“We are dead and our life is hidden with Christ in God.” It is the stuff of fairy tales and fantasy novels – and it’s no wonder that early Christians were treated with suspicion or even hostility. This faith of ours disrupts the natural order in ways I don’t think we usually really notice, allowing such claims to become tame metaphor rather than wild assertions

In order to have a neighbour to love, we must first become neighbours. It’s an identity, not an obligation and certainly not a test… The question we then find ourselves asking is: how do we faithfully express our neighbourliness; how do we live as the neighbours that Jesus calls us to be?

In the kingdom of God, there is no reason for lambs to not be among wolves and this is why the 70 are being sent out – to to reveal the Kingdom of God – to demonstrate its nearness and not just proclaim it. This is about more than what they are about to do – the healing and casting out demons, etc. It is about how they are about to do it – as vulnerable lambs moving fearlessly among wolves.

The presence of Jesus in the Eucharist is given to us again and again and again, drawing us deeper and deeper into the mystery of our union with God – Father, Son, and Holy Spirit – and strengthening us, week by week and piece by piece, for the work to which we are called by re-affirming and re-inforcing that transformation that was first revealed in baptism.

We, as the Church and as individual followers of Jesus, are called to be shaped into the medium to not only communicate but to be God’s message to the world; to reach beyond boundaries of cultural and linguistic and generational differences and become part of the Spirit’s holy work of translation.

In Easter, we turn our attention to our call, as followers of Jesus, to respond to the great need for healing and restoration that we see all around us. How do we go out into the world as agents of God’s transforming, resurrecting love? I don’t have a detailed plan for you but I do know we’ve been given the tools we need, just as the first disciples were.

For this is not a story simply for telling – it is a story for living – and not only in the rituals of this week but – and more importantly – with every breath and every thought and every action of every day, life without end. Amen.

So repent – which is to say, turn again and again to God, who is our patient and attentive gardener. Offer yourself up to be pruned and fed and watered. Reach your roots deep into the fertile soil and your branches high towards the sunlight so that you might bear all the fruit you possibly can for however long your fragile, beautiful life turns out to be.

If we are willing – if we accept the invitation to be sheltered, safe under the open wings of our mother Jesus, something remarkable happens. Our hearts are broken – and we discover that it is in the breaking open that they are healed.