Magic

It's magic being here, living here at Inlet Beach, Rosemary Beach. Peace at last. As if Harry Potter waved his wand over the word Hurrication that hit me on returning to Bay County, Panama City, StAndrews and Bay from Pensacola right after Hurricane Michael, taking in Malinda's house and 7H and heading back across Hathaway Bridge for a month or two at PCB; then another bridge and transported westward into South Walton County. Maybe Phillips Inlet Bridge is a portkey and this is Diagon Alley. Magic, another place altogether. Not only fifth floor rooftop with sea vista; sidewalk down, around and beneath a canopy of trees along a village green; private porch for stargazing. Cars speeding by and trucks shifting gears aren't as fascinating as large ships a stone's throw out, but a busy intersection, US98 & 30A with moving things to watch. Not to mention fried, baked, and half-shell oysters at Stinky's Fish Camp.

Oysters at Stinky's? 

Shhh, can't you read? I said not to mention it.  

Books to read, studying to do, Time for it. YouTube to tap for WW1 and WW2 films, documents and coverage in English, German, Russian, Japanese, some with captions, some sans. DVD films to watch. It's all good. Peace. Time. Life is Good where Every Day is a Beautiful Day.

Ahead to Sunday, Epiphany 1C, our gospel reading includes Luke's version of Jesus' baptism. Contemplating the baptism narratives, each synoptic has a report that seems slightly different from the other two. It's fun to explore this and discover that similarities, and especially differences, are not as incidental as they seemed. The Gospel according to John has no real baptism story, but uses the time and setting otherwise, in another way altogether, for John the Baptist personally to renounce claim to messiahship and set him aside as a major player (all four gospels do this but John makes it more clear); but also especially to set the stage for the passion scenario that proves the acclamation, "Ἴδε ὁ ἀμνὸς τοῦ θεοῦ" and where the Last Supper is not yet Pesach.

Can it be exciting, an astonishment?

Years ago, make it fall semester 2005, my HNES middle school class was reading and watching C S Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The flick and the book. Lewis called it pre-evangelical to set the stage for later realization. Hoping the students would see the scriptural allusions and "get it," I intentionally had pointed out nothing as we read the book and watched the film. At this day in our story, we watched horrified as Aslan was cruelly tormented and gleefully murdered on the stone table by Jadis. Now it was morning and the girls had come to see his body, but he was not there. Turning, they saw him strolling on the hilltop green and rushed to talk with him. I stopped the film and waited hopefully for my students to "get it," but nothing. 

Pressing, I asked, essentially, Don't you get it? Aslan was innocent. He offered himself to be put to death so Edmund would not have to be turned over to the witch and be killed. Aslan gave his life to pay for Edmund's sin, Aslan was dead, now he's alive again, what morning is it? Don't you get it? 

Very quiet as every student stared at me. It was sixth or seventh grade, almost fifteen years ago, and I don't remember who, but suddenly as I was watching, one girl's face lit up. She paused, and whispered "Easter! It's Jesus!" and I heard gasps and saw eyes go wide and saw almost every mouth drop open. Some said "Oh!!!" Epiphany is the magic of the Holy Spirit filling a middle school classroom as every child suddenly "gets it." 

How to help make that happen for good folks in a group of adults who've lived life to the fullest, and to the emptiest, and have heard it all? 

T

pic: The Pig where we had lunch yesterday
pic: 1948 Chevrolet deluxe cab pickup, one of the most beautiful things under my sun. Maybe another was a 1949 Ford as I stand beside my grandfather looking at it, brand new in the showroom