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Showing posts from February, 2015

me, Mike Huckabee, and Christ's descent from the cross

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As I meditated yesterday on the presence of God, I returned to the image of Christ's descent from the cross, after he died, as he was prepared for a quick burial. I placed myself in the scene. I wanted to clean his wounds. I kept splashing the vinegar on my hands and rubbing my fingers over his chest and over his cuts. His gashes from the whipping were deep. I know it's gross, but my fingers kept bouncing in and out of his flayed flesh.

While I washed his body, I wondered who else was with me, preparing him in adoration. I knew Mary was around, but I didn't see her. As I looked down his body, toward his legs I saw Mike Huckabee. I was as surprised as you are. He and I are only united in our relationship with Jesus. Mike and I are very different in our political ideology, and we do not agree on many areas as to how Christ's ethics should be applied civically. In my meditation, we also disagreed on how to get the body ready for burial.

Mike was in a rush. He wanted to hu…

Descent from the cross

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Last night I was meditating on the presence of God, practicing something new to me, the Daily Examen, started 500 years ago by the Catholic saint, Ignatius Loyola. It is prayer and meditation combined. The first step in this prayer is to become aware of the presence of God.

Rembrandt

I am really not aware of God's presence.This is a challenge for me. I started thinking about Christ on the cross. I then thought about taking his body down off the cross. My hands carried his dead and bloody body down off the instrument of death. I hugged his lifeless body to mine. I laid him down across my bed. And there he laid, in front me, as I sat on my bed.

Jouvenet

It is a powerful image for me. I have never thought about this before.

I did not know until later that night what a rich vein artists have found with this part of Good Friday. Here is a collection of many works.

In my meditation, Jesus laid before me, much bloodier than anything by these art masters. His flesh was ripped open by whips …