Questions?

In this era of global information, Siri and Alexa grant wishes and follow instructions. YouTube demonstrates how to create, fix, or assemble just about anything. The answers to many, but not all, questions are at our fingertips on the keyboards of our gadgets. Google makes every life better...or NOT! Many of us have a list of what we want to ask when we get to heaven. The solution to some queries can only be imagined. Allow me to mention a few of these.

First, what happened to the piece of bread? (John 13:30 MSG) "Judas, with the piece of bread, left." In the upper room during the last supper, Jesus dipped and then handed a piece of the dinner bread to Judas. Satan entered Judas, and he left the room with bread in hand. He may have eaten it. I'm pretty sure he didn't take it with him to meet with the Jewish leaders to "sign the betrayal contract." More than likely he tossed it to the dogs in a timely fashion.

Second, who started the hymn? (Matthew 26:30 MSG) "They sang a hymn and went directly to Mount Olives." We are not told the instigator. Perhaps Jesus led it needing some soothing music before facing what he knew lay ahead. Peter, who was always one of the first to speak, might have thought the occasion warranted something special. Any of the apostles could've played conductor. Truth is, we have no clue.

Finally, who folded the kerchief? (John 20:7 MSG) "Simon Peter arrived after him, entered the tomb, observed the linen clothes lying there, and the kerchief used to cover his head not lying with the linen cloths but separate, neatly folded by itself." Did Jesus initially remove and neatly fold the face cloth then hurry with the other garments dumping them to the side as Mary Magdalene approached? There certainly was no maid service or gadget that would respond to, "Alexa, fold the face cloth." Possibly angels assisted him in those first minutes of rebirth.

Given these Biblical scenarios for which there are no recorded answers, what do you think? We know little, but we can imagine a lot.

Silence

In Psalm 46:10 God encourages us to, "Be still and know that I am God..." Sometimes I try to be stationary and silent to know God better. Whether watching the sunset or squirrels frolicking across the street, it works. I feel closer to my Creator when I am inactive and listen.

I remember my senior year of high school as if it were 53 years ago. I transferred that fall (1966) from my New Orleans public school to Harding Academy in Searcy, Arkansas. I was destined to enroll at the college the next year. I lived in a campus dorm. Since my parents didn't move with me, I was ineligible for participation in interscholastic sports. I did serve as manager. My love of music and an ability to carry a tune in a bucket qualified me for singing the bass part in the academy's chorus. It became the highlight of my senior year.

One of my fondest memories is opening our choral performances singing the hymn The Lord Is in His Holy Temple. We immediately repeated it humming softly as someone recited the poem In Silence:

In silence comes all loveliness.

The dawn is ever still.

No noise accompanies the dew

That glistens on the hill.

The sunrise comes up quietly;

The moon is never heard.

And love that animates the eye

Surpasses any word.

And prayer is best in solitude.

It seems so very odd

That long before I did not know

In silence I'd find God.

This poem is still very special to me. I remembered most of the words even five decades later, but I was unsure of the precise rendition. Thanks to Google, I discovered the original version and its author Marianne Moore (1887-1972). She was a modernist poet of her era. Thanks to God, Marianne, and Google for help as I composed this blog.  In Silence is public domain. Use it as you wish when you search in silence for God.