My father died about three years ago. As May comes around, the azaleas spring to life, and I remember my father's passing. Just as sure as the tulips and dogwood blossom, my mind wanders back to my dad. Even when I begin to open up to these strange and wonderful stories of Easter, struggling with the notions of recognition and revelation, I think about the last few months of my father's life.
The story of the disciples on the road to Emmaus is a favorite of mine. I love the image of pilgrims traveling together, struggling to understand tragedy and loss. I love that Jesus enters the story as a pushy traveling companion who sidles up beside them and talks their ears off for the rest of the trip.
And I love that it's not Jesus' incisive exegesis of the promises in scripture that open the disciples' eyes to his identity. It is his presence with them at a shared meal
It was the spring of 1988. We had rounded the corner of the liturgical year again, and although I'd preached Easter sermons many times, I was feeling relieved that I was not preaching the Easter service that year. Senior minister Thomas Allsop would preach to the throngs of parishioners and visitors at historic Beechgrove Church of Aberdeen, Scotland.
I am not a particularly confident pastor and preacher. I
don't think I am neurotic about it, but I do harbor my own sense of doubt. It's
not that the doubt freezes me in place and keeps me from functioning. It's more
the kind of doubt that sits off in the corner somewhere, creeping up now and
then to poke at me, asking questions like, Does anything you do really make a
A. M. Stroud III, a former prosecutor in Louisiana, expresses regret for the role he played in sending Glenn Ford to death row in 1984. “I was 33 years old. I was arrogant, judgmental, narcissistic and very full of myself. I was not as interested in justice as I was in winning.” Stroud says he presented dubious evidence from a forensic pathologist, precluded black jurors from the trial (Ford, since exonerated, is black), and ignored the fact that the appointed defense attorney had never before tried a criminal or capital case. “I . . . hope that providence will have more mercy for me than I showed Glenn Ford,” Stroud said in a letter to the editor of the Times of Shreveport. “But, I’m also sobered by the realization that I certainly am not deserving of it” (ABA Journal, March 25).