Third Sunday of Easter

April 19                       NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Third Sunday of Easter

Texts: Acts 3:12-19; 1 John 3:1-7; Luke 24:36b-48*

[*Hopefully these are the right readings.  Last week, after sending the Notes off on Thursday as usual, I received from the Diocesan Office notice the next day that the reading from Acts in the Lectionary was wrong.  It was fortunate in a way, because if there is any passage in Scripture more foreign to our own present-day reality than Acts 4:32-35 I can't immediately think what it is.]

Theme:  We're rather spoilt for choice this week, with two great stories and a relatively lucid passage of John's First Letter.  It's hard to go past "In the Breaking of the Bread", or some variation along those lines.  But if the reading from Acts captures your imagination, there are a whole number of possibilities: "As the Master, So the Servants"; "The Power of the Resurrection": or (my personal choice) "Speaking the Truth".  The first part of our epistle reading suggests something like "Becoming Evermore Like Christ"; or "Looking into Our Future".  The second part suggests that you don't base your theme on it.

Introduction.  We start with the second "sermon" we have in the Book of Acts.  Peter's basic approach remains unchanged: he tells it as it is to people as they are.  Populism has not yet invaded the Church.  St John starts off in his "kindly old grandfather" tone, marvelling at the goodness and love of God and how we are all God's beloved children; but suddenly in verses 4-7 he shows another side of his character – either naive or mongrel, depending on how you read these few verses.  We finish with the glorious but rather contrived conclusion to the story set on the Road to Emmaus.

Background.  I am becoming increasingly alarmed by Pope Francis.  If he manages to hang around much longer I might be in danger of concluding that the Reformation was a terrible mistake and we should all head back to Rome as fast as possible!  Quite how the Holy Spirit was able to lead the College of Cardinals to choose such a Christ-like man to sit on the throne of St Peter I have no idea; but it does help to put the so-called miracles in the gospels and the Book of Acts into some sort of perspective – in fact, it makes some of them seem almost mundane by comparison.  How could it be that a group of elderly men from various parts of the world, many chosen by such well-known conservatives as Pope John Paul II and Pope Benedict XVI, elects a man who believes that it is possible to be Pope without wearing hand-made red slippers and without living in a virtual palace?  A man who, immediately following his election, rides on a bus back to his hotel and pays his own hotel bill?  A man who believes that the Vatican Bank should conduct its business ethically and honestly?  A man who believes that Moslem female feet are just as worthy to be washed as those of a Cardinal?  A man who not only lives out the teachings of Christ in his own life and ministry, but also expects his fellow bishops and priests to do the same?  Since when has gross self-indulgence by clergy been a sackable offence?

But above all these things, it seems to me, what most gives this remarkable man the authentic stamp of Christ is his habit of speaking the truth.  Just before Christmas (as I commented in these Notes a few weeks ago) Pope Francis gave a break-up office party speech like no other to the members of the Curia - not in a carefully nuanced formal document, but face to face straight from the lip and hip.  Sir Graham Henry (or for soccer fans, Sir Alec Ferguson) could not have been more direct in telling his team to lift their game.

But in-house stuff is one thing.  This week Pope Francis took his truth-speaking outside, naming the slaughter of hundreds of thousands of Armenians by the fast collapsing Ottoman Empire as the first act of genocide of the 20^th century.  As the victims were victimized on grounds of race (and religion), it is hard to know what other word would do ("ethnic-cleansing" is a possibility, I guess).  Predictably, Turkey threw a hissy fit, called the Pope all sorts of rude words, and withdrew its Ambassador to the Holy See.  That would not have surprised the Pope: if he had told the Vatican diplomatic team what he was going to say they would have begged him not to, not because it was untrue, but because it was undiplomatic.  It could even (perish the thought) damage trade!

Meanwhile a very brief news item caught my ear on the radio on Monday, only to disappear without trace.  Someone asked our Prime Minister if he thought the time had come when New Zealand should apologise to Turkey for invading their country 100 years ago.  Without a moment's thought the Prime Minister said "no".  No surprise there, but the fact that someone thought fit to ask that question was an interesting, particularly as it again featured Turkey, this time not as the aggressor but as the victim.  Far more Turkish soldiers died defending their land than the invading forces (including our troops) died in attacking them.  Does that not deserve even a moment's thought – if not an apology?

Peter – like his latest and very worthy successor, Francis – will never be recognised as a man of great diplomacy, although he did weaken a bit and throw them a sop in verse 17.  (Conversely, Paul showed great diplomatic skills in Athens - Acts 17:16-32 – but, of course, spoilt it all at the end by lapsing into speaking the truth about resurrection.)  His only excuse is that he learned from the Master.  (Years ago I realised just how blunt Jesus was when I heard a marvellous priest who hailed from Burnley in Lancashire reading from chapter 23:13 onwards of Matthew's gospel: I tell you, if you have a friend with a broad Lancashire accent, ask him to read that passage to you and you will never think of Jesus as meek and mild again!)

Of course, we know better than that today.  Threatened by falling numbers, dropping revenues, and all the resulting problems of gaps on our lawn-mowing and church-cleaning rosters, we seek to be ever-more diplomatic to avoid giving offence to anyone inside or outside the Church.  After all, didn't St Paul say we are called to be Ambassadors for Christ?  Perhaps Pope Francis needs to give that a moment's thought.

Acts 3:12-19.  If we didn't already know that the author of St Luke's gospel is also the author of the Book of Acts this particular story (beginning at verse 1) should be enough to convince us.  It is beautifully told, with all the characteristics we expect to find in a Lukan story.  Notice the details he gives us, which are not essential to the story itself, but are Luke's way of telling us that this is no parable or fairy story – this stuff actually happened.  He tells us the precise time (3.00pm): he tells us a lot about one of the central characters in the story – he was not just a beggar, or a lame beggar, but one who had been lame from birth, and who was regularly carried to a prime begging spot at the Beautiful Gate.  Then comes a detailed account of the encounter between this man and Peter and John.  There is much eyeballing between the three of them, before they get down to business.  And what a business it is!  There is something far more valuable in this world than money!  (Who'd have thought?)  And the whole drama is written out in a way that is clearly intended to remind us of Jesus' healing of the paralytic.  Complete with the astonished crowd.  The only difference is the impromptu choreography – everyone (with the probable exception of Peter and John) are dancing, leaping and running.  Fishermen – even ex-fishermen – don't dance, at least in public.  What they are good at is recognising a shoal when they see one and knowing how to make a good catch.  (Think Mark 1:17 here).  And as in his first "sermon", Peter does not use subtlety and patience – he's no fly-fisherman : he whacks them with the cudgel of Truth.  Terrible diplomacy but great preaching!  Of course, it got him arrested – but it got the Church about 5,000 new members (Acts 4:4)!  (Who'd have thought?)

Taking It Personally.

·        Read through the whole story (3:1-4:4) slowly.  Notice the mix of action and teaching, so common in the gospel accounts of Jesus' ministry.  How do your feelings change as you work though the narrative?  What word, phrase or line sticks in your memory?

·        If you're a visual person, spend time imagining the scene.  What is your impression of the beggar as he "lies in wait" for Peter and John?  How do they look at him?  Now watch as the newly-healed man goes bananas.  Can you feel his joy?

·        Are you interested in Peter's "explanation", or do you find it dry and boring after the "main event".

·        Imagine John and Peter coming towards you now.  What would you seek from them?

 

1 John 3:1-7.  This is quite a dense passage, full of deep truth.  The author is struck by the incredible thought that God has adopted us (as Paul would put it), making us his children.  That is wondrous enough.  But, of course, children grow up, and as we do it often happens that we come to look more like our parents than we did in infancy or childhood.  Perhaps that thought is behind the early verses of this passage.  The point is that the Christian life is not static – it is one of growth, which means that we are not yet what we finally will be.  What we will be is a unique manifestation of God's incarnation.  So far, so wonderful.  But then comes the dark side.  Verse 6 is about as scary as Scripture gets.  Well, actually verses 8-10 are just as scary, but fortunately we are spared these for now.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Find some old photographs of yourself.  Can you see any resemblance between you and either of your parents, or some other close relative?  Now look in a mirror: have you become more like any of those people over the intervening years?

·        Have you become more like God (Christ) over those years?

·        Use verses 4-7 to guide a period of self-examination and reflection.

 

Luke 24:36-48.  Sad to say, this story, full of deep theological insight though it is, is, for me, one of the least convincing of the Easter stories.  It seems to lack the raw authenticity of the others.  In contrast to our reading from the Book of Acts, we might note in particular none of the "hard" detail of that other passage.  The attempt at comedic drama (Shakespeare would have done it so much better) doesn't quite work for me.  Recognising Jesus in the breaking of the bread is helpful confirmation that, by the date of this gospel (say, 70-80 AD) the ritual of Holy Communion was well-established in the various nascent Christian communities, but the "recognition" of the sacramental presence of Christ is all-too contrived to be convincing as an actual account.  Similarly, Luke's "amended" version of the Risen Christ appearing among the Eleven in the locked room smacks of "planted evidence".  He is trying too hard to establish that Jesus really was there and his body really was real by having the Risen Christ eat fish.  For my money that detail ruins the story as told in John's gospel, which we had last week.  As for the repetition of the importance of understanding how Jesus fulfils the Scriptures, again this is Luke the lecturer rather than Luke the marvellous  storyteller.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

·        Do you agree or disagree with "my review" of this passage?  Why?

·        How real for you is the sacramental presence of Jesus in the Eucharistic bread?  Do you "feel" the reality of it, or is it more in your mind and understanding?  Or neither?

·        Of what things, then, are you a witness – and to whom?

·        As we move on next week from the Appearances, which of them do you find most convincing?  How would you explain your belief in the resurrection of Jesus to an interested but unconvinced friend? 

Second Sunday of Easter

April 12                       NOTES FOR REFLECTION             Second Sunday of Easter

Texts:  Acts 2:14a, 22-32; 1 John 1-2:2; John 20:19-31

Theme:  Throughout the Season of Easter our readings are all about experience, testimony and action, the three essential legs of Christian spirituality.  Thomas is a supreme role model for us, yet he has gone through history with the unfortunate sobriquet of "Doubting Thomas".  So what about "Honouring Thomas", or "Restoring Thomas", or even "Thomas the Role Model"?  Then, of course, we could test our short-term memories by going with "Je Suis Thomas" or – better – "Nous Sommes Thomas".

Introduction.  If there is any consolation for several weeks without Isaiah it is surely to be found in the series of readings from the Book of Acts which light our way through the Easter Season.  We start today with Peter at full roar, now emptied of all self-belief and filled with the power of the Holy Spirit.  He pulls no punches.  Platitudes have no place in the first Christian sermon.  John appears much more conciliatory and kindly, but the difference is only one of style.  The message is the same.  Only by accepting the truth about ourselves can we obtain forgiveness.  Thomas knows the truth when he encounters it: he makes no attempt to save face or to justify himself.  He surrenders completely to the risen Lord.

Background.  "Anamnesis" is not an easy word to spell, to pronounce, or to comprehend, which may explain why we so rarely come across it outside of technical works on liturgy.  Even then it is usually confined to commentary on the various parts of the Eucharistic texts, and there is still debate as to its exact meaning.  It is generally attached to the memorial of the Lord's death, resurrection and ascension, but what exactly does it mean to "remember" those things?  Is the Eucharistic liturgy a sort of potted history – "This day 2,000 years ago", type of thing?  Or is there something more to it, something much deeper than that?

Many of us will have attended services on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday.  What were those services about?  Were they essentially history lessons: were we participating in some sort of re-enactments of past events, some sort of historical pageants; so that when they were over, we could go home and have a cup of tea and get back to our real life?  Or were those services an opportunity to participate in the actual "events" themselves?  Is "anamnesis" more about bringing the past, not to just to mind, but into the present?  I might "remember" that Peter denied even knowing Jesus, but what is the source of that memory?  A simple fact told to me, perhaps, or something I have read in the Bible?  Or is it rooted in something far deeper than that?  Is there a sense that I "remember" Peter's denial because I have been there when he did it – as I was last Thursday?

One of the staples for the newspapers at this time of the year is to print pictures of various groups carrying the cross, often from one church to another in a local area.  The ODT duly observed this ritual at the weekend, but sadly without any in-depth interviews with participants.  I studied the photographs carefully, and asked myself a simple question.  If the cross did not appear in the photograph would I have known, just by looking at the people themselves, what they were doing or where they were going?  I am sure I would not.  In the absence of the cross my guess would have been that they were members of a local walking club, or something of that nature.  There was not a tear in sight.  There were no downcast looks – nothing to suggest that they were on the way to Golgotha to witness the terrible death of a loved one.  Of course, the weather didn't help.  It should always be freezing cold, blowing a gale and pouring with rain on Good Friday.  But what was really missing, it seemed to me as I scanned those smiling faces, was any indication that the journey they were making was literally along the via dolorosa in the footsteps of the tortured victim.

Here, surely, we can learn a lot from Anzac Day commemorations.  It is not only the few remaining veterans with their personal memories of past horrors and lost mates who are to be found with tears in their eyes on these occasions.  More and more, it seems, people are able and willing to enter into the terrible events we are remembering when we gather on such occasions.  Strip away the awful cant, the carefully scripted narratives, and the flagrant re-writing of history that is so often the ugly wrapping of these occasions, and what we are often left with is a deep sense of collective compassion, and a willingness, perhaps even a desire, to enter into the terrible suffering of those we are remembering.  Very rarely do I hear at Anzac commemorations the sort of empty small talk that we are all too often subjected to when we gather at the cross.  Remembrance of the heart, rather than recollection by the mind, is what I understand by anamnesis.

And all this applies as much to the Lord's resurrection as it does to his crucifixion.  In 2003 I wrote what I called "A Devotion for Eastertide", entitled "Stations of the Resurrection".  As with the Stations of the Cross, there were 14 stations designed to enable us to enter into the resurrection in the same way that the traditional devotion provides "a way into" the crucifixion.  The Stations of the Resurrection starts (not surprisingly) at the empty tomb, and the first few feature the well-known resurrection appearances.  But the structure of the whole things is designed to lead from head to heart, from recollection to anamnesis.  Station 9 features "The Breaking of the Bread" on the journey to Emmaus.  Then station 10 is "On the Road to Damascus", where Paul meets the risen Christ.   And then things turn really personal.  Station 11 is entitled "We Meet the Risen Christ".   You get the idea.

So the challenge in the coming weeks is to enter at an ever deeper level into the experience of the resurrection, to become "eye witnesses" able to testify firsthand that Jesus IS risen from death.  Of all the Easter Day services that I have been involved in over the years the one that stands out in my memory was in 1997.  I started the sermon with a few very learned comments on the readings and explained how they illustrated the orthodox teaching of the church, etc.  Then I stopped and said something like, "Which is all well and good.  But actually, as any lawyer will tell you, nothing beats an eye-witness account; so I am now going to hand you over to [N], who knows that Jesus Christ is alive today because she has met him in person."  My star witness then gave a brief account of meeting Christ, before returning to her seat.  It is not my natural modesty that leads me to say that no one who was there that day remembers a word of my sermon – I certainly don't.  But what I do remember very clearly is the response of the congregation.  One moment they were quiet, perhaps even somnolent, as they tried to give every appearance of listening to their Vicar preach: then as I called my star witness to the stand they came alive.  Easter broke out all around!

Acts 2:14a, 22-31.  We are used to the idea of Paul being transformed from arch persecutor to chief apostle; but is that any more astonishing than the transformation of Peter from recidivist denier to fearless proclaimer?  But notice how he is still clearly the same person – he is still very "Peterish" in his approach, isn't he?  He has been through the refiner's fire of Pentecost, but he is no more refined in manner and temperament than he was before.  Centuries before the invention of social media he has no regard for 'likes" and "followers".  He gets straight to the point if not to the jugular.  He eschews "I" and "we" statements.  Look at the number of times the word "you" appears in this passage.  "Attested to you"; "among you"; "as you yourselves know"; "handed over to you"; and, of course, "you crucified and killed".  The spotlight only falls on Peter and the others at the end of this passage – "of that all of us are witnesses".

Taking It Personally.

• Put yourself in the crowd.  Hear Peter's charges against you, see his jabbing finger pointing at you.  How do you feel?  What response do you want to make?  Are you cut to the quick or indignant at his cheek?
• Now put yourself in Peter's group.  Is he really speaking for you?  Are you a witness of the fact that God has raised Jesus from the dead?
• Looking back over Holy Week how much were you able to enter into the Lord's Passion?  How much did you feel the joy of resurrection on Easter morn?  Are you now radiating the joy of Easter to others?

 

1 John 1:1-2:2.  Again, we notice the writer's personal insistence that all he is writing is based on his own experience – "we declare to you what we have seen and heard".  He moves then to the "message" – this is no private spirituality for the benefit of the few chosen souls open to experiences of this kind.  The message directs attention first to God, and God's true nature.  God is pure light – there is no darkness in him.  Only in that light, may we walk in true holiness.  Now the focus is on us, and we must face up to the truth of our nature.  We are sinners in need of forgiveness: any failure to recognise that is complete illusion.  But here comes the good news: we have only to acknowledge our need for forgiveness and we are forgiven.  Thanks be to Christ who has done all that is required for the forgiveness, not only for our sins, but for the sins of the whole world.

 

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• A good day for a spiritual stock-take.  Looking back over the last two weeks, have you been constantly walking in the light?
• Ask the Spirit to bring to your mind anything that you need to confess to God.
• Notice the emphasis on fellowship in this passage.  Pray for your local faith community.  Do you enjoy good fellowship with all other members of that fellowship, or is some healing, forgiveness or reconciliation required?  What can you do to assist in any such way?  Will you do it?  When?

 

John 20:19-31.  There are really two stories rather than one in this passage, each with a dramatic dynamic of its own.  Rowan Williams, commenting on the first story, says that Jesus' appearance to his disciples is the supreme demonstration of forgiveness and love in the whole of Scripture.  He comes to the very people who have denied him, abandoned him, and doubted him – and gives them his peace.  We are assured that they "rejoiced when they saw the Lord", but was it really that simple?  And what about the commission he gave them?  However much they truly rejoiced in his forgiveness of them, were they keen to go into the world – the world that they were hiding from behind closed doors – and start dispensing forgiveness to all and sundry?  The second story is all about Thomas.  Where was he on that first night?  Had he already given up?  His attitude towards his fellow disciples certainly suggests that.  He can't believe what they are telling him – perhaps at one level he doesn't want to believe them.  It's over – let it go.  It's time to move on.  And yet... there must have been something in what they said – or in the way they said it –that got through to him.  Perhaps it was enough to give it one more try.  Perhaps he had in mind to challenge them – okay guys, now we're all here, so where's Jesus?  But then here was Jesus – wounds and all.  What more was there to say, but "My Lord and my God"?

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• A great passage for praying with the imagination.  Put yourself into the first scene.  Be aware of the "atmosphere", the shock, the fear, the disillusionment, perhaps even the sense of having been duped.
• Notice the effect when Jesus appears among them.  Were they embarrassed, ashamed of their own actions when the crunch came?  How are you feeling?  Are Jesus' wounds obvious?  How do you feel as he draws attention to them?
• Now turn your attention to the second scene.  Are you aware of any difference in the atmosphere?  Is there now an air of expectancy?  Is everyone looking at Thomas?  Are they looking forward to being proved right?  What do you feel towards Thomas at this point?  What words do you offer him?

Easter Day

April 5                         NOTES FOR REFLECTION                         Easter Day

Texts:  Isaiah 25:6-9; Acts 10:34-43; Mark 16:1-8*

[*Choices have to be made this week.  The Lectionary insists that the reading from Acts must be used as either the first or second lesson.  If it is used as the first lesson, then the second lesson must be 1 Corinthians 15:1-11.  We are also offered a choice of gospel passages: the alternative is John 20:1-18.]

Theme:  Multiple choices here, none of which can adequately cover the wonder of Easter Day.  The phrase that keeps coming to me is "The Glory of the Risen Lord", so I'm going with that.

Introduction.  These readings need no introduction, do they?  However, here's a brief one.  We begin with Isaiah because no one does the Good News better than him.  While tastes have changed – the menu in verse 6 doesn't do much for me – the rest of this passage is great fare!  If you are thinking of getting another tattoo this year what about having the words "He will swallow up death forever" displayed on your most prominent feature?  Or at least stick that phrase on your fridge, computer or bathroom mirror (whichever one you spend most time looking at).  On a calmer note, the reading from Acts is a lovely reminder of the historical stream in which we stand today, which has it source in the simple but astonishing fact that "God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear".  And, for me, the gospel account that best captures the reality of that simple but astonishing fact is Mark's: verse 8 just screams authenticity!

Background.  From the earliest days the great wisdom of the Church has been to treat the death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ as one continuous event.  Thus the "Triduum", beginning on the evening of Maundy Thursday and concluding with the joyous celebrations of Easter morn, is the core of all Christian worship throughout the year.  We have been reminded over recent weeks that whenever Jesus referred to his coming death he coupled it with his resurrection, and we should do the same.  It grieves me that church attendance is often so much lower on Maundy Thursday and Good Friday than on Easter Day: we will know that we are making progress in growing disciples instead of mere church attenders when there are as many people commemorating the Lord's Passion as there are celebrating his resurrection.

And while on this particular hobby-horse, I can't resist urging those responsible for the liturgical observances on Thursday and Friday to remember the importance of "ending" them in silence, with no formal or informal words of dismissal.  And, please, NO cuppa (with or without hot-cross buns) on Good Friday: all fellowship with God and with one another is broken by Jesus' death on the cross.  Can we not suffer that for a few hours – and then enter even more joyously into its restoration on Sunday?

I have been pondering two stories that seem to me to illustrate the tension between Good Friday and Easter Day.  In the world of today it is never very difficult to find horror stories that capture the tone of Good Friday.  This year we have entered Holy Week with the sheer blood-freezing horror of the plane crash in the French Alps fresh in our hearts and minds.  Any plane crash, with its high likelihood of multiple deaths, is bad enough, whether caused by mechanical fault, human error, atrocious weather conditions, or a combination of those factors.  A deliberate attack, whether by terrorists or careless defence forces, adds an extra layer of horror to it.  But in this case – what can we say?  To learn that this crash was caused by the deliberate act of the co-pilot – that for eight minutes he sat in the cockpit breathing calmly, knowing that he had put the plane on a descent path that would lead, over 8 minutes, to total destruction on a mountain, seems to defy any attempt to put into words the horror of it all.

At some stage all of those 149 other people, including the captain and crew, must have known what was about to happen to them – that there was no escape, nothing that anyone could do.  The Voice Recorder picked up their screams through the locked cockpit door.  Perhaps drowned out by those screams, some surely were praying.  And what more appropriate than the cry Jesus gave from his cross:  "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?"  It is the unanswerable question of every Good Friday – whether on a cross at Golgotha or in a doomed plane over the French Alps.

Until it is answered by God on Easter morning.  So where are the Easter Day stories that somehow answer for us the horrors of our Good Friday stories?  Individual acts of kindness – or even of bravery – never seem quite huge enough to put alongside mass torturing and killings.  We need something, not to wipe out the pain caused by evil, but to put evil in its place – to show that evil is much smaller than we think – to overshadow it and dwarf it – in Isaiah's phrase, to "swallow it up".  Where can we find such a story?

I found one that comes close for me in last Saturday's ODT Weekend Mix, under the title Bottles in the Cosmic Ocean.  It is the astonishing story of two spaceships, Voyager 1 and Voyager 2, which were launched on 20 August and 5 September 1972 on what were supposed to be four-year missions, and are still travelling and sending back data 38 years later!  The thrust of the article (no pun intended) is to marvel at the ingenuity and dedication of the men and women who have worked on the programme (some of them from the very beginning), even turning down more lucrative job offers along the way.  And there is certainly much to admire at this human level.

But what I found so marvellous is the description of the enormity of creation, as numbers piled up on others to dazzle the brain and silence the tongue, except for splutterings of praise and worship.  The spacecraft have been travelling at 60,000 kph for the last 38 years; that is, they are travelling at something like a million miles each day!  Voyager 1 is now about 12 billion miles from earth, way beyond Pluto.  It is so far away that a message from earth, travelling at the speed of light, takes 17 hours to reach it.  And just when I thought I was beginning to get some idea of the enormity of our solar system the writer of the article turned his attention to the future of these crafts: By 2036 the craft will be nearly out of the solar system altogether and will remain dead, although in perfect condition, probably for eternity.

In other words, continuing to travel about 1 million miles every day it will take the crafts another 21 years or so to be completely out of our solar system!  How great is that!  That is why we start the Creed with our belief in God the Creator.  That is why, even in the depths of Good Friday, as we look in horror at the cross, we know that the victim on the cross is the One through whom ALL THINGS WERE MADE.  Truly we may sing "All heav'n declares the glory of the risen Lord."!  Death (Evil), where now is your sting?

Isaiah 25:6-9.  No doubt Isaiah has in mind the covenant banquet of Exodus 24:11.  That was enjoyed by the elders on behalf of the people.  But the banquet Isaiah sees in his vision is for all people – in fact, all peoples – not just the tribal or religious or political elites.  This is no Davos or other international gathering of self-important people – this is the feeding of the multitude made universal.  And not just the basic needs to assuage hunger – this is a celebratory feast with the extravagant God as host.  And, of course, there is more.  The poet in Isaiah cannot resist the play on words: it is not only food and wine that will be swallowed up on this mountain, but death itself.  The tears of all will be wiped away, and the exclamation will resound, on Easter Day and every day, "This is the Lord for whom we have waited; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation."

Taking It Personally.

• How do you feel as you enter into the Three Days?  Are you able to walk slowly through the whole death-resurrection process, or are you too busy with other things?
• Are you more inclined to give priority to Easter Sunday than to Good Friday?  Why?
• Do you agree or disagree that in some way the story of the Voyager space-craft belongs alongside the story of the crashed plane?  Does it in anyway "answer" the question in the sort of way that God "answers" Job?
• Reflect on some of your "Good Friday" times, when you have felt abandoned by God.  Who or what has brought you through them?
• Which word or phrase in this lesson "speaks" to you most directly at this time?  Stay with it and seek to learn what the Spirit is saying to you through that word or phrase.

 

Acts 10:34-43.  Another passage stressing the universal reach of God's saving work; and for that reason we more often hear this passage in the context of the former Jew-Gentile divide.  But what is important in this passage this week is its clear evidence that a belief in the resurrection of Jesus is absolutely fundamental to the Christian proclamation, and has been from the very beginning.   Peter stresses that just as he and the others were witnesses of what Jesus said and did during his earthly life, so in the same way were they witnesses of his appearances to them after his resurrection, and even ate and drank with him after his resurrection, just as they had before his death.  Verse 37 is particularly important: "That message spread throughout Judea, beginning in Galilee after the baptism that John announced".  What message is that?  That Jesus Christ is Lord of all.  No ifs, no buts, no politically correct compromises.  That is the message that Peter and the others were proclaiming; that is the message that has been passed down through the ages to us; and that is the message – the only message – we are to proclaim to others today.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• Did that last bit grate?  Why?
• Are you more inclined to "edit" the message, than to proclaim it, to make it more acceptable to others or to yourself?
• If someone asks you what Easter means to you, what would you say?
• Do you ever feel like throwing something at the TV when even the weather man makes silly remarks about Easter bunny having a good day for a picnic in your region?

 

Mark 16:1-8.  As a good example of Mark's realism, pay careful attention to the timing in this drama.  It starts at sundown on Saturday evening "when the Sabbath was over".  At that point the women went shopping for the spices they would need to anoint the Lord's body; then they returned home and went to bed.  Why didn't they go straight to the tomb and get on with it?  Presumably, because it was dark.  So when did they go?  "Very early on the first day of the week (Sunday), when the sun had risen".  Matthew and Luke say it was at the break of dawn, but John said it "was still dark".  Who is most likely to be right?  The women were typically practical – even while they were on the way they were wondering how they could get help to remove the stone from the entrance to the tomb.  They needn't have worried: someone had already moved it.  They entered the tomb, and saw "a young man" dressed in white, who gave them the startling news.  "So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid."  Almost certainly, that's where this gospel originally ended, before the Church's spin doctors and PR men got hold of it.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• Stay with the story.  Let it soak in.  Be grabbed by its essential truth.
• Put yourself in their shoes?  What would you have done?
• What will you do about it now?

 

Palm Sunday

March 29                    NOTES FOR REFLECTION                         Palm Sunday

Texts: Isaiah 50:4-9a; Philippians 2:5-11; Mark 14:1-15:47

Theme: This will very much depend on the practice of your local faith community.  The annual dilemma of having Passion Sunday and Palm Sunday effectively rolled into one means that insufficient attention is given to "The Triumphal Entry".  However, the value of reading the entire Passion narrative as the overture to Holy Week is immense.  Take your pick.  Probably the theme should be "The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ".  But for these Notes, focusing more on the Entry into Jerusalem, I'm going for "The Great Intruder".

Introduction.  Isaiah sets the tone for all that is to come in the next few days, but begins in a very interesting place: the gifts of a teacher are an articulate tongue and a listening ear, and the courage to keep teaching no matter what opponents may do in response.  Undergirding all that is faith in God who will vindicate the teacher.  [Clue: Jesus was known as "Rabbi" (Teacher) and was ultimately put to death for his teaching and his refusal to stop.]  The second lesson has a sting in the head instead of the more usual tail.  "Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus" – that is, the mind of humility, of a total dedication to the needs of others, and an acceptance of the consequences up to and including death on a cross.  How all this plays out in practice is the subject of "The Passion of Our Lord Jesus Christ according to St Mark".

Background.  If we were to focus our attention on the so-called "Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem" what would we make of it?  How might we describe it?  What might it remind us of?  A street parade for a successful sports team returning in triumph with the much-coveted trophy, perhaps?  A graduation parade through the streets of Dunedin?  A cross-between Mardi Gras and St Patrick's Day celebrations?  Whatever image comes to mind the central question remains the same: what is Jesus doing there?  What, in other words, is the point of Palm Sunday from the perspective of our faith as Christians?

The more I pondered this question the more a curious idea kept coming to me: Jesus is the Great Intruder.  But what could that mean?

Well, let's step back a bit and think of what is happening this weekend.  It is unlikely that those who scheduled the dates of the Cricket World Cup gave much thought to the religious significance of next Sunday, but there it is: the cup final is to be played on Palm Sunday.  Equally, the Prime Minister, in fixing the date for the Northland by-election, probably did not consider the date of Palm Sunday when choosing the date of the by-election, but the fact is that it is to be held on the eve of Palm Sunday.  So somewhere in between those two events – both of great interest to many of us within and outside the church – Jesus arrives at the Holy City riding on a donkey.  Does that matter?  Do we notice?  Do we care?  Or is the outcome of the by-election or the cricket final of far greater interest to us?  And when I say "us" let's be clear that I mean "Christians".  Do we welcome our Lord into all circumstances of our lives, or do we sometimes feel that he is intruding?  Is Jesus The Great Intruder?

Two unrelated stories added layers to this pondering this week.  The first was an article in this week's ODT World Focus from Sweden about the controversial Foreign Minister Margot Wallstrom.  It seems that Sweden is the world's 12^th biggest arms exporter, and one of its most important clients is Saudi Arabia.  Under a defence accord between the two countries Swedish firms had made $NZ758 million in 2011-14, but Sweden has now cancelled it because of Saudi Arabia's record on human rights, specifically its attitude towards women, and its recent sentencing of a blogger to a thousand lashes.  Far from being penitent, Ms Wallstrom is quoted as saying: "I won't back down over my statements on women's rights, democracy and that one shouldn't flog bloggers."  It does not appear that Ms Wallstrom is motivated be any religious faith – her principles are based on classic human rights grounds – but the result is the same.  She is accused of intruding into the business interests of Sweden.

Of particular interest to me was the little paragraph towards the end of the article suggesting that one consequence of her stand may be that Sweden will "fail to win enough votes to be a rotating member of the United Nations Security Council".  Dear me!  How naive this woman must be to upset the business and political elite of her day by insisting on human rights for all, women as well as men, Saudis as well as Swedes.  History tells us that it is not those who claim to be Christians who end up on the cross: it is those who follow Christ's teaching, whether knowingly or not.

The second thing that caught my attention this week was the priority given in news bulletins to the Black Caps' win in the Cup semi-final over all other items of news.  So after several minutes of interviews with people who were related to Grant Elliott, or had been at school with him, or knew someone who had once danced with someone who knew his mother (okay I made that last one up), we learned that a plane had crashed in the French Alps with the loss of all 150 people on board, including two babies and a party of German school children returning from a school trip.  Did anyone in the various newsrooms consider for one moment that the tragic loss of so many lives was more important than Grant Elliott's heroics?  Would it have been different if the plane had crashed in New Zealand, with the loss of 150 New Zealanders?  And, if so, why?

Jesus, the Great Intruder, arrives at the city gates.  Everyone in the city is busy gearing up for a trading bonanza – accommodation, and all other goods and services, are literally at a premium.  The city fathers are drooling in anticipation – an event like this can pour millions into the local economy.  The Temple staff are rushing to make last minute arrangements – the moneylenders, the providers of animals and birds for sacrifice, the priests and Levites, the Temple guards and others in the security business; all have their plans in place.

Not now, Jesus!  Not while the city is busy.  Not while the votes are being counted!  Not while the cricket's on!

Isaiah 50:4-9.  The third of the so-called Servant Songs emphasises the suffering that the Servant will undergo for his faithfulness to God.  The only previous reference to this came in 49:7.  As noted above, it seems to start in a rather strange place, but verse 4 is to be understood as a response to the Lord's complaints in the preceding verses, especially in verse 2: Why was no one there when I came?  Why did no one answer when I called?  Israel has given up on the Lord, turned away from him, no longer sure of God's love for them or his willingness to come to their aid.  The Servant is everything Israel isn't.  When God calls he listens.   He hears God's word day by day and teaches it to others.  He suffers for his obedience: Israel suffers for its disobedience.  He is convinced of the lord's love for him, nearness to him, and willingness to protect and vindicate him.  Far from being cowed by the abuse he suffers he is emboldened and challenges his accusers to bring it on.  They will not prevail.

Taking It Personally.

• The first challenge is to start each day in listening prayer.  Do you?
• Are you a listener?  Are you more likely to listen than to speak?  Do you really "hear what the Spirit is saying to the Church", or does your mind wander off while the lessons are being read in the service?
• Do you have "the tongue of a teacher"?    If so, do you use it for that purpose?  If you do not have such a tongue, what sort of tongue do you have?  Do you most often use it to build up or knock down, to encourage or belittle?  Do you have the tongue of a wise person or a critic?  Are you in control of your tongue or does it get away from you on occasions?
• Have you ever suffered because of your faith?  If someone criticises your faith, how do you respond?

 

Philippians 2:6-11.  This great hymn of the Lord's humility is one of the more famous passages in St Paul's writings, on a par with his great ode to love in 1 Corinthians 13 but probably not as much loved.  It's too scary to be popular.  It visualises the Son of God in free-fall.  He starts from heaven and falls down and then further down.  He sets aside his divine status to become fully human; in terms of human society he takes the lowest possible status, that of a slave; and then accepts in death the status of a convicted felon under God's curse.  In a world where upward mobility is promoted as the way to the good life, Jesus embodies downward mobility in its most extreme form.  That is the only way to honour and glory in God's kingdom.  And, we are told at the start of this passage, we should have the same mindset on this matter as Christ did.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• This passage is particularly good preparation for Good Friday.  Read it slowly, preferable aloud, each day from now until then.  Let it soak into you.
• Let it challenge any element of pride, ambition or envy that may be in you.  Use it for a spiritual stock-take as you enter Holy Week.
• Spend some time in prayer, repeating the mantra "Jesus Christ is Lord".  In what way is it true that Jesus is the lord of your life?

 

The Passion of our Lord Jesus Christ according to St Mark.  Hopefully you belong to a faith community where the whole story (from 14:1 through to 15:47) will be read on Sunday, and read well.  Listen to it as carefully and intently as you can – not with your brain but with your heart.  Don't let your brain side-track you with clever ideas, or questions, or speculations.  Enter into the whole journey step by step.  Hear the plotting and mutterings, and the fear, among the religious elite as the Festival draws near.

 

Go with Jesus to Bethany: watch as the woman approaches Jesus and anoints him.  Hear the uproar this causes, even as you smell the sweet perfume of the nard.  See the expression on Jesus' face as he accepts her love, and his change of expression as he rebukes her critics.  Be aware of your feelings as you hear of Judas' betrayal.  Walk on through the practical interlude as the mundane details for the Passover meal are made, and the shocking disclosure that Jesus makes to his disciples that one of their own number is about to betray him.  Hear the protestations of them all.

 

Listen to the blessed words of the Eucharist, immediately followed by the hollow bluster of Peter.  How well Jesus knows him!  Spend time with Jesus in Gethsemane and enter into his anxiety and personal struggle.  Watch as he is arrested and subjected to trumped-up charges before the ruling council. Stand in the cold dark court-yard and hear Peter's fear as he denies even knowing Jesus, and hear that awful crowing of the cock.

 

As the darkness gives way to morning, follow again as Jesus is brought before Pilate,  Watch as that hapless man gives up what little shred of conscience he might still have had in favour of a quiet life.    Hear the mocking cries of the lynch mob.

 

And walk on to the cross.  Watch the final acts of barbarism inflicted on Jesus' shattered body.  Wait at the cross until death ends his torment.

 

THEN TAKE IT ALL VERY PERSONALLY INDEED.

 

Passion Sunday

March 22                    NOTES FOR REFLECTION                          Passion Sunday

Texts: Jeremiah 31:31-34; Hebrews 5:5-10; John 12:20-33

Theme: Something about journey's end, perhaps, as we are now but a week away from Jerusalem.  But how to capture all that in one short phrase?  Perhaps "All that Lies Ahead", or "No Turning Back Now" may capture some of the expectancy/dread of this time.  Something more theological might be "The Mystery of Our Faith" or "The Secret Now Revealed".  Last week, I think, I suggested "Lift High the Cross": we might follow that this week with "Lift High the Son of Man".  Finally, we could try a bit of bi-lingualism: "Crux Probat Omnia" (The Cross proves Everything), which I've shamelessly pinched from Richard Rohr.

[Note: Before I forget, we might want to give some thought to the fact that this year the Feast of The Annunciation of our Saviour to the Blessed Virgin Mary falls between Passion Sunday and Palm Sunday.  It brought to my mind the words of Simeon to Mary at The Presentation.  Just a thought.]

Introduction.  I'm not sure that our first lesson from Jeremiah is the happiest of choices for Passion Sunday – it would seem better suited to Maundy Thursday or Pentecost – but there we are.  God announces a fundamental change from external guidance by others to internal knowledge by all.  (The Teacher becomes the Holy Spirit.)  The lesson from the Letter to the Hebrews is also about transformation: the Suffering Servant becomes the Great High Priest.  And to continue this line of thought, in our gospel reading "the Son of Man" becomes "I" (Jesus).

Background.  Last week I mentioned that Trish had drawn my attention to Richard Rohr's reflection on the practice of "gazing" at Christ on the Cross – the practice of looking to a crucifix for healing – in chapter 9 of his book Things Hidden: Scripture as Spirituality.  The whole chapter (in fact, the whole book) is brilliant, and it's impossible to do it justice in just one short quote.  But the following is specifically on the point I raised about the use of the crucifix in comparison with the "Snake-on-a Stick" story in the Book of Numbers.  With John 19:37 in focus (which quotes from Zechariah 12:10 – "They will look on the one whom they have pierced") Rohr writes this (at p.186):

Those who "gaze upon" the crucified long enough - with contemplative eyes – are always healed at deep levels of pain, unforgiveness, aggressivity and victimhood.  It demands no theological education at all, just an "inner exchange" by receiving the image within and offering one's soul back in safe return.  No surprise that C.G. Jung is supposed to have said that a naked man nailed to a cross is perhaps the deepest archetypal symbol in the Western psyche.

The crucified Jesus certainly is no stranger to human history either.  It offers, at a largely unconscious level, a very compassionate meaning system for history.  The mystery of the rejection, suffering, passion, death and raising up of Jesus is the interpretative key for what history means and where it is all going.  Without such cosmic meaning and soul significance, the agonies and tragedies of humanity feel like Shakespeare's "sound and fury signifying nothing".  The body can live without food easier than the soul can live without such meaning.

If all these human crucifixions are leading to some possible resurrection, and are not dead-end tragedies, this changes everything.  If God is somehow participating in human suffering, instead of just passively tolerating it and observing it, that also changes everything – at least for those who are willing to "gaze" contemplatively.

One of the most striking elements of Jesus' several references to his forthcoming death and resurrection lies for me in the absence of any explanation as to WHY the Son of Man must be handed over, mistreated, killed, etc; and nobody seems willing to ask him.  (It's rather like his somewhat unhelpful response to John in Matthew's version of Jesus' baptism: it is necessary because it is necessary.)  So it has been left to his followers, from St Paul onwards, to "explain" why Jesus had to die on the cross; and what a pig's breakfast they and we have made of it ever since.  What most of our "explanations" are really about is our own human nature projected onto God.  God, we say, is a God of Justice – and we usually say it a lot louder than we say "God is a God of Love".  Worse, we attribute to God the same understanding of "justice" as we have.  Our "Justice" is often little more than a scarcely disguised version of payback, utu, or tit-for-tat.

And so we have created for ourselves a God who demands that somebody be held accountable for the wrong done to him.  Why?  Because that's exactly what we want when somebody does harm to us.  That one false step leads us more and more into the extraordinary intricacies, contradictions and mind-numbing incoherencies of much of our theology surrounding the Cross.  From it all emerges a God (whom we often call "almighty"!) who is powerless by his very nature to accept the human race back into his presence without first sacrificing his own beloved Son!

All this to avoid the awful truth that on the Cross Jesus revealed to us that the only remedy for sin is love – that the only response to violence and wrongdoing of any kind is forgiveness – that the only way to take away the sin of the world is to die rather than commit it.  And, of course, what Jesus revealed on the Cross is not some sort of idea of his own – some last piece of teaching – what he was revealing on the Cross was the true nature of God.  God is NOT what we always took him to be, and still would like him to be in his dealings with other people.  God is a God who refuses to stop loving us whatever we do to him – even if we torture him and nail him to a cross.

Is that the God whom we see when we gaze at a crucifix?  A God who is lifted up so that all can see him as he really is?  A victim-God in whose image we are made, rather than a God of payback made in our own image?  Is that the God to whom we are all drawn?

St Peter writes (1 Peter 2:23-24): When he was abused, he did not return abuse; when he suffered, he did not threaten; but he entrusted himself to the one who judges justly.  He himself bore our sins in his body one the cross, so that free from sins, we might live for righteousness: by his wounds you have been healed.

Jeremiah 31:31-34:  In my NRSV chapter 31 is headed "The Joyful Return of the Exiles", and it's all about a fresh start.  It's a sort of early prototype of the Reformation – for good and ill!  Individualism is to the fore: the passage preceding this week's reading is sub-headed "Individual Retribution" (not a particularly helpful choice of words), but it signals a move away from the idea of being punished for the sins of our forefathers, and towards being accountable only for our own sins.  More positively, this week's passage foresees a time when all will "know God", and we will not need the instruction of others.  The age of "external spirituality" will give way to what today we might call an inner life.  A movement from head to heart – from "study about" to "experience of".  From Rabbi to the Spirit of Truth.  And do notice what will enable all this to come about: "for I will forgive their iniquity, and remember their sin no more."  True spirituality sprouts in the earth of forgiveness.

Taking It Personally. 

 

• Do you more easily experience God outwardly or inwardly?
• In what sense (if any) do you believe that God's law is written on your heart?  Is that a helpful or an unhelpful image for you?
• Are you at peace with God?  Do you truly feel forgiven?
• Have you experienced the joy of a returning exile, or have you never been away from God?

 

Hebrews 5:5-10.  There is sometimes a sense in reading or listening to the Letter to the Hebrews that the author is answering questions that we ourselves are not asking.  Clearly, one big issue in the circles in which he was mixing at the time was a grappling with a world in which the centre of their religious life – the Temple – was no more.  And their teachers were telling them that a temple is no longer required – it had been replaced, so to speak, by Christ.  What did that mean?  What was the relationship between the Temple and Christ?  And rather like the process of trying to "explain" the necessity of Jesus' death on the cross, the Letter to the Hebrews shows some signs of the way in which an answer to one question seems only to lead to a new question.  This week's passage seems to focus on the practice of religion, not merely in the absence of the Temple, but also in the absence of a priesthood.  Don't we need priests any longer?  The answer is that Christ is now our Great High Priest.  How did that come about?  In the same way that any other High Priest has taken office, through God's call.  But, of course, Christ does not belong to the "ordinary" order of priests: he is "a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek".  This takes us right back, of course, to Abraham – and perhaps to an echo of Jesus' saying: "Before Abraham was, I am."

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• Perhaps for us the important verses are 7-9.  Ponder them slowly and deeply.  Ask the Spirit to lead you deeper into their truth.
• In verse 7 there is a description of Jesus' prayers.  How do they compare with your own?
• In verse 8 Jesus "learned obedience through what he suffered".  What do you make of that?  In times of suffering do you feel closer to, or farther away from, God?

 

 John 12:20-33.  As so often is the case with passages taken from this gospel, it is almost impossible to summarise this one.   It seems to start off with some surprisingly mundane detail, as if set in the bureaucratic corridors of power.  Jesus, the one who was accessible to all, now has a series of gatekeepers filtering his visitors.  Go to Philip; if he's okay with you, he'll check with Andrew, and if you get another "yes" from him the two of them will take your request to Jesus.  It is usually said that the arrival of some Greeks is taken by Jesus to be confirmation that his hour has come because it signifies the start of the in-gathering of the Gentiles, a sure sign of the End of the Age.  Would that have not been the case if they had come directly to Jesus instead of through a couple of intermediaries?  Then follows the nearest Jesus comes to an "explanation" of why he must die, with his analogy of the seed falling to the ground; followed by the familiar assertion that to be a servant of his we must follow him.  That this is no easy choice is immediately made clear by Jesus' own emotional turmoil, the nearest this gospel comes to the agony in Gethsemane.  Then comes the voice from heaven, and we recall his baptism and his transfiguration.  In the first case the voice addresses him and no one else hears it; in the second the voice addresses the three disciples with him.  This time "the crowd standing there" heard something, but were unsure what.  Those who have ears to hear, let them hear.  Perhaps the most interesting verse is 32: "And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself."  The mask of talking about himself in the third person (as the Son of Man) has suddenly fallen away: cf. verse 23.  The explanatory note in verse 33 seems absurdly unnecessary.

 

Taking It Personally.

 

• Spend more time "gazing upon" a crucifix or a picture of Jesus on the cross.  Don't rush it, and don't try to have any profound thoughts. Just stay focused on it for as long as you can.  Repeat daily up to and including Good Friday.

• On Holy Saturday spend time reminding yourself that it is THAT death into which you entered through baptism, and that all is now over for you.

• On Easter Day enter into the joy of resurrection with thanksgiving and praise, for you have been raised up with him!