We need a break for a moment, don’t we? Come out to the edge of my island for a moment, to those two eagle eggs in a perfect  nummular nest on a cliff over the sea.  

One of the eggs hatched about 10 days ago. Here she is in all her one week ugly-baby splendor:

And now, she is two weeks old, already bigger, slightly less chick-fluffly. And clearly comfortable in her out-of-the-shell life.

Though she also, in her short life, seems to feel a bit fatigued, All this growing, all this eating. She’ll take a rest however she can.

But there is still further mystery here. Look closely in the nest.

One more eaglet to come. I can hardly wait, remembering other years, other siblings whose tiny beings brought life and joy. They remind me constantly of the love of the Father for his creatures.

But none of us have felt light and joyous this week.

So much has been said on every side of the issue, I wondered—-do I have anything to add to this necessary conversation?

I do. I need to say something about that Bible that was held aloft in St. John’s Church this week. That book that was intended to settle everything. That was intended even as a symbol of strength and victory. But the Bible is not a symbol of power. It is not an escape hatch. It’s not a book that makes our lives easier. It’s a book that terrifies, if we read it right.

Jesus said his yoke was light, but it’s heavy too. The gospel is good news, but it’s teachings did not simplify the lives of his first followers—-or ours either. If we are listening well, it rends us first. It shatters us. It crushes us. This new life with the Holy Spirit within pummels my heart as much as soothes it. He adjures us to love the unloved, to clothe the unclothed, to pray for those who persecute us. I am constantly rocked from self- sufficiency and determined ignorance into longing for others’ freedom and healing. My heart keeps breaking. When Bible-soaked, does this not happen to you as well?

        Here is the scary paradox of the gospel: it brings peace and fellowship with God himself, but it doesn’t allow us to be satisfied with our own good fortune. It awakens us to the world and its afflictions, and our own afflictions multiply because of it. For the disciples as well. Suddenly these twelve men awakened from their cultural slumber to feel great concern for women, for lepers, for prostitutes, for foreigners, for children, for widows. Whole populations were suddenly swept from comfortable invisibility into their path: sometimes at their very feet. People who needed to be healed. To be loved. To be seen. To be valued. To be heard. To be empowered. To be set free.

And they were.

The terrifying truth is that every human being is made in the image of God. And we often don’t see it or live it.

But I don’t have to remain terrified. Even in my failures, and even in our national failures, God is ready always to restore the repentant, the humble, the broken-hearted. He even promises that if we put our hope in Him (not in ourselves) our strength will be so restored we’ll rise like——-yes

The way Down is always the way up. When we fall first before the terrifying and freeing truths of the Bible,

we will rise, all of us, with new hearts, not to dominate one another. Not to ignore or deny. But to finally see aright. To love.

Thank you for being here, friends. I hope we can speak to one another on this issue with grace.

with love,

Leslie