Sep 2014 The Road to Daybreak A Spiritual Journey by Henri J M Nouwen

A Promise of Resurrection (cont) Continue from ...... Still, the celebration of the resurrection of the body is also the celebration of the daily care given to the bodies of these handicapped men and women. Washing and feeding, pushing wheelchairs, carrying, kissing and caressing - these are all ways in which these broken bodies are made ready for the moment of a new life. Not only their wounds but also the care given them will remain visible in the resurrection. It is a great and powerful mystery. Philippe's poor distorted body will one day be buried and return to dust. But he will rise again on the day of the resurrection of the dead. He will rise from the grave with a new body and will show gloriously the pain he suffered and the love he received. It will not be just a body. It will be his body, a new body, a body that can be touched but is no longer subject to torture and destruction. His passion will be over. What a faith! What a hope! What a love! The body is not a prison to escape from, but a temple in which God already dwells, and in which God's glory will be fully manifested on the day of the ressurection. An Intimate Event Easter morning. A very simple, quiet Eucharist around the table in Madame Vanier's dining room. There were five of us: Madame Vanier, Sue Hall from Canada, Elizabeth Buckley from the United States, Liz Emergy from England, and myself. A small group of friends happy to be together. After the Gospel we spoke together about the resurrection. Liz who works with many anguished people, said, "We have to keep rolling away the large stones that prevent people from coming out of their graves." Elizabeth, who lives with four handicapped people in a L'Arche foyer, said, "After the resurrection Jesus had breakfast again with his friends and showed them the importance of the small, ordinary things of life." Sue, who is wondering if she might be called to go to Honduras and work with the L'Arche community there, said, "It is such a comfort to know that Jesus' wounds remain visible in his risen body. Our wounds are not taken away, but become sources of hope to others." As everyone spoke, I felt very close to the Easter event. It was not a spectacular event forcing people to believe. Rather, it was an event for the friends of Jesus, for those who had known him, listened to him, and believed in him. It was a very intimate event: a word here, a gesture there, and a gradual awareness that something new was being born - small, hardly noticed, but with the potential to change the face of the earth. Mary of Magdala heard her name. John and Peter saw the empty grave. Jesus' friends felt their hearts burn in encounters that find expression in the remarkable words "He is risen." All had remaind the same, while all had changed. The five of us, sitting in a circle around the table with a little bread and a little wine, speaking softly about the way we were recognizing him in our lives, knew deep in our hearts that for us too all had changed, while all had remained the same. Our struggles are not ended. On Easter morning we can still feel the pains of the world, the pains of our family and friends, the pains of our hearts. They are still there and will be there for a long time. Still, all is different because we have met Jesus and he has spoken to us. There was a simple, quiet joy among us and a deep sense of being loved by a love that is stronger, much stronger, than death.

- To Be Continued - © Copyright Shalom 2014. All rights reserved.