conjectural navel gazing; jesus in lint form

sermon mumblings: the great escape

Has anyone else given thought to this Sunday's readings? I'm preaching the Ascension text and the Seventh Sunday of Easter gospel. It should be interesting. I have been trying to plan ahead a bit. So, I've had a working title for a couple of weeks now: The Great Escape. I am hoping to enfold a little Miche Quoist in there somewhere. His poetry is unreal.

THE SUBWAY

The last ones squeeze in.
The door rolls shut.
The subway rumbles off.
I can't move;
I am no longer an individual but a crowd,
A crowd that moves in one piece like jellied soup in its can.

A nameless and indifferent crowd, probably far from you, Lord.
I am one with the crowd, and I see why it's sometimes hard for
me to rise higher.
The crowd is heavy - leaden soles on my feet, my slow feet - a
crowd too large for my overburdened skiff.
Yet, Lord, I have no right to overlook these people; they are
my brothers,
And I cannot save myself, alone.

Lord, since you wish it, I shall head for heaven "in the subway."

- from Prayers by Michel Quoist