An opening Meditation for a Vestry meeting, by Susan Lambeth, April 16, 2007.

I didn’t feel inspired by any of the lectionary readings for today, so I’ve chose my own, John 10:10.

 "The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

This passage is part of the parable of Jesus as the Good Shepherd where he explains that sheep instinctively know how to discern a good shepherd from a thief by the way the shepherd cares for and leads his sheep.  I think the gospel writer is essentially talking about how to determine who is a true leader or prophet, but this passage resonated with me from a metaphorical point of view.

The Easter season took on a clearer meaning for me last year when it followed on the heels of my cancer diagnosis and surgery.  Stunned by the finding of advanced ovarian cancer, Easter was my promise of a second chance at this life.  I don’t lay claim to any certainty about what happens beyond this life, and it frankly seems unimportant to me, but I do know that what exists right here, right now, at this very moment, even in this Vestry meeting, is the possibility for a life of abundance and excess.  I believe that this possibility exists for every person, everywhere; it is manner of paying attention to what is real and true and important.

So what is real for me?  “The knowledge and love of God” is real for me.  The very tangible ways all of you and many others in our church family have cared for me over the past year is very tangible evidence of God’s love.  I have been moved to tears to learn that some people in this church still pray for me everyday.  The love and support of my immediate and extended family are real.  All of these relationships are more intimate and less concerned with posturing or the annoyances in everyday life. This wondrous spring overflowing with color and beauty is real to me.  Many, but not all, of my daily responsibilities at home, in my job and at church are real for me.

If I focus on what is true and real, I am not tempted by the thieves that would come to “kill, steal and destroy.”  These thieves appear in different guises:  fear of the return of my cancer, a need to fill my hours with busyness so that I might avoid unwanted feelings, a need for approval, preoccupation with minutia, and hours on autopilot where my mind has followed a “what if” trajectory to some future point.  I pay a price in the form of anxiety when I allow these thieves into my life.  And, I miss precious parts of life that have the promise of God’s grace and love.

Getting a deadly disease is a high price to pay for new perspective, but this new perspective crept into my life so gently, without effort, and has made me feel very grateful.  I don’t wake up each morning with a wonderful positive energy determined to make each day the best it can be.  I deal with my share of bad days, just like the rest of you, but I do wake up most days with a sense of equilibrium and confidence that did not exist before. 

So this is the Easter message for me and maybe for you too.  That the risen Lord can be found in the fabric of our lives right here and right now and that we have the promise of new life at every turn.