The Knitting Theologian

The first reading this morning is from the Acts of the Apostles, as are all the first readings this week. Very appropriate for the Octave of Easter, as we hear about the ramifications of the Resurrection. I spent my mental prayer time this morning on the first reading, Acts 3:1-10, where Peter heals the man crippled from birth.

What struck me about this was the confidence with which Peter said, "I have neither silver nor gold, but what I do have I give you: in the name of Jesus Christ the Nazorean, rise and walk." Was this the first time Peter healed someone? How did he feel inside? He sounds confident. Did he know that he could do it? What is the lesson for me in this passage?

What I heard back was that Peter had faith that Jesus, working through him, could heal the man.

Do I have that kind of faith? That Jesus, working through me, can do what needs to be done?

How’s it going for you?

For me, I partly wonder how Lent went by so quickly. And I am asking whether I have changed.

One thing I love about my habit of saying Morning Prayer from the Liturgy of the Hours is the rhythm it lends to prayer. I like the four-week Psalter, and how certain psalms and readings become favorites that I look forward to seeing again and again. I can remember back to the first week of Lent, when I looked at the antiphons for the psalms and thought about how far away the fifth week of Lent seemed. And yet here I am.

I have had a peaceful and a penitential Lent, for the most part. Yesterday I had a sort of breakdown of resolve, where in a fit of crankiness I wanted to forget about all my Lenten practices and go back to my regularly scheduled life. Chalk it up to the spring time change, which I always find difficult, and a really good homily on suffering that I was having trouble with.

I don’t think I suffer, or, more precisely, I do not want to really acknowledge the ways in which I suffer. I tend to minimize or even dismiss my suffering, thinking that just because it is largely internal and emotional, it doesn’t count. I am beginning to think that it’s important for me to acknowledge my own suffering, though. That if I skip that step, and rush onto Easter, like abandoning my Lenten practices now, I will miss out on important spiritual knowledge.

And this morning I have been blessed with new resolve to help me get through this day, at least, and, I hope, through the rest of Lent. Whew.