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
September 28, 2014
Luke 7: 11 – 17
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 at the events of the previous day. We 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. 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
words express the hopes of our angel:
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.[1]