Just a brief reminder about Easter.  It is a day, to be sure.  It's the most significant day of the Christian calendar.  That much most of the Church acknowledges and celebrates.  However, Easter is also a season.  It lasts until Pentecost, the birthday of the Church; the day when the Holy Spirit is bestowed on thousands.  Easter sets the agenda for every Christian life.  God is victorious over death once and forever.  The powers and principalities are defeated, even if they do not entirely go away.  Our fears about the past are safe to put away and never again will we be left to our own devices to try to save ourselves.  With that burden lifted from our shoulders, we can faithfully and joyfully look to the present day and every day to come with hope.  The assurance of our salvation has been revealed in Jesus' passion and resurrection.  Now, we can get on with the business of bearing witness to this mighty act of God in every word we speak and deed we accomplish.  Let them all be worthy of your salvation.

Back in November, on the 8th to be precise, I asked the question: Whatever happened to "You're welcomed?"  I note the date so you may return to it if you so desire.  Enough said.  But, now I have another question: Whatever happened to "No comment?"  I watch enough news to have my ears assaulted with every manner of answer to questions that are either leading or asinine.  Which is more disquieting, the questions or the answers?  I'm not prepared to say.  Have our political classes become so enamored with their own voices they must prattle on saying nothing of import?  Do they think we admire their intellect when they weave words together doing their best to avoid answering?  Sometimes I wonder if they have even understood the question, let alone have an answer worthy of the air they consume speaking.  It isn't a shameful thing not to know everything.  I know that from first-hand experience.  Hence, my question: Whatever happened to the simple NO COMMENT?  It's about as all purpose as it gets.  It may be you do not know the answer.  Or you may know and wish not to answer.  Then again, you may just be trying to save time by getting to some other topic.   On the other hand, the answer is none of their business and you may not yet be willing to say, with a straight face, "I BEG your pardon!"  That answer is a perfect conversation stopper as, once you say it, you just stare at the questioner until he or she melts into the floor.  Which is when it's time for you to ask: NEXT question?

We rejoice at Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem.  Children wave palm branches and the people accompany Him through the streets and into the temple to overturn tables and cast out money changers.  For a few days things are less dramatic, but the seething and the plotting and the hating hover very near the surface of life.  By Thursday evening Judas Iscariot will have collected his thirty pieces of silver and Jesus' betrayal will soon occur.  It became the practice of the early Church to greet other Christians with "Shlama!" (Peace be with you.)  However, on Good Friday and Holy Saturday the ancient Syrian Christians and Chaldeans would not say that word.  Why?  Because that was what Judas Iscariot said to betray Jesus in the garden.  Those early Christians did not want to have that greeting on their lips when Jesus lay dead in the tomb.  Instead, they would greet each other with "The Light of the World be with you and your departed ones."  That may sound a bit finicky for the 21st Century Church.  However, those early believers didn't want to be verbally complicit with Judas on those two days.  This 21st Century Christian thanks them for their example and for something to think about as Lent draws to a close and the Light of the World is hidden in death.

Believe me when I tell you I did a bit of desk cleaning yesterday.  To the untrained eye, it might not have looked as if that were true.  But, I assure you it is.  My trash can can testify to it.  In the course of clearing and sorting and filing, I found a slip of paper on which I scribbled a note about evil.  The rabbis have asked this question for centuries:  Is evil only a choice?  Or is it a wound to our character?  That is a profoundly striking question.  It plumbs the depths of our understanding of who we are.  It is a question for all of us to ponder, whether we agree on an answer or not.  The scriptures remind us of this truth: "...for all sinned and fall short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23)  Some don't want to hear this, but it's true.  That sounds like sin is something we do.  Sin being choice makes sense.  The second part of that question, about sin being a wound to our character, may be an after effect or consequence of our sinning.  Our wounded nature is obvious.  We have a savior who comes from God to remedy that nature.  "But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that made us whole, and with his stripes we are healed." (Isaiah 53:5)  In the closing days of Lent we can faithfully confess our fallen nature caused by the evil of our sin and we can rejoice that the wound we bear will be healed by the Christ who bears it in His own body.  This is a good thing to remember as Holy Week will soon be upon us and we await God to keep all the promises of old.