Psalm 49:7–8
None of them can by any means redeem his brother,
Nor give to God a ransom for him—
For the redemption of their souls is costly,
And it shall cease forever—
Jesus came in the form of a servant. He humbled Himself and came to do the work of His Father. He suffered, died and rose again in fulfillment of the promises given in the Old Testament that we could live in the newness of His Covenant of peace on earth and goodwill towards mankind. He is our example of how we are to live. We are the humble servants of our Triune God and in Him we abide. Only God can do what is impossible for us. But in Him nothing is impossible. Carla
Matthew 16:24-26
24 Then Jesus said to His disciples, “If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. 25 For whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it. 26 For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul? NKJV
Jesus revisits His earlier remarks about taking up one’s cross (10:38–39). If His opponents kill Him, His disciples can reasonably expect a similar fate. Although they will receive positions of honor, discipleship will be costly.
Faithlife Study Bible
Matthew 10:38–39
And he who does not take his cross and follow after Me is not worthy of Me. He who finds his life will lose it, and he who loses his life for My sake will find it.
Luke 14:27
And whoever does not bear his cross and come after Me cannot be My disciple.
James 12:25
He who loves his life will lose it, and he who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life.
Luke 12:20–21
But God said to him, ‘Fool! This night your soul will be required of you; then whose will those things be which you have provided?’“So is he who lays up treasure for himself, and is not rich toward God.”
We all experience pain—personal, relational, or exhaustion from the weight of the affairs of the world. And it appears on the doorstep of our heart in a variety of ways. This I know: when our life (and yes, our world) takes a left turn—or we find ourselves emotionally overdrawn (literally heart-weary)—we, for whatever reason, continue to feel small. But in the end—sadly to our detriment—we try to run away, or we shut down, because we see our pain, and our brokenness, as blemishes. In other words, something we must hide, because it triggers shame.
But this I know to be true: Whether it is conflict or sorrow or grief or anxiety or self-pity, I cannot bury pain without mortgaging something else to keep it hidden. In the end, I live life “shunting back and forth between my pain and my defenses.” (Merle Shain)
Or, as Richard Rohr reminds us, “If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it.”
(And it doesn’t help if we see pain—brokenness and vulnerability—only as an enemy, or source of shame.)
An old Cherokee is teaching his grandson about life. “A fight is going on inside me,” he tells the boy. “It is a relentless fight that takes a toll, and it is between two wolves. One wolf is evil – he is rage, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.”
He continues, “The other wolf is good – he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. And this same fight is going on inside you – and inside every other person, too.”
The grandson thinks about what his grandfather tells him for a minute, and then asks, “Which wolf will win?”
The old Cherokee replies, “The one you feed the most.”
Today, I choose to feed the good (life-giving) wolf.
I liked this, from Rabbi Dr. Ariel Burger, “My mantra this year has been the Hebrew words, Lev Basar, which means ‘a heart of flesh,’ from the biblical verse, ‘I will take from you a heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.’
Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, ‘There's nothing as whole as a broken heart.’
In these traditions, you cultivate a broken heart which is very different from depression or sadness. It's the kind of vulnerability, openness, and acute sensitivity to your own suffering and the suffering of others that becomes an opportunity for connection.”
My friends, we are not on this journey alone.
And I can tell you that this past week, I’ve watched the ways we all carry pain, in a week where the news—the blasphemy of our President posting an image of himself as Jesus Christ, and then going after Pope Leo—can leave us feeling helpless, fearful, appalled, or enraged. Or, just dizzy.
Speaking of what we feed, it really did my heart good to watch Pope Leo’s charitable and courageous response to the comments. “Charitable because he has not responded in any way other than with charity and respect. He speaks about our obligations to one another. He has called us to follow the Gospel, which has always been radical, and never more so than right now. It’s radical because it asks us to love not just our friends, our family, and our tribe, but the stranger.” (Thank you Maria Shriver)
We have a choice. We can embrace our humanness, which means embracing our broken natures and the compassion that remains our best hope for healing. Or we can deny our brokenness, forswear compassion, and, as a result, deny our own humanity… But simply punishing the broken—walking away from them or hiding them from sight—only ensures that they remain broken and we do, too. There is no wholeness outside of our reciprocal humanity… Embracing our brokenness creates a need for mercy.”
So. Back to our current news; mercy, and kindness, and humanity matter. Excerpt from “Sabbath Moments”