John 20:19–31
Presented March 23, 2008, by J.D. Kline
Easter Sunday
I’ve always enjoyed working with words, and one of the side benefits of being a pastor is that I get to put together a weekly sermon. Of course, there are times when the discipline of weekly preparation begins to feel burdensome. But far more frequently, I find myself energized by the process, my faith prodded and strengthened.
As I began to think about today’s sermon, the word synchronicity came to mind, the coming together of seemingly chance events. A few years before my wife Janice’s death, at a time when she was struggling to find her own direction, she read a book by Quaker author Parker Palmer entitled Let Your Life Speak in which Palmer writes of learning to pay attention to the messages our own lives carry. Writes Palmer, “Before you tell your life what you intend to do with it, listen for what it intends to do with you. Before you tell your life what truths and values you have decided to live up to, let your life tell you what truths you embody, what values you represent.”
In early December I was planning to go on a five-day prayer and silence retreat, something I do annually, and for whatever reason, Parker Palmer’s book came to mind as a resource that might be helpful. Several times in recent years I had considered reading the book, but this time, it was nowhere to be found—not in my office here at church, and not with my books at home. But about that time the book was donated to our church library, and so I took it along, finding to it be a helpful resource while on retreat.
Palmer writes out of his own struggles, out of his experience with a dark time of depression, and he reminds us that the spiritual journey takes us inward and downward, toward the hard realities of our lives, rather than outward and upward toward the more abstract and intellectual. That is to say, it is as only we walk through our deepest struggles in life, only as we pay attention to the hurts and pains and griefs of our lives, that we are able to break through to something precious, to that which Trappist monk Thomas Merton describes as our “hidden wholeness.”