I will admit—I’ve been spoiled by Amazon Prime. I’m reading through a biography on every American President (and then some), and when I get about halfway through the last book in a shipment, I order the next seven or so and bite my nails the next day and a half it takes for them to arrive. Once again—I order books that are brought from all over the country to my doorstep over the course of 36 hours. Apparently Amazon is now working on delivery within an hour, or same-day, or something. And I write this on an incredibly fast internet connection that puts the world at my fingertips, as I listen to a press conference in real time.
What does it mean to live in Now? Does it lessen gratification?
I think about a common chant at protests: “What do we want?” “Justice!” “When do we want it?” “Now!” Not later, not when it’s convenient, not when it’s gradually been accomplished, but rather, equitable and just treatment of all people in this immediate moment, without hesitation, reservation or hemming and hawing.
What does it mean to live in Now? Does it make the world different?
Jesus goes to Bethany because his friend Lazarus died. Martha, Lazarus’s sister, talks with him and says she believes in resurrection, in the end of all things. There’s an uncertain faithfulness in her words, an abandonment of process—the stuff we’ve been talking about all through Lent, really. And Jesus says “I am the resurrection and the life.” And—I paraphrase here, my Greek’s awful—“How about now? Is now good?” And Lazarus is resurrected.
What does it mean to live in Now? What does it mean to die to what was, and rise in what is?
I look forward to seeing you Sunday. Shalom y’all,