Tag Archives: Mike Johnson

5 old churches in Norway: Lessons for now

I have spent a lot of time learning the history of the world, focusing on the church. All my study did not prepare me for Trump — it should have.  But no matter how many similar leaders I find in the past, I still wonder, “How did a Trump inspire crusaders?”

How did the U.S. get to the place where Speaker of the House Mike Johnson would give public glory to God for final passage of the “big beautiful bill,” while other religious leaders decried the legislation as un-Christian, un-American, evil and dangerous?

But it happened. On July 3, after the House passed the bill in a process known as “reconciliation” with the Senate version, Johnson tweeted, “Soli Deo Gloria,” or “Glory to God alone,” followed by a Bible verse from 2 Corinthians 5:18 — “All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation.”

Believe it or not, he was comparing the reconciling love of God Christians know as the source of life to the Congressional process of budget reconciliation the Senate uses to avoid compromises over legislation — in this case, legislation evangelical Christians support but many other Christians do not.

Over and over throughout history, people have followed wicked leaders and have used those leaders to represent and fulfill their own hateful agendas even as they were deluded and used by the despot for his. But over and over again, true believers have worked out their faith, speaking and acting out their convictions in confusing and threatening situations.

We saw both realities in Norway, represented in some fascinating, historic church buildings. Our trip has been, among other things, a living lesson on how the church has failed to and follow Jesus — but also brilliantly succeeded.  We visited five churches in four locations as we cruised up the coast that told us old tales with urgent lessons for today.

Bergen: Keep your simple faith

We had quite a bit of time to spend in Bergen, the gateway city to the fjords. We were wandering around on Sunday and climbed up steps to an old, monumental church sheathed in material masking its rehab. It was St. John’s Church, built in 1894, an impressive neo-Gothic building known for having Bergen’s highest tower

We found our way into the building just in time to kneel with the locals at the altar and hold out little silver cups as the pastor gave us bread and a deacon poured us sweet wine from a common pitcher. It was beautiful.

68.7% of Norwegians were members of the state sponsored and funded Church of Norway as of the end of 2019. However, only 20% of Norwegians say that religion occupies an important place in their lives according to Gallup, which makes Norway one of the most secular countries of the world. Only about 3% of the population attends church services or other religious meetings more than once a month.

The old church building and their church were falling apart but we were welcomed by a kind-faced mother attending with her two 20-something sons sitting in the back with us holding on to the faith. The whole thing struck me as beautiful.

Trondheim: Godless religious leaders with a personal motive

The mother church of the church of Norway in Trondheim, the cathedral, Nidarosdomen, was much less beautiful — although I found a marvelous statue of Francis of Assisi to inspire my memory of him leading up to his day last week.

Nidaros Cathedral was built over the burial site of St. Olav, the Viking king who became Norway’s national saint. Olav Haraldsson was born in the 990s. As a young boy, he went out “viking” (on sea expeditions). His travels took him to England, where he fought in the army of King Ethelred. In France, he spent two winters in Prince Richard’s court in Normandy. During his stay in Normandy, Olav was tutored in the Christian faith, and he was baptised in Rouen in 1014.

Olav returned to Norway the following year, with the goal of uniting the country as a Christian kingdom under his rule. He justified his right to the throne by claiming he was a descendant of King Harald Hårfagre (Harald I Fairhair). He was affirmed by the assemblies. By 1024, Christianity became the official religion in Norway.

Olav had powerful opponents among Norwegian noblemen, and his brutal actions made him unpopular. When King Knut of Denmark seized the country in 1028, Olav fled to his brother-in-law in Gardariket. He returned two years later to regain power but was stopped by a large peasant army led by Norwegian noblemen. On July 29, Olav was killed at the Battle of Stiklestad

If you watch Vikings Valhalla you will see another version of Olaf plotting to kill pagans. The creators do not have him die in battle but by the hand of Lief Erickson’s sister who is the living icon of the old ways and old gods

After the battle, Olav’s corpse was transported to Nidaros and buried at the edge of the River Nidelva. Soon people began telling stories of miracles that occurred around the king’s grave. One year and five days after the battle the grave was opened, and Olav was canonized as a saint. Those who were present said that the king looked as though he was sleeping. The corpse was unchanged, but his hair and nails had grown.

The saint’s body was placed in a beautiful silver casket. The casket was first taken to Clemens Church but was later moved to the church that was built over his tomb. Here it stood by the altar through most of the Middle Ages. The stories of Olav’s miracles spread across Norway and the rest of Europe, and the saint’s tomb became one of the most important pilgrimage sites in Northern Europe. The church’s bio says

St. Olav is often depicted wearing a crown and holding an axe, with a dragon beneath his feet. The crown symbolises that he is Norway’s eternal king. The axe shows his authority as a just legislator, but it is also the tool that took his life. The dragon can be interpreted in several ways, both as an image of Satan and the evil that the king defeated. Perhaps it also depicts the king’s own sinful life.

Nationalism led by bloodthirsty men never works out. When lies are sanctified by the church, true faith is undermined. No one can kill it, but a murderous, mythic, supposedly-Christian leader is a spiritual virus. Venezuelans murdered in their boats and toddlers in zip ties are just the beginning of a U.S. epidemic.

 Tromso : Longing for the presence of Jesus

At the surprising town of Tromso we visited the dramatic parish church in the new part of town across the bridge from the old city. It is called the “Arctic Cathedral” in the tourist brochures. It is not a cathedral but it does evoke the snowy peaks of the “northland.” We somehow had no idea the territory above the arctic circle was so beautiful.

We enjoyed meeting our taxi driver from Somalia and walking back over the dramatic bridge. But the church was not really a good tourist destination for bus loads of tour groups finding something to do.

For a Jesus follower, however, it is an oasis of beauty and inspiration. The year I graduated from high school in 1972, Victor Sparre replaced the clear panes that had framed the city view with his most important work of glass art. It depicts the hand of God from which three luminous rays emanate; one through Jesus, one through a woman and one through a man. As the sun rises, a soaring Christ bedazzles in cobalt blues and golds.

The longing for Jesus to rise again among us is persistent in any age among Christians. But the Evangelicals are especially stirred up with thoughts of the rapture, I hear, just like they were in 1972. They have a wounded antichrist seizing power and are wearing hats on their foreheads to mark their obedience. So maybe they are right this time.

I was happy to wander into a striking piece of architecture and art in the middle of what I used to think of as nowhere. Jesus manages to meet me wherever I turn.

Kirkenes: Religion used as a nationalistic prop

Our turnaround spot on our cruise was Kirkenes, just miles from the Russian border and not far from Murmansk, where the nuclear subs live – the old ones are hazardous waste, the new ones are ready to lay waste. It is a dangerous area. Our guide begged us not to get cute with the border crossing.

Two churches in the area serve as cautionary tales from Christians caught in the nationalist urges of their leaders.

Boris and Gleb Chapel

In 1826, the demarcation of the Norway–Russia border was completed. The border was set as the Pasvik River. But there is an exception as the river nears the mouth because an old Russian Orthodox chapel was on the wrong side.

After the agreement there were still disputes between the Norwegian authorities and Russian fishermen. After further confrontations, the County Governor of Finnmark called on a ship from the Royal Norwegian Navy to show some force during the heaviest fishing months.

King Oscar II Chapel at Grense Jakobselv.

In 1851, the Interior Ministry sent an independent investigator to see about the disputes who did not share the governor’s views on a solution. Instead of a show of force, he proposed to build a chapel at Grense Jakobselv. A Lutheran chapel would be a boundary marker, in the same way the Russian Orthodox chapel of Boris Gleb had been used for border demarcation in 1826. In the summer of 1869, the new chapel was finally built.

In 1873, King Oscar II of Sweden and Norway visited the chapel. To commemorate this visit, he bestowed this chapel with a marble slab with the bilingual inscriptions: Kong Oscar II hørte Guds ord her den 4de Juli 1873 (Norwegian language) and Gonagas Oscar II gulai Ibmel sane dobe dam 4 ad Juli 1873 (Northern Sami language) which means “King Oscar II heard the words of God here on the 4th of July 1873.”

Mitrofan at Boris Gleb Church

According to The Barents Observer, in 2023, when Mitrofan, the Metropolitan of Murmansk, visited Boris Gleb church, he had a nationalist agenda. He was reasserting that  Borisoglebsk, the Russian exclave on the western shore of the Pasvik River, is holy land — the four square kilometer area where the Church of Boris and Gleb stands is a sanctuary honoring two Orthodox saints who were killed in Kievan Rus in the 11th Century.

He was memorializing the martyrs by connecting them with the present martyrs being killed by godless Ukrainians from Kiev. Mitrofan has made himself a leading spiritual proponent of his country’s bloody onslaught on the neighboring country.

In 2022 he said, “Orthodoxy is the only force of God left on earth, our Lord has no-one left but the Russian Orthodox Church.” In 2023, in Borisoglebsk, in Mitrofan stood on the border to another neighboring country and reiterated his Orthodox world view and anti-western position, “This is a holy site that stands on the border to another world, a world that is unfriendly to us.” Church leaders and pilgrims listening to his address prayed for “peace on the land of Holy Rus and for the strong spirit of the Russian Armed Forces.”

If all that seems strange to you, consider that Pete Hegseth, of all people, apparently sober and repentant for his wanton past, was the archbishop of the U.S. Army leading the silent generals in prayer last week, commissioning them to weed out the enemy among us. Here he is praying with the troops three weeks ago. You can find him praying for the generals last week during his infamous speech.

I have a lot more to learn from the churches of Norway. So far, they remind me that is frail and also surprisingly enduring. Leaders are fickle, stupid and brutal but many of them also reach us with the hand of God. The Spirit of God is invoked for all sorts of evil, yet my simple turns during my pilgrimage showed how easy it is to enter what is beyond us. Jesus is known and loved despite the grotequeries of European history and present day regurgitation of the worst of it. We may not feel OK but we will be saved.

Wrangling about law when “nothing is written”

One of my favorite scenes in the masterpiece, Lawrence of Arabia, shows what happens after Lawrence returns from his journey across the Nefud desert. He has just accomplished the impossible by taking the Ottoman port of Aqaba from the desert side.  Having returned across the deadly, scorching expanse, he is told one of his companions, Gasim, fell off his camel and was left behind. He is advised any attempt to save him is futile — Gasim’s death is “written.”

Lawrence goes into the desert to find Gasim.  I give you the long version of the scene of his return just to celebrate the cinematography and score. It is worth your four minutes just to watch David Lean humanize the abstraction of sand and sky.

Later on that night, after Lawrence has rehydrated and awakened in time for dinner, Sherrif Ali, in all humility, says, “Truly, for some men nothing is written unless they write it.”

I think it is safe to say Lawrence was teaching Ali to think, “Everyone decides their own fate. No one’s destiny is predetermined.” And “I’ll be damned if I let that man die.” I hesitate to disagree with Hollywood, but Lawrence is wrong even if he is brave. I don’t think it is “me, or us, against the world.” If nothing is “written” it is not because men rule  the world, but because  the world is alive with the Spirit of its Creator and is growing in grace (or in spite of it). We should be beyond arguing about what is merely written by now. But we wrangle.

Daily Mail captures Johnson at the courthouse

The fight for what is written

Last week the spectacle of Trump in court continued, with Mike Johnson, himself, attending in order to subvert the gag order (possibly in the name of Jesus), with Matt Gaetz tweeting in the ex-president’s honor, “Standing back and standing by, Mr. President.” For those guys “nothing is written until they write it,” for sure, as far as I can see.

For the prosecutors who dare to bring Trump to trial, “It is written, in the law. And no one is above it.” The law is god in a pluralisitc democracy and the prosecutors want it known the assaulters are crashing up against the stone of the legal code.

We’re having a national crisis about the law. But all those Christians involved in this battle should remember that law is just a tutor (disciplinarian, guardian, etc.) to teach us how to exercise our freedom to live in grace. Isn’t that the clear New Testament teaching? Subvert the law or apply it, it can’t kill you or save you, at least not forever.

The temptation to fight for or against what is written is everywhere, it seems.

  • Right now, many people are so afraid, they are reverting to certainty and order. Jesus Collective devolved into a teaching platform instead the catalyst for a movement. They may have fallen off their camel in the desert.
  • My former denomination has vainly tried to quash a book people have written about their experiences of being LGBTQ in their branch of the Church, cast out, and abused by what someone said was “written.” This contrary book was written by people who refused to leave someone in the desert, refused to be confined to principles imposed in the 1600’s.
  • My HOA leaders keep trying to shore up what went wrong with the past management of our old building instead of starting here and now and working together for the future. Like I said last time, someone threatened a lawsuit because of some words thrown their way! There are many lawyers scheming away.
  • My church splendidly presents ancient humans with lovely words each week and performs classic chants with great voices and instruments. They are heirs of someone else’s invention instead of inventing like the heirs we are. I think we may love being ruled by the liturgical rules.

You have your own examples, I’m sure. I think I am effectively tired, again, of everyone who teaches, “It is written.” I’m a Jesus follower, so I am mainly talking about church leaders, pulpiteers and dueling factions splitting up the Methodist Church, etc., who are wrangling over words, litigating righteousness constantly, sometimes like Trump, sometimes like the  prosecutors, but rarely in grace.

Don’t we resist bad teachers intuitively?

That is a wishful question, of course, since we follow tracks that are bad for us all the time. We believe the voices in our head defending us against what we thought might kill us as a child! We all have our own laws we follow. But don’t most of us also have an operable b.s. detector?

If we connect with Jesus at all, the Holy Spirit will be helping us detect what might really kill us.  The main way God does that is to bear witness in our own hearts, souls, minds and strengths that we are God’s adopted children in Jesus.

We tend to settle for much less than that wondrous place in the world. Nevertheless, I think we all know about it at some level. I think I felt the following truth before I read it in the Bible when I was seventeen for the first time, as a relatively aware adult:

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you received a spirit of adoption [into the full legal standing as an heir]. When we cry, “Abba! Father!” it is that very Spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs: heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if we in fact suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him. — Romans 8:14-17 (NRSVUE)

I’ABBA, FATHER! – The Place of Praiseve always resisted the heresy of power-hungry men saying they love the Bible and then undermining the fundamental truth Paul taught. Nothing in the New Testament was written about how we should live  which was not first written by the Spirit witnessing to us, just like God taught Paul. Our organic relationship with our loving-parent-of-a-God is the central example Jesus wants to demonstrate. We’re not an application of principle, nothing is merely “written;” the Spirit is writing. We’re not unforgiveable, merely the sum of what we can make of ourselves, we’re all imminent miracles.

I have to admit, I’ve got that power-hunger in me, too. I also often feel I, alone, must solve the problems I face. We were talking in a meeting of psychotherapists not long ago about clients who struggle so hard with their view of themselves, views that have a repeating narrative, something “written,” making ruts in their brains.   They come up against certain situations and a voice comes from nowhere, it seems. It could insist, “We never cause conflict. It is deadly.” Or worse, “You are unlovable. Don’t bother.” You probably have stories that repeat in you, too.

Yet In the surprisingly psychologically-sound Romans 8 (only surprising to people who think humanity has progressed until they and their pleasant splendor is possible), we are reminded, or promised, what every one who shares Christ’s death and resurrection knows. Nothing is “written,” at least not in stone. Everything is a new creation in Jesus. We’re changing and growing in grace. The Spirit of God is creating us right now and we’re creating right alongside.

Right now and forever: Life at the end of the world

At least three of my clients last week were talking about the end of the world.

When the Circle Counseling therapists got together for their monthly meeting, I asked them if they had similar experiences. They not only had similar conversations with their clients, some of them personally sensed the same apocalyptic zeitgeist that worried them.

Jamie Lee Curtis, Halloween Ends
Jamie Lee Curtis (the latest Great Mother) endures our never-ending Halloween in last year’s Halloween Ends.

Our stories piled up until we had a lot of evidence that people feel the end of something is happening. I immediately thought the pile resembled R.E.M.’s dreamy nightmare song from 1987: It’s the End of the World As We know It (and I Feel Fine). Here are a few of the scenes in the nightmare I heard about:

  • the hollowing out of Late Capitalism courtesy of consultants like McKinsey,
  • everything global warming,
  • the terrifying and tragic war between Israel and Hamas,
  • a man with a combat weapon at large in Maine,
  • a Trump-affirmed election denier elected Speaker of the House, and more

The powerlessness is palpable.

How do we help each other endure this time? Can we find faith, hope and love in it? Or are we doomed to throw off such niceties and just survive? The therapists did not answer all my questions. But I did come away with some inspiration to stay in a place I have been trying to remain, into which I invited a couple of clients when they were feeling overwhelmed: right now and forever.

Psychologically, it makes sense to stay in the present and work with what is in front of you, not living in regret about the past or in what ifs about the future. Spiritually, if we nurture our right-now relationship with God, we can live in a transcendent, eternal reality that fuels our hope in hard times and often creates possibilities for goodness to emerge from the most recent tragedies we experience.

The Transhistorical Body

I think my right-now-and-forever relationship with God includes being part of the transhistorical body of Christ that emerged with Jesus and is eternal. Even though the Church is getting tossed around by the zeitgeist, it is still the home for the hope of the world, it is still stationed in the hollowing out middle, and it is still a place where everyone can find relief and restoration.

When my former church became the end of the church as we knew it, my son and I retrieved some of our intellectual property before the web archives all died and reformed The Transhistorical Body website. Day by holy day, our collection of wonders will reinforce how Jesus has been present in every era and in all sorts of people bringing the hope of resurrection. [Here’s the link if you want to subscribe. It goes live with the All Saints Day triduum, October 31]

Living in right-now and forever with God in the transhistorical body of Christ brings freedom from being over-responsible for Russia’s takeover of Crimea and under-responsible for caring about the person in the elevator with you. Being part of the Transhistorical Body comforts us by reminding us how Jesus has found people in every era who follow him and make a difference, and it comforts us by reminding us we can’t possibly know or control just how creative God when times are scary.

I want to leave you with one example from the transhistorical body who might help explain why Mike Johnson is Speaker of the House (especially if that scares you) and why it is crucial to have a right now and forever relationship with God.

First, Mike Johnson

Speaker Johnson was born in 1972 to devout Evangelicals in Louisiana. Few people know a lot about him, yet. But I do know a lot about the church of his childhood, since I was there. It was obsessed with the end of the world. (Michael Stipe was born in 1960, raised as a Christian in a family full of Methodist ministers and says his song reflects that preoccupation).  Apocalyptic movements often thrive in troubled times. Reactive groups look toward a golden age. They often follow a person they believe is God-ordained. If you want to get deeply into the weeds on this, read this fascinating paper by Paul Ziolo that traces occurances.

In Mike Johnson’s case, Trump is his leader (yes, people think he is ordained by God) and the golden age he longs for hearkens back to a time before godless people infected his beloved church with abortion and same-sex marriage — and before capitalism was regulated (how that gets in there still mystifies me).

Johnson’s goal as a child was to become a firefighter like his idolized father. His life changed forever when he was twelve and his father was permanently disabled while fighting a fire. His father could not save his (notably black) partner who died in the fire and spent the rest of his life running a foundation named in his memory. Johnson, the oldest child, took on a great deal of responsibility, became a lawyer, and became a leader among the lawyers who have been working to take back America for Jesus.

The ongoing influence of Joachim de Fiore

Strangely, I have found, Mike Johnson’s view of the world and the urgency he and his fellow election-deniers feel follows the path laid out by one of the most influential teachers you’ve never heard of: Joachim de Fiore. Fiore’s extremely influential prophetic writings in the 12th and 13th centuries reshaped European thinking and formed the basis for many subsequent reactions to the troubles of the world, right down to the cult of Trump. In Fiore’s case, the Church has been particularly transhistorical.

There is no way I can sum up the intricacies of Joachim’s thinking, which mainly interprets the Book of Revelation. But Lucas Coia gives us a good start on his groundbreaking theories which now seem very familiar:

Simply put, Fiore believed that the events recorded in the Old Testament prefigured those of the New, which in turn, predicted the future.

This was linked to Joachim’s famous tripartite division of history, with each epoch corresponding to a person of the Trinity. Thus, the Age (status) of the Father began with Adam, came to fruition with Abraham and ended with Christ, while the status of the Son began with King Uzziah of Judah, came to fruition with Zechariah—John the Baptist’s father—and was about to end in Joachim’s own time.

This last point accounts for the popularity of Fiore’s prophetic message. According to Joachim, the Age of the Holy Spirit, believed to have begun with Saint Benedict of Nursia, was soon to be fulfilled. In fact, this would occur in the year 1260. And people needed to prepare.

Why 1260? Well, Revelation 12:1-6 reads: “A great portent appeared in heaven: a woman clothed with the sun … and (she) fled into the wilderness … so that there she can be nourished for one thousand two hundred sixty days.” Yes, it was that simple.

Fiore’s tripartite “tree” (above) is reproduced in all sorts of European programs for world improvement from then on. His approach to history infects almost everything, especially in the 20th Century when technological revolutions make enormous power possible and Eurocentric thinkers believe they can control the world.

  • Hitler’s idea of the Third Reich directly reflects Fiore’s view of history.
  • Marxists look to the withering away of capitalism and a golden age of communism.
  • Jihadists, like Hamas, look to the defeat of infidels and the universal rule of Sharia law.
  • Americans believe dictators will be defeated and they will make the world safe for democracy.
  • Evangelicals look to bring in the second coming of Jesus by making the Gospel available to every people group.
  • I still sing “this is the dawning of the Age of Aquarius.”

Fiore’s patterns thoroughly infected thinking in Europe long before the 20th century. One example from Paul Ziolo illustrates:

During the 17th and 18th centuries — the ‘Age of Enlightenment’ — thinkers sought to redefine the ‘modern age’ and the core of their legacy is the still-current tendency to dismiss the past as an aberrant prelude to modernity, confining it within the  straitjacket of ‘mainstream’ history teaching — the three epochs, Ancient, Medieval and Modern, with the last held equivalent to Joachim’s Third Status — the Age of Reason now, rather than the Age of the Spirit. For the French philosophes such as Voltaire, Montesquieu and Descartes, reared as they were within the Latin Catholic cultural ‘attractor’ and therefore closer to the psychological roots of the Joachimite program, the viri spirituales that were to supplant the clergy and catalyse the Age of Reason were philosophers. Yet the unconscious ties of these philosophes to their psychoreligious past became clear when Reason ‘herself’ was deified during the French Revolution — as an avatar of that vast, complex and hidden deity that is always the last resort of humanity in psychological crisis – the Great Mother.

Mike Johnson inherited an interesting mix of Joachimite and philosophical/scientific Christianity. He must have heard about the Seven Dispensations in the Bible and seen charts about the 3-7 Biblical Covenants so popular in Protestant churches. They look and feel like variations of Joachim de Fiore’s Three Ages/Status.

What to do with an unsettled age

His law training made Johnson a congenial legal scholar for the law of God, too. In 2002, he left his lawfirm to work with the Alliance Defense Fund, as it was then known. This Christian nonprofit, a conservative answer to the American Civil Liberties Union, has been at the leading edge of litigating high-profile cases contesting protections for abortion, contraception coverage and LGBT rights. His work was energized by miracle. He said, speaking about his father, burned over 80% of his body, “From a young age, I saw that prayer and faith are real, tangible things. I watched God work a miracle and save my father’s life.” That defining experience seems to have provided ongoing motivation to bring about a righteous age.

The rapid changes and troubles in the age of Joachim and Francis are strikingly similar to what Mike Johnson has experienced. Me too. I have a categorically different, Christian response contrary to Johnson’s, but it would be wrong to say I don’t share any of his hope for the age to come or don’t feel an obligation to bring about the fullness of the age of the church.

I am unsettled by the turmoil in the news and even more unsettled when my clients spill it into our sessions. It is tempting to be swept up into the zeitgeist which only needs a match or two to flame into hysterical, apocalyptic reactions similar to other outbursts we can easily see in history. Some of the reactions were astoundingly good, like the Beguine movement of the 13th-16th centuries. Some were horrifying, like Mao Zedong or Pol Pot purging their people to create socialist utopias free of the past. I think the latter kind of movement can be seen in what has been happening in many churches, both left and right leaning, since the pandemic launched the world into hysteria.

When Jesus taught his disciples about the troubles that lay ahead of them and the whole world (Luke 21), he gave them three instructions:

  • Stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.
  • Look at the fig tree and all the trees; as soon as they sprout leaves you can see for yourselves and know that summer is already near.
  • Be alert at all times, praying that you may have the strength to escape all these things that will take place and to stand before the Son of Man.

My response to my turmoil this morning had a bit to do with the words of Jesus.

  • I took a step back and see the big picture: the transhistorical nature of the Lord’s work in the world which is much bigger than I could fully know. And I looked into the eternity spreading out before me, which is wondrous — right now and forever.
  • Even more, I determined to let my anxieties go for a while and sink into the presence of the Holy Spirit, Jesus with me. In that green, leafing space I was reoriented, aware of being healed, and restored to a sense of well-being.
  • I became more awake, shaking off the tiredness that accompanies the constant onslaught of powers too big to control. And I shook off the notion that my time was the most important one and my actions crucial to the world’s survival. I let my trust in God prevail.

I can’t say what happens to you when you pray and meditate, we’re all on our own road, but I became much more ready to love who was in front of me. My wife came back from an early appointment and said, “I am back.” I stopped typing, stood up, embraced her and said, “I love you. Please keep coming back.”

Perhaps Jesus says the same thing, “Please keep coming back.” Please be who you are and do what you can to love what is in front of you, yourself included. That love is always the first step on the road to deeper and farther, especially in times like these.