Dear Friends at New Covenant, To reminisce means: to indulge in enjoyable recollection of past events. Just remembering then, I surmise, can be enjoyable or not. Even the bad times, moments, events, decisions, etc. now after 23 years on April Fool’s Day, can evoke a smile from me. I am so thankful. So I reminisce.

Dear Friends at New Covenant, “Do you love me?” Is a question Jesus asks Peter in the gospel reading for this Sunday -- three times! I have often wondered how I would answer that question. Take a minute and ponder it. What would you say to Jesus? After all, I suspect he is asking. If you try to steal Peter’s answer as I often have i.e. ‘You know I do’ or give a one-word response i.e. ‘Yes’, then hear the second part of the question, ‘How do you love me?’ How is your love expressed? Paul thinks that’s all that matters! “The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.” Gal 5.6b

Buried under my books and blogs, notes and commentaries both ancient and modern, I found myself still at a loss to imagine what happened this weekend – Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Yet there are some things to be said, and some things to be partially realized, and a once-for-all story to be shocked by once again. One thing we can say is the cross is a pivotal place. What we say about the cross and the resurrection determines our direction, our destiny. One film I watched lately, CALVARY, an Irish film of 2014 starring Brendan Gleeson as the priest, began with the words from St. Augustine (354-430): Do not despair: one thief was saved. Do not presume: one thief was damned.

And I am often all wet. I heard the first splash and scream from my study, then a second, followed by a third. Arriving at the pool, I saw that Emmett was more cautious, working his way into the pool step by step. For all, it was the first dip of the swim season. And I still don’t know how I resisted Abby’s “Pleeeease Papa” invitation, because as I mentioned, I’m usually all wet and my splash is usually in the first wave. A few weeks ago I had been giving thanks to God for the faith in our family, especially remembering our children and now watching our grandchildren. Watching them and listening to them express and live their life with the Lord is such a blessing and encouragement, and as I gave thanks I wondered where/how they got it.

“This life is sort of like a test for the next, preparation. How we live here matters.” That was my mother’s answer to a question, which I don’t recall as well as her response, that I asked her almost 6 decades ago. It must have had to do with the meaning of life. What else does a nine-year-old ask his parents? After all too much time and theological education, I like her answer, yet I am still pondering what we can do that prepares us for eternal life.

This Sunday, the third of Advent, is called “Gaudete” Sunday. It’s the Latin word from the Vulgate, the Latin translation of the Bible, for the opening of the reading from Philippians, Rejoice: And as we light the third Advent candle we pray:

It’s always dangerous to share a New Year’s resolution, and to share one before the new year has officially begun is even more so. Nonetheless, this Sunday, which we designate as Christ the King, is the last Sunday in the church year, and the next is the beginning of Advent, the first Sunday of the new liturgical year. Risking all, in light Jesus’ kingship and the move of Advent toward the Incarnation, here’s my resolution and invitation. I want to be a Kingsman. And I want to invite each of you to be a Kingsman or Kingswoman as well. I’ll explain.

Charles M. Irish 7/13/29 - 10/12/15 "My dad, whose life you all have come here tonight to celebrate, and in some way must have touched your lives, was just an ordinary guy. Like you and me. And he would say that if he was here. He just pushed ahead with whatever God gave him or put in front of him. He was bold like that." Sounded to me a bit like bold Bartimaeus in Sunday's gospel reading. “I want to see!”

Seems to me, we somehow think the box, which is quite real, i.e. the one with only X number of breaths for any of us, is really real, will last forever, but another part of us, somewhere deep down, knows it won’t. Yet we paint it, decorate it, treat it, as if it will, with our cheers or tears for ourselves, others, and the world. And well we should on the one hand, but there is the other hand.

Believe it: There once was a day when breaths were not numbered. When there was no lid on the box, or even four walls for that matter. So where did the box come from you ask, and our X number of inhales and exhales originate? Listen and look.