yet find the time to do so.  Volunteering there is a lesson in compassion and humility, of seeing people society throws away as our brothers, sisters, and friends who are in pain and afraid.

I am grateful that I am now able to see creation more clearly, the colors in sunrises and sunsets, and to rediscover the beauty of spring flowers.  I love it that I can now see the faces of my friends and family, each and every one of them, more clearly.  I love it that much that had been hidden by my own dark glass has been made clear.  But today there is so much darkness, so much fear, so much hatred that clarity of sight is difficult for us all. Jesus said “I Am the Light of the world.” (John 9:5b) and in the words of the Prophet Mohammad “God is the Light of the heavens and the earth.” (Quran 23.35a)  As people of faith we are to be the light that brings sight to the blind.  We are called to bring the light of love, compassion, justice, and peace to a wounded world.

My recommended Spiritual Practice for this week is to open your eyes and SEE the world around you. Take the time to gaze at the beauty of a flower, and marvel at the rebirth of delicate green leaves on a tree. Let the beauty of creation refresh your heart and cleanse your eyes.  Then take the time to see the people around you, offer a sandwich to the homeless man, woman, or teenager on the corner and take the time to look into their eyes and see your brother or sister, your son or daughter.  Let them know they are known for whom they are a child of God.

Gracious Lord, you gave us eyes to see you in the face of all who surround us, to see you in a smiling baby’s face, the wrinkled face of an elderly, in the broken lives of the homeless and the hungry.  In our rush of our daily living we become blind to all the love you have given us and we forget to pass on the love we are given to those in need.  Help us in our blindness Lord.  Amen

Ruth Jewell, ©March 8, 2016

The Work of Christmas Begins

A Poem by Howard Thurman

When the star in the sky is gone,
When the Kings and Princes are home,
When the shepherds are back with their flocks,
The work of Christmas begins.
To find the lost,
To heal the broken,
To feed the hungry
To release the prisoner,
To teach the nations,
To bring Christ to all,
To make music in the heart.


Audio of Jim Strathdee singing I Am the Light of the World

Today, January 6th, is Epiphany, the day tradition tells us the Wise Men visited Jesus, Mary and Joseph. My mother used to call this day “little Christmas,” and she would prepare a special meal in the evening. I don’t remember gifts being exchanged but we did eat a lot, and usually finished up the Christmas cookies.  But, it was years later when the song I Am the Light of the World by Jim Strathdee, based on Howard Thurman’s poem, came out that I began to look at this day differently.

Today instead of just thinking about nameless astrologers coming from the east and giving unusual gifts to the Child I see this day as less a celebration and more of a new start to living as Jesus taught.  Thurman’s poem and Strathdee’s music remind us that Christmas isn’t just one day, 12 days, or the 34 days of Epiphany. (Yes, today only begins the season of Epiphany which will end on Ash Wednesday this year on February 10th when Lent begins.) We are called to carry the message of the love of compassion, justice and peace throughout the year.  The season of Epiphany offers us the opportunity to make caring for our fellow travelers on this planet, human or animal, a habit.  A habit that empowers the weak and the young, gives food to the hungry and compassion to our elderly, poor, lonely, homeless, and war torn neighbors in this place we call home.  Strathdee’s hymn is the theme song for our work in the world, the work of Christmas.

Every year we are given the opportunity to begin again as Jesus followers.  Every year we are reminded of who we are, and whose we are. Every year we are given another chance to live our lives in such a way as to bring change to the world.  Every year we are given the chance to accept the radical challenge of being the Christ figure for the people we see and interact with every day. It is a radical idea!  If each of our neighborhoods is changed, even a little, eventually we change the world and Jesus and God never asked us to be more than who we are, only to be the best that we can be.

To live with compassion, love justice and to travel in the company of the Divine is all we are asked to do. I don’t think that means a drastic change in our habits, rather it means we share what we have so that all have enough. Is that really so hard?

So I challenge myself, and you, to begin to change how we live in the world, feeding the hungry, helping the homeless, standing up and letting your voice be heard when justice is violated and oh so many other little acts of compassion. Each of us can do something. We don’t have to do everything at once simply pick one to get started, let one act of love become a habit this year.

Ruth Jewell, ©January 6, 2016