Jerusalem Tears

Jerusalem Tears (Luke 19:41)

    The end was near.  His death lay before him.  His final pilgrimage is at its end.  Jerusalem comes into sight, and Jesus weeps for her.  This snapshot of Jesus’ humanity is heartrending, raw with emotion.  His life’s mission, his passion to save, is crushing down upon him.  He who is Eternal is out of time.  He who is All-Powerful, is helpless in the face of rejection.  All that he had done within her walls -all the miracles, the healings, the outpouring of love –was to no avail.  Jerusalem remains deaf to his call, closed to the Word he bears.

    After failing to defeat Jesus, in the desert, at the beginning of his ministry, Satan promised to return.  Surely this moment was ripe with invitation.  Could Satan resist whispering vile temptations into Jesus’ breaking heart?  Would not this be the opportune time to demand Justice be served, to call down lightning upon Jerusalem, to shake the dust from his sandals and offer his Love to a more deserving people? Why should he die for this Unfaithful Bride who spurns his Love?  Would not this be time to test the Son of Man, to convince him, that his identity is not Son of God, but of a Failed Prophet?  Surely, you have sacrificed enough, why cast your pearls to the swine?  Jesus, Man above all men, you deserve better, you have done enough!

    But the Devil’s ploy is lost to the wind.  Jesus only listens to the Voice of his Father, and that Voice is calling him to do even more, to enter Jerusalem and mount the Cross that lies waiting.  Jesus wiped the tears from his beard, stood erect, breathed in the Spirit of his Father surrounding him, and continued on, to finish what had begun long ago, when the First Man of men bit into that forbidden fruit.   Satan withdraws, still confident in his plan of Death, unaware of the Defeat looming at Calvary.

Oh praise the Cross of Christ,

The Blood, that flowed complete.

Salvation has it won,

Bowing Satan to its feet.

Zacchaeus Joy

Zacchaeus Joy (Luke 19:1-10)

    As a tax collector, Zacchaeus was loathed and despised by his fellow Israelites.  Viewed as a traitor, he was employed by the occupying Romans to extract taxes from his own people.  Tax collectors were not paid a set wage, instead, they were allowed to keep whatever they could extract above and beyond what Rome demanded.  He was a wealthy tax collector, so clearly, he was gifted at his extortion.

    Zacchaeus could not have been a man with a conscience.  His success depended on not caring about the consequence of his actions.  Whether a father would default on a debt and be sent to prison, or a widow denied her last meal, his only concern was to collect the money.  He was a Wound in Humanity.

    Successful and at the top of his game, Zacchaeus was drawn to the “Rock Star” status of this Jesus that was coming to town.  He climbed that sycamore tree because he was curious.  He wanted to see what this Jesus looked like.  He did not want to miss out on the entertainment.

    When Jesus stopped beneath him and looked up, it was not Zacchaeus who first spoke.  It was Jesus who sought him out, who was calling his name.  This was a Miraculous Moment of Mercy.  In the time it took Jesus to call Zacchaeus down from that tree, the entire world of Zacchaeus The Tax Collector was fundamentally transformed.

In this Miraculous Moment of Mercy, Jesus heals a lifetime of sin.  When the eyes of Jesus found the eyes of Zacchaeus, an Eternal Love was unleashed, an unfathomable forgiveness was communicated, a soul without a conscience was made whole.  Zacchaeus climbed down that tree filled with Joy.

With this Joy, he welcomes Jesus into his home, gives half of all he possesses to the poor, and vows to repay fourfold, all he has extorted.  His tax collector colleagues in the crowd would have been dumbfounded.  Their sense of reality would have experienced a head-on collision with Love and Mercy.

I as well, grapple with what happened in that tree.  Like Zacchaeus, Jesus found me caught up in a life of sin.  And like Zacchaeus, after encountering Jesus, I invited him into my life.  But unlike Zacchaeus, my life, my values and priorities changed slowly, and only after I had repented of my ways.  

That Zacchaeus’ life transformation was instantaneous and preceded repentance, can only be miraculous.  My life transformation has been incremental and charts along the same time-line as the letting go of things incongruent with Christ’s love.  This may appear more logical, but it is in no way, less miraculous.  Both Zacchaeus and I, did not first love God.  God first loved us.  -“For the Son of Man has come to seek out and save what was lost.”

Lord, I am forever grateful that you did not give up on your dream for me.  Thank you for seeking me out, for saving me from my sins.  Thank you for your gentle patience, mercy, and unconditional love.  May the Joy of you finding me be ever new.

Lost Sheep

Lost Sheep (Luke 15:1)

    “The Tax Collectors and sinners were all drawing near to listen to Jesus, but the Pharisees and scribes were complaining…”  The Pharisees and scribes thought they deserved the attention of Jesus, not the sinners whom they detested.  So Jesus tells them the story of the Lost Sheep.  They thought the parable was about the Tax Collectors and sinners, but in fact, they were the ones who were lost.

    The Tax Collectors and sinners were not a holy lot, but neither were they lost, for they were drawing near to Jesus to listen to him.  They encountered the love of Jesus and were on the way to New Life.  Conversely, the Pharisees and Tax Collectors were driven away, deprived of God’s tender care.  Driven by fear of the Punishing Judge, they were exiled from love.  In detesting sinners, they embraced Sin.  Hopelessly lost, they were unable to recognize their self-righteousness.

    Blinded by condemnation, they were indignant that Jesus would welcome the company of sinners.  Their hardened hearts hid them from the Mercy of their God.  For this reason, Jesus paints for them the parable of the Good Shepherd seeking the lost sheep.  How else could his Mercy penetrate their hearts?  They must first come to believe that their Punishing Judge is in truth, a Kind and Merciful God.

    So it is, that the Good Shepherd is compelled to search for his wayward sheep, and when he finds it, he does not put a rope around its neck and drag it back to the fold.  Rather, he picks it up and carries it around his neck.  Now, sheep are not these cute and cuddly creatures we see on TV.  They are dumb.  They stink.  And they are nasty dirty, as manure and dirt are forever matted into their wool.  Yet, Jesus presents the Good Shepherd as oblivious to the filth, as he joyfully returns, carrying the sheep on his shoulders.

    St. Luke leaves us hanging as to how the Pharisees and scribes responded to Jesus’ parable.  Did a light go on?  Did they receive God’s Mercy?  Or was it too late?  Were they so hardened, that defending their pride took precedence over defending their souls?

    All the characters in this Gospel passage were in need of redemption.  But it was those, most successful in their religious appearance, that were in the darkest and most dangerous plight.  The Tax Collectors and sinners knew their lives were unholy.  They merely needed to repent and be saved.  The Pharisees and scribes either knew they were unrighteous and pretended to be holy, or they were deceived by their religiosity, and actually believed it to be so. In the end, they found themselves spurning the Mercy of God.

    Lord, where do I play in this parable?  I do relate to the Pharisee who prayed, “I thank you God that I am not like this sinner.”  I still feel disdain toward those who fail to meet my criteria for decency.  Your Blood has covered me in righteousness, yet I cling to a self-righteousness that is unbecoming of a child in your fold.  Selfishness and Pride are still familiar Voices.  The wool you have washed white in your blood is so easily soiled.  In my stupidity, I wander from your protective presence.  I tell myself half-truths so I can do things you would have me not do.  And I am sad to admit Lord,  there are parts of my heart, from which mercy does not yet flow, where doors are yet tight closed to your Light.

    Father, I am in desperate need of your Good Shepherd.  Fill me anew today with the in pouring of your Holy Spirit promised.  Holy Spirit, do with me what I cannot do.  Purify my mind, heart and soul.  Open my heart to the Truth of your way.  Jesus, may your Death reign in me, that I may live for you, that I may never wander from your Love.

Come To Me My Bride

Come To Me My Bride (John 6:37)

    “All the Father has given me will come to me, and whoever comes to me I shall not turn him away;”  We are the Children of God, as such, we belong to him.  Because we are so cherished, God our Father, gives us to his Son –as a father gives away the Bride, so we are given to Jesus.  We have been created to encounter the Heart of Hearts, the Source of All Love.  We have been infused with an Incomprehensible Grace –an insatiable deprivation, to hunger and thirst for fulfillment, for Truth, for the consummation of Eucharistic Union, to know the intimacy of our Beloved Spouse.

    “All that the Father has given will come to me…”  When the Father lifts the bridal veil, our eyes behold an Un-graspable Beauty that yet grasps us.  In this Sacred Embrace of eyes, the Spirit of our Spouse invades our Soul, a power that drives us to abandon our Old Name, and take on the identity of our Lord.  This Power impels us, to leap into the Darkness Of Faith, to trust in a Hand we cannot see, to surrender to a Love that is await to consume us.  This is the Spirit that is calling, enabling and transforming us now.  It is a Grace we cannot see until we look back onto the Darkness from which we have come.

    “…and whoever comes to me I shall not turn away;”  The moment we utter “I do!”, the Covenant is Eternal, unfazed by our unfaithfulness, forgetting of our failures, only ever wooing us deeper into the abyss of his embrace.  We are given, by our Father to Jesus, as a Gift, made attractive and pleasing with the White Garment of Faith.  Not only can he not turn us away, but he can only desire what his Father has made so Beautiful, so filled with his Spirit, so becoming in his Likeness.

    Lord Jesus, your Word is so clear in this morning’s light.  It is all about you.  I am redeemed by your Mercy, made Beautiful by your Love -by your Body and Blood.  Nourish me anew today.  Raise me up Lord.  Wash me afresh with your Holy Spirit.  Gladden my heart with the Hope of serving our Father, all the days of my life, with you at my side.

Garden Prayer

Garden Prayer

    Good morning Lord.  How awesome to find you waiting for me, to walk with you in your garden.  I struggle to believe you long for one as me, yet we walk, with your shoulder touching mine.  You make me feel like I am the center of your attention, that you delight in my presence.  Yet, in all our walks, it is I who has need to leave.

    Always, as I approach your garden, I fret over what to say, or if I will find the words to converse.  And always as we walk, I learn anew, that silence is just another way for you to speak to my heart, where my words are as noise, hiding your Voice.

    All that you require of me is that I come as I am.  The less I do to make myself “presentable”, the more pleased you are.  To portray myself in truth, is to pay you the highest praise, for you are Truth.  You call me Friend, but you are so much more.

    I am embarrassed Lord, to admit that still I am tempted to cut short our walks, or even to miss them altogether.  I am a Fool, who in the presence of my God, is distracted by bubbles, where the temporal appears more desirous than the Eternal.  And sometimes Lord, I come out of obligation, fearing you would think less of me if I did not show up.

    None of this seems to matter to you, for always, you are delighted to see me.  You receive me, who has sinned against you, as if I am a precious gift, even though you are Creator and I am creature.

    Lord Jesus, you paid a price for me that I am not worth.  You exchanged your Blood for my friendship, grafting me into your Family, giving me the Name of your Father, and sealing my identity with the Living Water of your Holy Spirit.  I tremble to give my eyes to yours in thanksgiving.

    Teach me, Lord, to love as you love me.  Prune me, cultivate me, as a plant in your garden, until I become a garden for you, where always, you are with me, and I am with you.  Make my life a prayer, walking with our shoulders touching.

Mustard Seed Faith

Mustard Seed Faith (Mt 17:20)

Faith is both Gift and Response.  It is impetus and action.  It is the Finger Of God touching our soul; and it is a wholly unique expression of self, which reflects our will and determines our destiny.  It is the Mustard Seed, planted into our soul, not of our nature or order, yet designed to be inextricably intertwined and absorbed.  So much so that, if allowed and fiercely chosen, it transforms our fallen nature into its Divine Likeness.

This Mustard Seed is pure gift.  It is of God.  It contains Life apart of our own, yet it is destined to become our fully actualized potential.  It is a life present, and a life yet to be.  It is God’s loving design for us before we existed.  It is our call to Glory, Truth and Love in the present now.  And, it is a spiritual DNA (Divinity Naturally Acting) yet to be fully expressed.  Like natural DNA in all seeds of life, it is predestined, designed to progressively unfold into increasingly complex structure, until maturing, it accomplishes its design and reproduces.  Its purpose is solely Life oriented, Life with its Creator.

Both the natural seed and our seed of faith are predestined to accomplish God’s design, but how they come to fullness are not alike.  The natural seed only requires nourishment -it is predetermined.  Our gift of faith demands a Lover’s Choice.  It is present-determined, forever demanding existential choices of our will.

As Pure Gift, faith ever nudges us to grow towards The Light.  But for it to grow at all, it demands to be freely chosen, as the love relationship that it is with God.  Since it is present-determined, like love, it must forever be re-chosen in the fertile ground of suffering, doubt, failure, temptation and putting self at the service of others.  This re-choosing is what gives faith the permission to grow.  It is only in dying that we find Life.

This is the mystery of the Mustard Seed, that our faith does not grow by our own power, but by the power of God’s Grace, yet whether it grows at all depends on our choice to die, but if we do so choose, then what begins, takes on the unstoppable power of God.

We do not know how or when the seed of faith will grow, or even what fruit it will bear.  But by choosing to act according to our gift of faith, we can with certainty, as if by command, initiate the Power of God Within to transform our life.  Even though we cannot control how or when the Finger Of God moves in our lives, we are none the less co-responsible, by faithful decisions, for the manifestation of God’s Power, which is beyond what we can ask or imagine, let alone do.  It is the Mystery of the Mustard Seed of Faith throwing the mountain into the sea.

Lord Jesus Christ, I believe, that you are the Son of God, that in faith you have clothed me in your righteousness and have brought me into the sonship of your Father, that what you have promised can only be true.  I raise now the sails of my soul.  Fill them with the Power of your Holy Spirit.  Take me where you want me to go.  Do with me according to my Father’s design.  I cannot see what lies ahead, but with your hand upon my rudder, I know it can only be good.  Make it so, my Master.  Make it so. 

From The Depths

From The Depths (Psalm 130)

“From the depths I call to you, Yahweh, Lord,

        listen to my cry for help!

Listen compassionately to my pleading!

If you never overlooked our sins,

        Yahweh, Lord, could anyone survive?

But you do forgive us: and for that we revere you.

I wait for Yahweh, my soul waits for him,

         I rely on his promise,

                my soul relies on the Lord

                        more than a watchman on the coming of dawn.

…For it is with Yahweh that mercy is to be found…”

         Lord, my soul as become familiar with the Depths.  Your Glory, so bright, is shadowed. Sin has darkened your Light.  Burdens of this life loom large.  I am weak.  Youth’s arrogance is a distant illusion.

        

         Only say the Word and my soul shall be healed.  …Yet you allow me to know the freedom of brokenness.  …Yet am I driven to hope.  …Yet must I still seek your Saving Hand.

        

         What mystery is this Life with you.   Invisible is This Hand that sustains me so.  Unquestionable is your Promise.  Unfathomable this Well Of Faith, this Source of Hope.

          

        You empty what you desire to fill.  You break what you desire to heal.  You humble what you desire to raise.  So it is Lord, that I know now the Watchman’s need.  The Night forbid his eyes to see.  Try as he might it, in vain could he see without your Light.

         I know now, that Watchman’s need was comforted.  For your Mercy goes first, to those in the darkest of night.  Only in clinging to your Faithfulness, can I see the Dawn that is yet to be.

Daddy, Daddy (Lk 11:9)

Daddy, Daddy  (Lk 11:9)

    “So I say to you: Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you.  For the one who asks always receives; the one who seeks always finds; the one who knocks will always have the door opened to him.”

    This is a most extraordinary promise of Jesus, so much so, that I am tempted to label it as another of his exaggerations, like “plucking out my eye”.  But the context, where this promise is nestled in the Words of God, does not allow this option.  It can only be understood in its context -in the lavish love, of a doting Father, upon a child in need.

    This promise is preceded by the disciples asking Jesus to teach them how to pray.  First, Jesus gives them the words of the “Our Father”, the universal outline for prayer: with its call to praise the Name-Above-All-Names; to desire God’s plan for our lives; to present our needs as a sinner in need of forgiving others; all while beseeching the Father’s protection from the evil surrounding us.

Jesus then presents his Father as a friend who we can approach with unflinching confidence, even as one who we could drag out of a warm bed in the middle of the night, waking up his sleeping kids with the ruckus of unbolting a triple locked door, all to procure a minor need that could have waited till morning.

With the stage set in this lavish love of his Father, Jesus now reveals the sacred formula for prayer which promises a response from God: that when we ask Abba, Daddy, when we present our needs into His Loving Ear, we will always receive; that when we seek, when we look for His Hidden Face, we will always find; and when we knock, when we tug on our Father’s garment with expectant eyes, we will always have the door opened to us.

This Promise-Made is the Word of God already spoken.  It cannot be taken back.  It is now Eternal Truth.  It is forever for God to make it so, and it is forever for us to say, “Amen!  Make it so!”  As a child of God, I have found the freedom of being real before Him, and so this morning as I pondered this Scripture, I put it to question.  I believe that if I ask, I will receive, but I do not always receive; I believe that if I seek, I will find, but I do not always find; and I believe if I knock, doors will open, but again, they do not always.  

“So Lord, what’s up with the “always” part of your promise?”  I never fully grasp the power of God’s Word.  When my understanding of it does not correspond to my experience, I have long learned, that it is not God’s Word that is being challenged, but my finite experience.  I make a note of it, reflect on it, then read on, hoping the context will point me out of the shadows.  Often it does.  Sometimes, I just have to live longer and come back to it.

But today, the context that followed was illuminating.  Jesus compares His Father’s response to our prayers, to that of our response to our children’s need for food.  And since God’s love infinitely exceeds ours, so does God’s response to our prayer, exceed our expectation:  “If you then, who are evil, know how to give your children what is good, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!'”  

What I have come to understand of this wonderful promise, that when I Ask, Seek and Knock, God’s Holy Spirit is ALWAYS operative.  When I bring my unmet needs, my brokenness, my darkness, my hopes before my Daddy, He is pouring out His Spirit upon me before I get to ask -as He sees me coming, for He is always waiting to respond.  When I am asking, seeking and knocking, it is not my prayer life -it is my life.  It is only secondarily a means to my wants.  It is primarily, a means to my end.

The Image Of God

The Image Of God

“God created man in the image of himself, in the image of God he created him…” (Genesis 1:27).

Before Sin, we had Original Joy.  We knew the Face Of God, his smile, the crinkles around his eyes.  We recognized his voice and delighted in the sound of our name on his lips.  God was present to us.  His Presence made the cool of the morning, the warmth of the day, and the quiet of the night, all indistinguishably glorious.  Our existence was defined by our relationship with our Creator.  His friendship gave meaning to every moment, to everything.  Everywhere, every experience evoked thanksgiving to our God.

Sin changed all this.  Sin stole our intimacy with God.  Satan slithered onto the Tree Of Life, disguising Evil as Good, Death as Life.  Seducing us with self glory, he took our gaze off of God.  The Forbidden Fruit became the apple of our eye.  We bit into it.  We tasted the bitterness of banishment –we found loneliness.

After Sin, after losing our friendship with God, our existence was defined by want, by suffering, separation, selfishness and fear.  Defaced by Sin, our Divine Image was now disfigured.  Our eyes were blinded to his Presence.  Unable to see his Face, or be comforted by his Voice, we filled our Emptiness with rotten fruit, with Disobedience, with Sickness and Death.  Blessedness was discarded for Curse.  Friendship with our Father was exchanged for the Fetters of Sin.

Never again, would the Tree’s Forbidden Fruit be experienced with such horrible clarity, with such terrible loneliness, until the Spurned-God-Who-Became-Man, would take on Sin and surrender into Death, on that Tree Of Life, replanted in His Blood on the altar of Calvary.

We were abandoned to Sin, but not to God’s Mercy, for he left us a Promise.  He veiled our Sickness and Death with a prophecy of Hope, that one day, the Offspring of a New Eve, would crush the head of Satan.  Oh, the power of that Tree!

Now freed from that lecherous grip of the Serpent, we are free to find again our true face.  Our Divine Image has been restored.  This Savior has wrapped us in his Father’s cloak.  He has re-given us the Father’s ring, the very one we threw away.  He has washed our dirty feet, and has given us new shoes to dance.  He has prepared for us a feast, with Bread and Wine that eternally removes hunger and thirst.  He has become this Bread of Life, which we not only consume, but which, in turns consumes our guilt; which we not only possess, but which possesses us, which not only nourishes our body and soul, but resurrects our sin-sick nature into New Life, where we are Born Again into immortality.  

          Because our Savior lives, because he has poured his Holy Spirit into our hearts, our eyes are opened anew to see the Face Of God, to walk again in his Presence, to hear the sound of our name on his lips, to know that we Belong to the Face that is smiling upon us.  And, for those how dare, who allow in their spirit, to be drawn into his Gaze, if we look deeply into the eyes of our Father, if we peer  into his very pupil, we will see  reflected, our Divine Image, the one he calls “Beloved Child” -the Apple Of His Eye.

The Woman Of Ill Repute

The Woman Of Ill Repute (Luke 7:36)

   

Simon, a devout Pharisee, invited Jesus to dinner, only to have it crashed by a woman with a bad reputation.  She enters, throws herself to the feet of Jesus, sobbing uncontrollably, bathing His dirty feet with her tears, and drying them with her hair.  Then, while covering them with kisses, she anoints them with perfume.  

Incredulously, Jesus is not looking at the woman.  His attention is on the hidden thoughts of Simon, who is in far greater need of a doctor.  For the woman, as Jesus soon points out, was demonstrating profuse love, springing from a grateful heart emboldened by faith, by a certainty, that her many sins would be forgiven at the feet of Jesus.  

         

          And so Jesus, not taking His eyes off Simon, gently exposes Simon’s shallow love.  As love is the fruit of faith, Jesus reveals Simon’s Achilles heel -that he does not believe in the Mercy Of God.  Fearing an Unforgiving God, Simon is blinded to his own sinfulness; he can only see the sins of others.

Undeterred by blindness, Jesus releases Simon into the freedom of Truth -that only those who have been forgiven much can love much.

Later, Jesus sets another Simon free.  Again, with his Heart Piercing questions, he asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these others? ...Do you love me? ...Do you love me?”  Simon Peter, looking into the Face of Love, did not just see the eyes of Jesus.  Like a rushing train disappearing into a tunnel, he was drawn into the Eternal Presence, the very Heart Of Mercy.  There, his cry was absorbed into Unity, as he professed, “Yes Lord, you know that I love you!”

Peter proclaimed with absolute certainty, with a redeemed faith, that He loved his Master more than the others, because he, who three times denied his Savior and Friend, had been forgiven most.

  

        Lost In His Wounds

Oh, my contrite Soul,

How is it I am free to bring my Sins to our Savior?

What grace Abounds!

What power the Cross!

Come, let us find Release!

         Let us Run into his Outstretched Arms.

                  Let us Fragrant him with our Tears and Kisses,

                         For my many Sins are Lost in His Wounds!

Take Up Your Oar And Follow Me

Take Up Your Oar And Follow Me

    Once upon a time, there was an old holy man, who lived in the high mountain country.  He poured out his life ministering to the native people.  He had become a legend among them.  He spent the long winters making treks to the valley below, securing medical supplies and gifts for the children.  Everything had to be carried up on his back.  In the spring, when the rivers melted, and with his precious supplies bound to his raft, he was buoyed up upon the dangerous waters, with the anticipation of the gifts he bore, and the Good News he had to share.

    The old man had become too frail to continue the grueling trips.  While he was awaiting the arrival of the young recruit to carry-on his life's work, he decided to make one last trip to say farewell to his beloved flock.  As soon as he set out, the rapids overwhelmed his raft, smashing his oar against a rock, and jamming his raft against the shore.  Undaunted, he tied-off his raft, and hiked back to his cabin.

    When he arrived, he found the young recruit waiting to report for duty.  The young man said, “I want to be like you, I want serve the Lord.”  “You may begin then, said the old man, by returning to the valley below, and bring back an oar, that I might finish my last trip.  I know you must be exhausted from your long week’s climb, so eat and sleep well tonight, and leave at first light.  Before you leave, it would do you well to read verse one of the second chapter of Sirach, to encourage your journey.”  The young man said, “I want to serve the Lord.  I shall return with your oar.”  But in his eagerness to be on his way, he forgot to read the Scripture.

    Going down the mountain proved every bit as difficult as the ascent.  He slipped and fell many times, and with each bruise and scrape, he said, “I want to serve the Lord!”  When he finally reached the city, he immediately purchased an oar, a week’s supply of food, and then set off with his face set to climb the mountain.  Dragging that oar made the journey harder and longer than he had planned.  With yet another day and a half to go, he found himself without food.  That night, he went to sleep hungry, telling himself, “I want to serve the Lord!”

    As morning broke, he was awakened by a ferocious roar.  He opened his eyes to an angry bear, rearing up on its hind legs.  The young man grabbed his oar, and began beating the bear with all his might, and with all the might of his guardian angel as well.  As the bear turned to flee, the final whack on its back broke the oar in half.

    The tears in the young man’s eyes told the old man everything he needed to know.  He held the young man in his arms.  “I am so proud of you, he said.  And it grieves me to tell you, that my life is at its end.  I have only a short time to say goodbye to my people.  I must ask you to go quickly and bring me another oar.”  The young man said, “I want to serve the Lord!”  He gathered up his supplies and set off down the mountain.

    Three weeks went by, and the young man returned with a jubilant smile.  He shouted, “See, I have brought you two oars, one extra, in case of bears!”  The old man hugged him in a long silence, kissed both cheeks, and said, “You are a faithful servant.”  Then, tucking both oars under his arm, he turned, and waded into the river to shove off his raft.  But the old man suddenly stood up straight, clenched his heart with both hands, and slumped to his knees.

    The young man jumped into the water and held the old man in his arms, as they watched the oars float away in the rapids.  The young man tried to smile as he cried softly to the old man, “It’s ok, I can get you some more oars.”  The old man looked up to the sky, then closed his eyes, and sighed with a half smile -the kind one would have as one lays his head into his pillow after a l hard day’s work.  Then he whispered, “I don’t need them now, I have these two angels instead.”

    The sun was setting when he buried the old man in the garden.  The young man sat down on the porch to ponder all that had happened.  The day’s last light shone upon the old man’s tattered bible.  It had a faded picture bookmarking the worn pages.  He opened to it, and held the picture toward the sun.  It was of the young old man, standing proudly on a brand new raft, leaning on an oar.

    The young man looked at the bible.  It was opened to the second chapter of Sirach, its pages coffee stained.  The first verse was underlined.  He read it aloud to himself, “My son, if you desire to serve the Lord, prepare yourself for an oar-deal.