Life In Death In Life—Stories, Lyn G. Brakeman, Spiritual Lemons, blog post, 3/26/23

There’s a story in John’s gospel (8:3) about life-choices.The locals complained to Jesus about a woman who was caught in adultery. For this she should be condemned and stoned to death. [NOTE: The Inclusive Bible translation is: “A couple had been caught in the act of adultery, but the accusers only brought the woman.” This contemporary translation completely, and rightly, changes the slant of this story. ]  

Still, according to traditional translations used in most worship settings, we hear about the offender being female. Biblical stories are hefty, whether people take them literally or as symbolic stories. Think of favorite children’s story books. I bet they still tell you something about your personality, your soul, life’s big issues, about sins and graces. 

Sexuality is one such issue in the news daily, although sex is usually private. How did this adulterous woman get caught? You might think that the cunning politicians of Jesus’s day brought this case before him to trap him: Did he know the sin/sex-rules or not? Jesus, no fool, stooped to scribble something in the sand, such as “So where’s the guy?”  We don’t know so we wait. Jesus bought himself time to think before he offered the divine teaching/verdict, which is what these accusers wanted. He then stood to address the crowd: “Let the person among you who is without sin throw the first stone.”  Stoning, then and now in some places, was the prescribed punishment for such a sin.    

Silence fell. 

No stones were hurled.  

“Has no one condemned you?” Jesus asked the woman, who said, “No one, Teacher.” 

 “Neither do I condemn you,” Jesus said, sending her off with a warning not to sin further—not the couple, just the woman, mind you. 

This story speaks volumes about the breadth and depth of divine grace, no matter what our sins. It also speaks volumes about human vulnerability, spiritual naiveté, and ignorance about God’s love under all circumstances. 

Is it a Resurrection story?   

*  *  * *

Jesus went on his way to preach and to heal. Before long he encountered the sisters of his best friend, Lazarus. They were angry because Jesus wasn’t there when Lazarus fell ill and died. To them, Jesus could have prevented the death. A moving scene then played out in which Jesus openly wept over his friend’s death.  

Much has been made of this open expression of emotion. It tells me that we human beings have strong and, even holy, feelings, even when we simultaneously have faith that God’s grace is also always present. Jesus’ tears remind me that Jesus was fully human. Did he weep over Lazarus’s death or because he wasn’t there when the sisters needed him? I don’t know. The story tells us that Jesus went to the tomb of Lazarus and called the dead Lazarus to come forth from the tomb. Lazarus is raised from the dead.

I am far less impressed by this miracle than I am by the tears of Jesus.  

The Lazarus story, however, is a crucial building block in the Christian story. It’s a springboard for theological statements about Resurrection—not as doctrine but as experience as viable as Jesus’ tears. Resurrection stories abound, and all of them create emotional intelligence that is missing in doctrinal interpretations. 

Today, I saw the first Robin redbreast strutting about on the dry un-flowered earth. Resurrection.

Today, I got a message that an old friend had suddenly died. I felt tears well up, then remembered this friend’s robust humor—her regaling clergy at a somber clergy conference with a joke about a poor guy with a highly communicable disease who had to be isolated/quarantined and fed a strict diet of flounder only. Q: Why flounder? A: It’s the only thing flat enough to fit under the door of your room. In itself, this  joke is only mildly worthy of a grin, but when this friend told it, her laughter was robust and contagious. It filled the air with sudden joy as we all fell into peels of laughter. Resurrection.  

Today, I heard from a friend in a nursing home who is a steadfast atheist. She called to tell me that she was no longer an atheist. “I’ve moved to agnostic!” We laughed together. Resurrection. 

If our Constitution were amended to include the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA)?  Resurrection. 

So let’s get out there, each with our own abilities, gifts, and personalities, and let’s resurrect, revivify whoever, wherever, however. 

RESURRECTION IS  NOW. 

2017.04.16 Easter Morning: Choose Life!

Easter Morning
    by William Stafford.

Maybe someone comes to the door and says,
"Repent," and you say, "Come on in," and it's
Jesus. That's when all you ever did, or said,
or even thought, suddenly wakes up again and
sings out, "I'm still here," and you know it's true.
You just shiver alive and are left standing
there suddenly brought to account: saved.

Except, maybe that someone says, "I've got a deal
for you." And you listen because that's how
you're trained––they told you, "Always hear both sides."
So then the slick voice can sell you anything, even
Hell, which is what you're getting by listening.
Well, what should you do? I'd say always go to
the door; yes, but keep the screen locked. Then,
while you hold the Bible in one hand, lean forward
and say carefully, “Jesus?”


A friend of mine, some years ago, opened his door on a Sunday morning to face a young man standing there holding up a Bible and his pointer finger, saying: “Repent!” My friend was suffering the pain of a serious hangover and was horrified. He slammed the door in the man’s face, and then made jokes about it for a few years, most of them mocking this stupid Bible-thumper. In time, my friend did “repent” in the way he needed to. He stopped drinking and joined AA.

The poet who wrote about Easter morning is William Stafford (1914-1993). He was poet laureate of both Oregon and the United States. He wrote relentlessly honest notes, in part gleaned from his own experience as a conscientious objector in WWII. During that war, Stafford worked in Civilian Public Service camps in several states. He wrote and spoke quietly about the sanity of nonviolence and the madness of violence. He did not fight for the sake of his country, as everyone thought was the highest value. He chose not to fight—for the sake of his country.

Personally, I think the choice NOT to fight for the sake of his country was a courageous one. What could happen if everyone in the world chose likewise? Seems like kind of an Easter choice to me.

Who knows how and when, or exactly why, our choices are made? Yet make them we do. In the Book of Deuteronomy the voice of God speaks to the people of Israel, saying: “See, I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Choose life so that you and your descendants may live. . . ” (30:19)  I often remind myself: Choose life!

Every small choice, for better or worse, counts. Here’s one………

The Squirrel
    by Brian Doyle

Here you go. Here’s a moment to ponder carefully.
We think that there are greater and lesser moments
But how immensely and ridiculously wrong this is.
For here is a boy riding along the street in summer.
He is perhaps six years old. His bike is wildly blue.
He sees a smear of squirrel in the street. He pauses,
Using the heels of his sneakers as brakes. He looks,
He dismounts, he sets his kickstand, he looks down.
He kneels and gathers up the shredded creature and
Walks to the shady ravine where we saw the coyote
That time and he gives the squirrel to the tiny creek.
He washes in a muddy puddle and then he rides off.
I am the man who saw and testifieth of these things,
And what I say is true. I saw a boy bow before holy
Things, for all things are holy, and he reminded me,
And so now I remind you. Go thou and do likewise.