Showing posts with label Raising of Widow's Son of Nain. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Raising of Widow's Son of Nain. Show all posts

Sunday, September 25, 2022

10th Trinity III, Reborn in Death

 10th Trinity III

Luke 7:11-17 

Pierre Bouillon
And it came to pass that on the next day, Jesus went into a city called Nain, and
his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her. 

And seeing her, the Lord felt her suffering and said to her, "Weep no more." 

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, arise!" 

The dead man sat up and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying, "A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people." 

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10th August Trinity

September 25, 2022

Luke 7:11–17 

The Sunday Service for the Children speaks of Him who leads the living into the realm of death so that they may live anew. But it is not enough to simply come back to life again. It does not explain the real purpose behind the great cycling of life and death. That purpose is given in the next line of the children’s service: Christ leads what is dead into the realm of life so that it may behold, see, and grasp the Spirit of God itself. 

The funeral service speaks of the realm of the boundless, timeless world. This realm is filled with the power of God’s forward-streaming will. When we die, this
power of God’s will weaves together with the willing of our human soul. This weaving, knitting together of Christ’s will and human will creates an eye, an ocular in the soul. In the realm of death, this eye opens to behold Him, shining powerfully in the light realm of the Spirit. 

The widow’s son had been someone whose will had striven mightily toward beholding God. In the man’s visit to the realm of death, Christ’s creating will opened the widow’s son’s soul eye. And what he saw when his eye was opened was an opening between the realm of earth and the realm of the Spirit. And across that opening was a bridge between the realm of the living and the realm of the so-called dead. That bridge is Christ himself. 

Through Christ, we enter the realm of death. Through his power in our thoughts and hearts, we pass through time into the unbounded realm of timelessness. Through Christ, we are reborn within the realm of death. Through him, our soul’s eye no longer weeps but sees.

www.thechristiancommunity.org

   

Sunday, September 26, 2021

10th Trinity III, Eternity That Shaped You

10th Trinity III

Luke 7:11-17 

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her. 

And seeing her, the Lord felt her suffering and said to her, "Weep no more." 

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, "Young man, I say to you, arise!" 

The dead man sat up and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying, "A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people." 

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.


10th Trinity III

September 26, 2021

Luke 7:11-17

Iris  Sullivan
Every night we go to sleep. We meet with our guardian angel, our higher self and guide. We are cleansed of our fatigue and together we and our angel look back at the events of the previous day. We then plan for the coming day, what we need to do, how we will need to act. The next day, we rise to our tasks and inspirations.

When we die, we meet with Christ. We are cleansed of our weariness and ills. With him we look at our previous lifetime. And we plan for what we need to do and be, how we shall conduct our next life. After a rest, we will hear his voice, “Young one, I say to you, arise!” And we will be given to our mother.

Our fear of dying is sometimes a fear of not having lived the life that we intended before we were born. For we have all come with a unique mission. We would do well to pay attention to those glimmerings of inspiration, those subtle intentions, the angelic promptings that we bring back with us from sleep. For they are our day-by-day guide for living the life we truly intended. The poet’s John Donohue's words express the hopes of our angel:

Sulamith Wulfing
May the beauty of your life become more visible to you, that you may
glimpse your wild divinity.

…May the light of dawn anoint your eyes that you may behold what a miracle a day is.

May the liturgy of twilight shelter all your fears and darkness within the circle of ease.

 …May you find enough stillness and silence to savor the kiss of God on your soul and delight in the eternity that shaped you, that holds you and calls you.*

 



John O’Donohue, “A Blessing for Beauty”, from Beauty – The Invisible Embrace 

 

Sunday, September 22, 2019

9th August/September Trinity 2019, Last Fruits


August/September Trinity 

Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions


9th (of 9) August Trinity
September 22, 2019
Luke 7: 11-17

Fruits of the vine have ripened. They enclose the seeds for a new life. In nature, the fruit falls and dies away, releasing the seeds to begin a new cycle of life. But fruits can also be tended and harvested to another purpose—to be made into wine.

Today we hear of the young man; his life’s fruit had fallen green. Christ catches his soul; He finds the soul’s seed of the new, and plants it again on the earth. This is Christ as the great Gardener. He is tending a harvest for his Wine. But no matter whether the soul’s fruit falls
Pierre Bouillon
early or late, Christ is concerned with ongoing life, with the seeds within; He preserves them, carrying them and planting them where they next need to go.

In one lifetime, we may ripen soul fruits of many kinds. When ripe, the fruits must separate from the vine on which they grew, for their current cycle is finished. Things end, sometimes painfully. But what is valuable in our soul, the ripened sweetness, we can offer for the wine harvest. Our soul’s purest thoughts, our most noble feelings, the dedication of our will, form the sweetness of the soul’s fruit. These we can offer for the wine.

What is viable in our soul fruit, seeds for the future, are gathered up by our angel, under the direction of the Master Gardener. They will be preserved, be planted, grow and develop. It may be in another place and time. It may be for an entirely new and different purpose. But even in all of life’s apparent endings, the living seeds are not lost. Knowing this, we can keep trying, keep working to ripen our inner fruit, developing the sweetness, however late, in whatever cycle we find ourselves.

So now, in all the layers of our autumns, we can say with Rilke:

Lord: it is time. The summer was great...
Command the last fruits to be full,
give them yet two more southern days,
urge them to perfection, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.*


*Rilke, “Autumn Day”, translated by J. Mullen

Sunday, September 23, 2018

10th August Trinity 2018, Awaken in Christ's Body

10th Trinity August, September
Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the
next day Jesus went into a city called Nain,
Nicusor Dumitru
and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.


And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10th August Trinity
September 23, 2018
Luke 7: 11-17

Watching as a high diver plunges into the depths, he seems to disappear for a time before he re-surfaces. This is the time of the year when we are being encouraged to plunge into our own depths. And in the deepest and darkest part of our being there lies the fear of dying.

Part of this fear comes from the body’s need to protect its existence. But the other part comes from the soul’s fear of transformation, and little ego’s fear of extinction. This is because in our time, the little ego is so intensely interwoven with our bodily existence.

In today’s reading, a mother mourns because her son, a young man, has died. His path has taken him to where we all must go—into our deepest fear. And there he meets Christ, who calls him awake and bids him rise, to take up his bodily existence yet again.

Thus Christ establishes a new eternal archetype: one’s Self rises and lives through its relationship to the greater Self, Christ's I AM. Christ calls us awake and bids us rise, both now, and after we die. In the words of a mystic:

We awaken in Christ's body
as Christ awakens our bodies….

For if we genuinely love Him,
we wake up inside Christ's body
Danny Hahlbohm

where all our body, …
is realized in joy as Him,
and He makes us, utterly, real,
and everything … is in Him transformed

and recognized as whole, as lovely,
and radiant in His light
he awakens as the Beloved
in every last part of our body.[1]






[1] Symeon the New Theologian (949 - 1032), “We awaken in Christ's Body”, translated by Stephen Mitchell.

Sunday, September 24, 2017

10th August September Trinity 2016, Spirit Can Summon (Redux)

10th Trinity August- September

Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10th Trinity August- September
September 25, 2016
Luke 7, 11-17

When someone close to us dies, we grieve. Part of the difficulty we have is that, for our perception, the loved one seems swallowed up by an abyss. A darkness engulfs us, separates us from them. They are lost to us, and we weep for what is now missing in our own lives – their words, their touch, their love.
Christ approaches the grieving widow, now a grieving mother. He speaks to her kindly, tenderly. Like an approaching dawn, he comforts her – weep no more.
And then, like the glory of the sun rising above the horizon, he says to the dead one, ‘Arise!’ The darkness of separation is flooded with light and with life. Loves are reunited.

In our own lives, we too grieve our losses, be they loved ones, lost possessions, or unfulfilled dreams. These are the moment when Christ approaches. He bids us weep no more. He shows us that no matter how great the loss, no matter how deep the hopelessness, there is always a future, a new day. It may take time for the sun to rise, but, in the words of John O’Donohue:

As twilight makes a rainbow robe
From the concealed colors of day

In order for time to stay alive
Within the dark weight of night,
May we lose no one we love
From the shelter of our hearts.

When we love another heart
…We journey deep below time
Into that eternal weave
Where nothing unravels.

May we have the grace to see
…That whoever we have loved,
Such love can never quench.

Though a door may have closed,
Closed between us,
May we be able to view
Our lost friends with eyes
Wise with calming grace;
….
Bring warmth again to
Where the heart has frozen
In order that beyond the walls
…We may be able to
Celebrate the gifts they brought,
Learn and grow from the pain,
…Where spirit can summon
Beauty from wounded space.*


*John O'Donohue , “For Lost Friends” in To Bless the Space Between Us

Saturday, October 31, 2015

10th August/September Trinity 2007,Bloom

10th Trinity August September
Pierre Bouillon, wikicommons
Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10th August September Trinity
September 23, 2007
Luke 7, 11-17

 In recent weeks we have experienced in the gospels how easy it is to become distracted by outer busy-ness and how necessary it is to create quiet moments with which to listen to the Lord. We have heard how subtle and ever-changing the kingdom of the heavens is, and how worry about the future impedes our inner progress.

This is our last week before our encounter with Michael, whose name means ‘Who is like God?’ We will be crossing one of the thresholds of the year to meet him. And today’s reading is about crossing thresholds. A young man in the bloom of youth, dies. Christ approaches in empathy and calls him to rise and live. This is a picture for all of us who approach any threshold, whether in life, in our spiritual work, or at the end of our earthly life. As we pass through the portal, Christ approaches in empathy and bids us rise to resume the dance of life.

Christ has promised us: I will not leave you orphaned…. When one of His disciples asks Him, ‘But why do you show yourself to us and not to the world?’ Christ answers, ‘Because a loveless world is a sightless world. If you love me and treasure my words….the Father and I will be with you.’[1]

When we approach any threshold, we can be sure that our love for Christ will draw Him magnetically to accompany us. And we may hear His voice in the words of the poet:

I know the voice of depression

Still calls you.
I know those habits that can ruin your life
Still send their invitations.
But you are with the Friend now
And look so much stronger.
You can stay that way
And even bloom.[2]




[1]  John 14: 18-24, in The Message, The New Testament in Contemporary Language, by Eugene Peterson
[2] Hafiz, “Cast All Your Votes for Dancing” in I Heard God Laughing, Renderings of Hafiz, by Daniel Ladinsky, p.15

Thursday, October 29, 2015

10th August/September Trinity 2009, Last Fruits

10th Trinity August September
Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.

10th August-September Trinity
Sept. 27, 2009
Luke 7: 11-17

Fruits of the vine are ripe. They enclose the seeds for new life. In nature, the fruit falls and dies away, releasing the seeds to begin a new cycle of life. But they can also be tended and harvested to another purpose—to be made into wine.

Today we hear of the young man, the fruit of whose life had fallen green. Christ catches his soul; He finds the soul’s seed of the new, and plants it again on the earth. This is Christ as the great Gardener. He is tending a harvest for his Wine. But no matter whether the soul’s fruit falls early or late, He is concerned with ongoing life, with the seeds within; He preserves them, carrying them and planting them where they next need to go.

In one lifetime, we may ripen soul fruits of many kinds. When ripe, the fruits must separate from the vine on which they grew, for their current cycle is finished. Things end, sometimes painfully. But what is valuable in our soul, the ripened sweetness, we can offer for the wine harvest. Our soul’s purest thoughts, our most noble feelings, the dedication of our will, form the sweetness of the soul’s fruit. These we can offer for the wine. What is viable in our soul fruit, seeds for the future, are gathered up by our angel, under the direction of the Master Gardener. They will be preserved, to be planted, to grow and develop. It may be in another place and time. It may be for an entirely new and different purpose. But even in all of life’s apparent endings, the living seeds are not lost. Knowing this, we can keep trying, keep working to ripen our inner fruit, developing the sweetness, even late in whatever cycle we find ourselves.

So now, in all the layers of our autumns, we can say with Rilke:

Lord: it is time. The summer was great.
Lay your shadows onto the sundials….
Command the last fruits to be full,
give them yet two more southern days,
urge them to perfection, and chase
the last sweetness into the heavy wine.[1]





[1] Rilke, “Autumn Day”, translated by J. Mullen

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

10th August/September Trinity 2011, Blaze and Deepen

10th Trinity August September
Schnorr von Carolsfeld
Luke 7, 11-17

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.


10th August Trinity
September 25, 2011
Luke 7:11-17

In autumn, nature presents to us two gestures. The first are its fruits and seeds, falling to earth as nature dies back. They are an offering of continuing life for the next season. The other gesture manifests as the leaves, transforming themselves, offering themselves up to the living atmosphere as a blaze of color, before they become the humus for next round.

Today’s reading presents us with two similar gestures. The young man’s body is about to be offered up to the earth, as a kind of seed for the earth’s future. At the same time, Christ says to him, ‘Arise’. And he rises, both within the realm of death, and also to life on earth. He returns in a blaze of life and speech. And this event spreads over the countryside like the flaming colors of autumn over the land. Death and life begin to interpenetrate one another in a process that will culminate in Christ Jesus’ own resurrection.

When the hours become dark, we can welcome them as a time of deepening and transformation, especially as we grow older. As Rilke says:

I love the dark hours of my being.
Smitty Caboose
My mind deepens into them.
There I can find, as in old letters,
the days of my life, already lived,
and held like a legend, and understood.

Then the knowing comes: I can open
to another life that's wide and timeless.

So I am sometimes like a tree
rustling over a gravesite
and making real the dream
of the one its living roots
embrace:

a dream once lost
among sorrows and songs.[1]

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[1]   Rainier Maria Rilke, in Rilke’s Book of Hours:Love Poems to God, trans. by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy)



Monday, October 26, 2015

10th August Trinity 2015, Death Makes Us Whole

10th Trinity August, September
Luke 7, 11-17

Schnorr von Carolsfeld Bible 
And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her, the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.


10th Trinity August, September
September 27, 2015

Luke 7, 11-17
  
Death is a great mystery to us. It is also a great masquerade. The being of death is a pretender.
In today’s reading, a young man has died. One senses the communal loss and anguish. He is now ‘outside’, out beyond the city gates, beyond the crowd and his bereft and widowed mother. But he is not beyond Christ. Christ approaches him in death and bids him live, to rise above what would bind him and hold him down.

We too go through our dying times, even in life; times when we suffer the paralysis of grief; times when our former life dies away from us. And for us too, Christ approaches, especially just at such times. He bids us rise from our sleep, our grief, from our deaths.

For He is the master of the cycle of life, death and life again. Living things die; they fall, but like seeds. And from them a new life germinates. We die our smaller and greater deaths, but new life is already germinating within us, through Christ. For in our funeral service He says, I am the New Birth in Death. I am the Life in dying. As Novalis says,

What dropped us all into abyssmal woe,
Pulls us forward with sweet yearning now.
In everlasting life death found its goal,
For thou art Death who at last makes us whole.[1]



[1] Novalis, in Hymns to the Night.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

10th September Trinity 2015 Life, Death, Life

10th Trinity August, September
Luke 7: 11 - 17
Schnorr von Carolsfeld

And it came to pass that on the next day Jesus went into a city called Nain, and his disciples and a large crowd went along with him. And as he drew near to the gate of the city, they became aware that a dead man was being carried out—the only born son of his mother, and she was a widow. And a large crowd of people from the city accompanied her.

And seeing her, the Lord felt her suffering, and said to her, “Weep no more.”

And approaching, he touched the coffin, and pallbearers stood still. He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise!”

The dead man sat up, and began to speak. And Jesus gave him to his mother. Astonishment and awe seized all who were standing there, and they began to praise God and to glorify what was here revealed, saying,

“A prophet powerful in spirit has been raised among us, and God has come down to us, his people.”

Word about him spread out into all of Judea and all of the neighboring regions.


10th Trinity August, September
September 27, 2015
Luke 7, 11-17
  
Death is a great mystery to us. It is also a great masquerade. The being of death is a pretender.
In today’s reading, a young man has died. One senses the communal loss and anguish. He is now ‘outside’, out beyond the city gates, beyond the crowd and his bereft and widowed mother. But he is not beyond Christ. Christ approaches him in death and bids him live, to rise above what would bind him and hold him down.
We too go through our dying times, even in life; times when we suffer the paralysis of grief; times when our former life dies away from us. And for us too, Christ approaches, especially just at such times. He bids us rise from our sleep, our grief, from our deaths.
Paper masks for Day of the Dead

For He is the master of the cycle of life, death and life again. 

Living things die; they fall, but like seeds. And from them a new life germinates. We die our smaller and greater deaths, but new life is already germinating within us, through Christ. For in our funeral service He says, I am the New Birth in Death. I am the Life in dying. As Novalis says,

What dropped us all into abyssmal woe,
Pulls us forward with sweet yearning now.
In everlasting life death found its goal,
For thou art Death who at last makes us whole.[1]




[1] Novalis, in Hymns to the Night.