Lent: Easter Sunday - Say hello

The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptised, you will be baptised” Mark 10:39

He is not here; he has risen, just as he said. Come and see the place where he lay.  Matthew 28:6

The empty tomb and the folded gravecloths

‘He is not here, he is risen’. jesus’ leaving behind his folded gravecloths provides a poignant goodbye and hello. Jesus says ‘hello’ to the next stage in his own journey, strides towards a new life, a new space, for him. The resurrected man continues with his wounds, carries the marks of his death forward.

We follow in his wake, drinking his cup, being baptised into his death and raised into a new life. His pattern is now our pattern in life, ushering us to and across various thresholds with guides, rituals and images. Guides such as remember oneness, let go and say hello. Associated rituals such as bread and wine, the prone Jesus image in La Pieta, and the image of the empty tomb and folded gravecloths can play their part in practically meditatively moving us on and towards a new stage and shape to our lives. 

Lent: Holy Saturday - Let go

When Joseph had taken the body, he wrapped it in a clean linen cloth, and laid it in his new tomb which he had hewn out of the rock; and he rolled a large stone against the door of the tomb, and departed. And Mary Magdalene was there, and the other Mary, sitting opposite the tomb. Matthew 27:59-61

Jesus’s real purpose in this sacrifice was to wager his own life against his core conviction that love is stronger than death, and that the laying down of self which is the essence of this love leads not to death, but to life. . . . Thus, the real domain of the Paschal Mystery is not dying but dying-to-self. (Center for Action and Contemplation)

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

The practicalities and the paradox of living

I have often read that good spirituality is all about letting go, that we must learn to die before we die. These words have struck me, however reluctantly, as wise words, as fundamental to the quality of life that we may experience. The new can’t be experienced without the old in some shape or form falling away. The poet Robert Frost (I think) echoes this too with his line, ‘we live by shedding’. I can’t think of a better reminder of this than the self-emptying acts of Jesus, of which this is but one example.

In this sculpture Jesus’ raised hand indicates in the middle of death that this end is not the whole story. He seems to be connecting with, or encouraging in, his mother a recognition of a path, of the ebb and flow of giving and letting go. Not only her, but his disciples and through on to us.

‘Every new beginning is the child of an ending it did not think it would survive.’ (Anon)

Lent: Good Friday - Remember oneness

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptised, you will be baptised” Mark 10:39

Durham Cathedral, The Last Supper Table by Colin Wilbourn

Final Sunday Passion liturgy : Luke 22

“I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer”  

And he took bread, gave thanks and broke it, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my body given for you; do this in remembrance of me.” (Luke 22:15,19)

An antidote to the illusion of separation

It is not recorded what the disciples thought of this turn of events, as recorded in Luke 22. Knowing what was to befall, final messages to give, Jesus chooses to distribute and disperse himself.

As I ponder the Lord’s Supper again it is not so much thanks for Jesus sacrifice, or the adoration it may evoke, the story it usefully retells as much as it is the regular opportunity to be reminded of, and physically chew on, the 'illusion of separation' that stands out.

We are one. I am in you, you are in me, be like me. Let me descend to your very centre, to the pit of your stomach in fact! What the sacrifice points to, what we are to remember perhaps, is this closeness, this ‘ no separation’ message, that we need to hear so frequently and deeply. This is that bodily sense of interiority, of union. Active participation and positive reaffirmation is on the table. Injest oneness, simply.

Lent : Palm Sunday - What does the kingdom of God look like?

Images: Jesus entry into Jerusalem (fragments), Duccio.

6th Sunday in lent: Luke 19:28-40

What type of Kingdom do I expect?

Our context here is the iconic Jerusalem and people have gathered thinking that the kingdom of God is going to appear. The sense of expectancy in Duccio’s painting is palpable. Jesus has just come from naming the tax collector Zaccheus as ’a son of Abraham too’ and giving his life investment parable (of the Minas or Talents) which drew out distorted perceptions on kingship. This, the following passage, concludes with Jesus’ lament over Jerusalem, at what would befall it because they did not recognise ‘the time of God’s coming to you.’

Of course the kingdom in one sense had at that time already come. It was there and then, under their noses, described, dispensed and enacted by Jesus. Its object (to seek and save the lost) and character (humble, empowering and gracious) were not recognised. The contrast with the merciless master depicted in the Minas/Talents parable is pointedly made and seems to bear frequent contemporary repetition. Here I call on an observation by a Michael Spencer:

“Jesus is not an unreasonable and merciless master so we do not have to take the ridiculously extravagant amount of grace and life he’s given and “play it safe”. We can take it and go out to take risks, do things that appear foolish in the eyes of the world, and attempt great things. We can risk failing and, yes, even fail. Because Jesus is THAT sort of master–generous, merciful, supplying more that we could possibly need. He’s not counting pennies at the end of the day and looking to find fault.”

Beginning again

Sometimes we will need to stick our head above the parapet, as Jesus does here. He enters Jerusalem allowing himself finally to be hailed as King but displaying visually his terms and type of kingship. It was not what was expected, in fact his point was largely missed or not recognised. What kind of kingdom and King am I expecting, still? Jesus was inviting and expecting his disciples to stand for, enjoy and enact this type of kingdom (not another or any other) - one marked by generosity of spirit, inclusion and mercy.

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice

- From The Journey, Mary Oliver

We are invited to enter the Kingdom of God, to be born again, to begin again. What’s on the other side of this threshold?

Lent: Loving attentiveness

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, where Lazarus lived, whom Jesus had raised from the dead…Mary took about a pint of pure nard, an expensive perfume; she poured it on Jesus’ feet and wiped his feet with her hair. And the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. John 12:1,3

Frida Bredesen, unsplash.com

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

Simple acts: essence and choice

One of my kids yearns for a simple lifestyle, one that is reduced of ‘stuff’. I wonder what he thinks of the world he has come into and been shown - what does he see that I present, promote or collude with? He also likes and is in awe with rock climbing, life reduced to a focused moment and a single handhold. This desire of his informs his study and shapes his career choices going forward.

John’s account of Mary anointing Jesus with oil is to me a story of essence and of choices: letting go of what doesn't matter, giving oneself completely to what we identify as does matter.

I used to play 5 a side football. I unashamedly admit that it was the highlight of my week, for this very reason, I think. It may have resulted in a different pungency to Mary’s nard but the act was simple and unadulterated. Don't we all need space in which to, using Mary Oliver’s words in her poem Wild Geese:

Let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.

Prayer has been described as loving attentiveness. Is there room in us to learn and respect what the body and the soul love and so need?

Lent: Coming to our senses

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father's have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! Luke 15:17

Seeing what is

In this parable it is said of the prodigal son “he came to himself” (15:17).

Franciscan Richard Rohr writes of rituals which typically are meant to startle us, wake us up even. I know that sense of sleep walking and the need to somehow wake up and return to myself or recover some sense of being present to what is: to some limitation, physical or otherwise, for example and the necessary and full engagement with it.

The prodigal’s poorly planned and executed journey, reminded me of a recent impromptu trip. I reflected on my defensiveness about my decision making yet nonetheless received some recompenses. One of them was a bearded outdoorsman looming large, fiery beard foremost, from an outsize Costwolds poster. He was attributed with these words:

“The outdoors provides me with the mental bandwidth I need to transition from all of the work and daily life, into a space where I am more myself”

He needed the outdoors. But what do I need, what do you need, to transition, through day and life, into a space where your true self can be enabled, where we can come to our senses.

Some times all it takes
is a walk around the lake

- Ari J Picker

News that calls for pause and reflection

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

Now there were some present at that time who told Jesus about the Galileans whose blood Pilate had mixed with their sacrifices. Jesus answered, "Do you think that these Galileans were worse sinners than all the other Galileans because they suffered this way? I tell you, no! But unless you repent, you too will all perish. Luke 13:1-3

The case for a deep re-think

Disaster, ill-fortune, malice. Elsewhere Jesus will talk about justice, compassion and impartiality when facing this trio, but in this instance he may be observing, in a blunt and imploring fashion, something else. Among whatever reflections there are over this piece of Galilean news or any more contemporary ones that come to mind, one must be this: hold your life as it is, seriously and as a gift. Do what you need to do to live it now and with consideration and intention. Think again, deeply, carefully and radically if you have to.

The poetry of Mary Oliver often with subtlety and grace cuts to the chase. In The Summer Day Oliver ponders on prayer, kneels in the grass, and reflects on her ‘idle and blessed’ strolling through fields and asks, Tell me, what else should I have done?

And then echoing Luke 13 she adds…

Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?

Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?

Healing and freedom: Threshold experiences

Today and tomorrow

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

"Go tell that fox, 'I will keep on driving out demons and healing people today and tomorrow, and on the third day I will reach my goal.’ Luke 13:32

This is Jesus’ next step and the step after that, Jesus’ rejoinder to the Pharisees who come to him saying move on, Herod is out to get you . I easily forget the work of the Trinity is to heal, ours too. The surge of energy and intent in Jesus’s words is striking. This is offered today and is to be offered tomorrow and surely encourages us to take our first or next step.

You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in

From Sweet Darkness in The House of belonging, David Whyte

Baptism and starting afresh

Crossing over

“The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptised, you will be baptised” Mark 10:39

Our Lent introduction ended with questions about what helps when experiencing thresholds in faith and life…

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

The ‘good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God’, writes Mark, begins with baptism. Baptism in (or with) water and in (or with) promised fire and the Holy Spirit.

Jesus’s baptism is clearly a momentous occasion for him, signalling some change and climaxing with the charged and emotive words ‘you are my Son, whom I love’. I wonder how much his baptism allows him to move from one explicit identity and into another. How might the physical ritual, this spiritual act, have enabled him or propelled him to transition well?

I suspect that we are born for fresh starts, again and again. Some natural coming and going, some challenge, some dawning awareness. Fresh starts which clear away what ever crud has accumulated, whatever has weighed us down or distracted us. I suspect that physical practices and metaphors, such as visceral and imaginative baptism, can help us move through our inner and outer worlds, with their shifts and currents.

I am struck anew that repentence (another portal) is the invitation to think again and so begin afresh. Using both words together in one phrase ‘baptism of repentence’ appears to be making a big double statement about the flexibility and suppleness that are necessary in and for faith and life.

A threshold is a place of coming and going. A threshold is a frontier that challenges us to cross over or return. At a frontier we have to declare our identity. We may choose not to venture further and instead return home; or we may cross over on to a new awareness, a new dimension of reality.

Inner journey, outer journey, James Roose-Evans, Priest and Theatre Director

PS They say Don’t despise the day of small beginnings - maybe its just don’t despise beginnings, maybe it’s let’s not be afraid of starting afresh, or be surprised by its re-occurrence.

Lent 2019 reflections: Taking the next step

Being born again, and again

Jesus says we need to be born again (and again, so the tense suggests). He is simply stating a necessity perhaps, saying it as it is. If we wish to live freely and expansively we must it seems learn to die or diminish, take some risks.

There is the journey to the door, then the pausing at the threshold, making a decision; and finally, the crossing over in to the other region, or else returning to base.  Barbara Hepworth

In our lives, as with Jesus, questions and requests, shrouded in life events, propel us into moments where we have to pause, to decide and to cross over or return. 

This Lent we will journey through such moments in Jesus’ life.  We will look for what is offered, what may help in the journey to and through such thresholds in our own faith and life. 

What metaphor or question may we inhabit?  What way or request may we follow?

“The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptised, you will be baptised” Mark 10:39