An excerpt from this evening's porch-sitting reflection on disheartened emotions living alongside an awe of the cross:

The disparity, perhaps, is the feeling of the cross. The deed which afforded life but cost death is the greatest emotionally-confusing and bittersweet act that ever was.

Jesus, Fully God, asked that it be not this way: "remove it," "take it away," "some other way, please." That is, remove the separation caused by sin followed by death and the divorcing of Son from Father which were to occur on the cross. A pain, relative to the physical, infinitely more tortuous.

So, perhaps on the exhale of Easter's celebration there indeed comes a "what now?" and a "wait why?" and a "how much longer?" soul-level sentiment in those of us who see the crucifixion moment and resurrection victory as indicating so much more than what we will fully recognize on this side of Heaven.

Which is the Spirit coaching and reminding, "Yes, absolution has come, and so much more is on the way." Eagerly anticipating that so much more can feel like Christ on the garden-side of the cross: in a painful placement, anticipating reunion.

Swayed

When you close your eyes and imagine what it is to be at peace, what do you see?

Listen as you continue reading below.

To be at peace is a state. And as movers and shakers of the Gospel, ambassadors, scent-spreaders, diffusers and climbers, we know a "state" of peace is an active one. In fact, we are "led forth" in peace, almost as if we are donkeys in a train tethered together as a community of ass-swinging hee-haws, and we're being propelled or pulled forward, even, by an acting force or agent. In this case, peace. 

In this way, to be at peace is to be controlled, in a way.

Our God, our Great Father and King, pre-planned and deemed His Son the Prince of Peace. That is to suggest that peace is the very mission and cause of our Savior. Which we know to be true since His very "covenant of peace" shall never be shaken, He tells us. 

Thus, if peace was and is the very mission of our Savior, then through the remnant of Himself in us, His Spirit, we are propelled, driven and controlled. In other words, since it was the mission of our Savior to usher in peace to His people, so it is the mission of our Spirit to give peace. This is the crowning jewel of a lasting covenant to the people of God, now both Jews and ingrafted-olive-branch Gentiles. 

To answer my own question, I was sitting in worship this morning thinking what it would look like to be at such peace that I might be "swayed by the Spirit".* 

I think it would look like a stalk of wheat in a sea of stalks that bend reactively when the wind blows. The wheat cannot resist it. 

"Spirit, control our feet, our hearts, our tongue. Take over our bodies, our mind, our hearts. Sway us. Overcome us. Flood us. Harvest us. Make us hum."

(That is not to say that self-recognizing a state of peace is a prerequisite of allowing oneself to be swayed. In fact, I think amidst turmoil we still are called to be "swayed". Thus the aforementioned donkey analogy to suggest that even as stubborn caravanning Christians, we can be given the identity of recipients of peace.)