Doesn’t Change

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It was an emotional Palm Sunday today.  Maybe because it is so beautiful outside–the complete opposite from last year.  Or maybe I’m remembering how i felt oppressed and overcome by darkness last year.  This juxtaposed against the light and warmth I’m experiencing this year is enough to make me weep for joy.

Deacon Tom gave the homily today and talked about the Palm Sunday story.  Jesus was celebrated and later crucified by the same worshipers.  “Jesus didn’t change, they changed.  Jesus hasn’t changed, we’ve changed.”  This is especially resonate when I think of my life these days.  I’m pretty much anxiety free, and somewhat fear free (as much as i feel i can be?), it is easy to love and trust God.  To know His Goodness.  But this time last year?

I questioned completely, I was so angry.  As Dc. Tom referenced, I was in the crowd, I turned my back on Him.  I was so mad at Him and yet still He endured pain, my pain, my brokenness, anger, and sin.  He endured beatings, whippings, crucifixion, betrayal of man and God.   He knows the deepest suffering.  He has been there, but deeper.  Though my angry actions yelled, “Crucify!” his love and grace stayed with me through my own suffering.

I must keep my eyes on Jesus.  He doesn’t change.

Further, I thought about those who have shown Jesus to me, brought, and been Jesus to me.  I think of what hasn’t changed.  The Church, the people who are the Body of Jesus have not changed.  Maybe that’s the argument for why I go to church religiously because it held me when I couldn’t move and was patient with me until I moved again.  I’ve learned a great lesson in what it looks like or feels like or is like to relate to and experience God.  It is so unlike what I thought it was supposed to be like.  As David says, “Open my lips, Oh Lord, that my mouth might declare your praise.” I have certainly been convicted that relating to God often looks kind of passive.  I need Him for absolutely everything.  For opening my mouth.  For getting out of bed.  For growing Faith. Being in His Body fosters this faith. Being a part of something requires something from a person; I stayed commited, however brokenly(?) and very imperfectly, to the Church, and the Body of Jesus brought me out of my own into His where I am more fully me.

For these things I am so thankful, for the Kingdom here on Earth.  Living proof of His faithfulness.

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