I travelled to Romania for two weeks recently. Out of all my many remarkable experiences, the most amazing was walking into the home of a stranger and seeing at the kitchen table a young woman eating a bowl of soup. Just sitting there, calmly, spoon in hand, slurping soup! Though my heart was pounding at the sight, I held it together in that moment—saving tears of gratitude for later.

Today is Easter Sunday, so I’m writing in celebration of the resurrection of our Lord. No, a software glitch didn’t mess up the timing of this blog post. In the Eastern liturgical calendar, Easter often falls a week later than in the West. Some years I’ve attended Easter services in both USA and Romania on consecutive weeks. Of course in the Christian tradition, every Sunday commemorates the resurrection—celebrated from the early times as “the Lord’s Day.”

So today is simply an ordinary Easter, especially here in the West where it now falls in that long stretch of the liturgical calendar known as Ordinary Time. I’m reminded of Jesus’s post-resurrection appearances that were evidently quite ordinary in nature, according to Gospel accounts. Often he wasn’t even recognized as anyone notable, even by friends. Outside the tomb, Mary Magdalene took him to be the landscape guy. Emmaus travelers mistook him for a fellow pedestrian. Though he performed many spectacular wonders before his death, afterward he typically shared himself with simple touch, a meal, or tender conversation.

I’m not denying or dismissing the spectacular. As a recreational fisherman, I’d be thrilled with the help Jesus gave the disciples in the boat after the resurrection. And I’d welcome the miracles of the apostles in Acts. But I do have a growing awareness of the addiction we might have to the “amazing.” Some observers have even suggested we ban this word. We watch SportsCenter for the Blake Griffin poster jam, not the Steve Nash pick-and-roll play. (Non-sports fans, please resume reading.)

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Oh what a difference a few months and a huge natural disaster can make in the mission of a theological seminary. Roughly a year ago, Mario Matos (Center for Transforming Mission Dominican Republic Director) and I sat around a table in Haiti with the leadership of a prominent seminary who called us into a meeting after a presentation we had been asked to make of the CTM training process for grassroots leaders to about 100 students and Haitian leaders. The seminary campus was surrounded by an ominous wall separating its tranquil learning environment from two expansive urban slums that literally sandwiched the campus on either side.

In an office with the seminary president and the rest of the executive team we learned about considerations of moving the seminary from its current location because of the rising delinquency and violence around them. In reference to our presentation on incarnational mission that we had just concluded, they held up their mission statement that said something about their call to train pastors and Christian leaders for community transformation and stated that if they indeed fled from their current location they would in effect be turning their backs on the very mission they had committed to instill in the students they served. They poignantly asked, “Can you help us learn how to engage and connect with the slums around us that are threatening to choke out our existence here?”

Shortly after that meeting, we received a tour of the beautiful seminary campus and were invited to visit a local pastor by passing into one of the two slums adjacent to the seminary. We entered the slum only after passing through a metal door painted red that was locked and guarded by a security guard.

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The street walkers
coming off their
high

The last deal
‘neath the dying light

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By my accounting, (God knows, I am no accountant) “miracles” account for about 2.5% of the Biblical narrative.

When I survey the roughly 4,000 years of history in Scripture, I count about 100 years where God is actively doing miracles – I mean the big stuff like parting seas, raising the dead, and healing people, not the everyday miracles we take for granted but are no less miraculous.

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St. Benedict’s first word in the Holy Rule is “Listen.”

I just returned from Mt. Angel Abbey, which is a Benedictine monastery in Oregon, where I tried to practice this word for three days. I listened with well-trained monks as my guide, and I entered the rhythm of monastic prayer as best I could.

While at the monastery, I met with Father Jeremy Driscoll, who has been a valuable voice in my life. He is a gifted teacher, poet and author of several books. I invite you to pick up a copy of Father Jeremy’s latest book, A Monk’s Alphabet – Moments of Stillness in a Turning World. It is a wonderful exploration of God at work in the ordinary moments of life. As we enter that part of the church calendar called “ordinary time” I think you will find Father Jeremy a skilled guide.

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