The gospel for yesterday and today combine to cover John 3:1-15, the encounter of Jesus and Nicodemus. In the passage, Jesus says to Nicodemus, “Amen, amen, I say to you, unless one is born anothen, he cannot see the Kingdom of God.” As is characteristic of John’s gospel, it is in the subtly of words that people are offered a choice. Popularly, Bibles translate the passage as “unless one is born again.” And indeed that is an acceptable translation, but not the primary or best if being true to the text. The best translation is “unless one is born from above.” It not only takes the primary meaning of the word anothen, but also ties into the “direction” of the references in the passage: Continue reading
Rebirth and Birth
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My dad once told me that anyone who comes into this world with a blank sheet of paper and a pen has already put themselves at disadvantage. It was his way of saying creativity was truly a gift. Use it if you have it. Otherwise be well read and versed, ready to add other people’s words to your blank sheet of paper. I have already done one post this morning and have another one schedule later, but here are some other words from someone else. 
I mentioned to some folks this week that the rhythm of my life seems to have re-adapted itself to life from my days in the submarine service. While underway, life unfolded in an 18-hour day. Six of the hours were spent on watch/duty operating the nuclear reactor or piloting the boat (submarines are always referred to as “boat”). The other 12 hours were allocated to rest, meals and the on-going work. For my part, I seem to remember 4 hours or so of sleep as the norm. That norm seems to have returned as I seem to routinely get about 4-5 hours a night. The parish business manager just smiles and tells me it is not a reversion to submarine duty, its old age. This is my blog, so you can just ignore his input. 
As a liturgical season, Lent is rather straightforward. It is kinda’ easy to write about. There is Ash Wednesday to dramatically mark its beginning, and we all know we are moving relentlessly towards Easter. We count the days even as we mark Lent’s beginning. The Ashes make a visible mark upon us, reminding us that we are dust and to dust we shall return – but that is not the end of the story. We are reminded to repent and believe in the Gospel – but that is not the end goal. We are encouraged to pray, fast, and give alms – but those practices are meant to make room in our lives for God that we too may rise to the newness of life at Eastertide. 
In Genesis 2 we read the very human descriptions of the role of humankind: “The LORD God then took the man and settled him in the garden of Eden, to cultivate and care for it.” (Gen 2:15) Seems as though our first “vocation” is as gardener. Gen 2:8 specifically calls it a “garden.” And the “chief gardener” could be found here and there in His garden: “the LORD God walking about in the garden at the breezy time of the day.” (Gen 3:8)
Something I received from a parishioner that you have probably already seen, but in case you have not, I pass it along.
“After the Sabbath” (Mt 28:1), the women went to the tomb. This is how the Gospel of this holy Vigil began: with the Sabbath. It is the day of the Easter Triduum that we tend to neglect as we eagerly await the passage from Friday’s cross to Easter Sunday’s Alleluia. This year however, we are experiencing, more than ever, the great silence of Holy Saturday. We can imagine ourselves in the position of the women on that day. They, like us, had before their eyes the drama of suffering, of an unexpected tragedy that happened all too suddenly. They had seen death and it weighed on their hearts. Pain was mixed with fear: would they suffer the same fate as the Master? Then too there was fear about the future and all that would need to be rebuilt. A painful memory, a hope cut short. For them, as for us, it was the darkest hour. 
