Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Entering the wilderness

The structure of life is the structure of the cross. Why? The question floats up as we studied the first part of Mark. Why did the Spirit lead Jesus into the wilderness? Why is there pain? And why does new life come from pain? I know these are human questions. The questions of why birth involves pain. They are also my questions as my son goes through his medical issues. My family enters a time of wilderness. My church enters into the wilderness as well as we are discerning our mission as members leave. My church is dying and we do not know the form of resurrection. My country enters into the wilderness of economic storms. The wilderness surrounds me, and to who do I turn?

The resurrection comes through the cross. I see have seen many times those images that make the cross a bridge to God. While there is validity to that symbol, the cross as the structure of life is seldom acknowledged, but it also true. A seed must die to become a plant. Pain is part of the price for new life. I know the most important transformations in my life have been preceded by a painful period. I am now in the midst of a death, a death of how my son's first year should go, a death what will my live become.

Today, I am called to be a peace maker. I will meet with two warring parties, and yet I do not think I have the strength for the process. Peace comes through the suffering and pain of the cross. I have no answers to the whirlwind of questions that nail me to the wilderness, but I know the voice that comes whirlwind of questions, asking me who am I to ask. Was I there at the foundations of the world. I am helpless in myself to answer. I am left with prayer.

In the midst of death,
you revive. In the midst
of flying rocks, you challenge.
In the midst of anger, you
whisper. In
the midst of nails, you forgive.
In the midst of washing hands
and responsibility, you are silient.
In midst of blood, you walk.
In the midst the cross,
you cry to why you have been
forsaken. In the midst of our lives,
you live.

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