Preferring Nothing to Christ

Second Sunday of Easter

John 20:19-31

There’s nothing worse than being with a group of people who are talking about an experience that you haven’t had. There’s only so far that you can go in trying to understand what they are saying and feeling. It’s easy for me to understand how Thomas might be feeling when the disciples say that Jesus has risen and that they have seen him. I feel I have a lot in common with Thomas. I am more at home with things that are enfleshed and concrete than theories and abstractions. It has always struck me that Jesus says to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here; look, here are my hands. Give me your hand; put it into my side. Doubt no longer but believe.’ this is as much a challenge as it is a comfort. Thomas now has the choice to live in the light of the resurrected Christ or to walk away and find a different path.

I love these lines from Godhead Here in Hiding and they always come to mind when I hear today’s Gospel.

I am not like Thomas, wounds I cannot see,
But I plainly call thee Lord and God as he:
This faith each day deeper be my holding of,
Daily make me harder hope and dearer love.

Whether we need concrete assurance or are happy to take things on trust, the invitation is the same: live in the light of the resurrection.

Let’s pray that as Eastertide folds we can find ways to ‘harder hope and dearer love.’

Easter Saturday

Mark 16:9-15

Writing these few words didn’t come easily to me today. After the intimacy of Mary’s encounter at the tomb with Jesus and then the breakfast on the seashore, today’s Gospel text feel abrupt. It reads as a recap of themes we’ve heard during the week: refusal of the disciples to believe, the journey of the two disciples and Jesus making himself known ‘at table.’ The first hearers of this Gospel will have been challenged by the theme of disbelief in these verses. Faith in the resurrection wasn’t as solid as we might imagine. Those first hearers had their commitment tested.

‘And he said to them, ‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation.’

This last verse of today’s text echoes the beginning of Mark’s Gospel; ‘Repent and believe the Good News.’ Things have come full circle. To believe in the Good News means to believe in the resurrection. Implicit in this believe is a call evangelise in word and deed. We are to be Christ’s resurrected life for the world.

How can you live the resurrection today?

Easter Friday

John 21:1-14

Just after my A levels I was able to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. Our visit to the Sea of Tiberias stands out for me as a time of grace. In what was a fairly packed itinerary, there was suddenly time to sit and watch the water. It was a relief after the noise and heat of Jerusalem.

When the disciples decide to go fishing they are going back to the thing that they know best. They’ll either catch something or they won’t. I imagine that there was a certain relief in knowing this. But this turns out to be no ordinary fishing trip. First of all, the disciples take fishing advice from a stranger and then he cooks for them.

With his invitation of breakfast Jesus has made another space for intimacy with his closest followers. I like to imagine that they linger over this breakfast and perhaps watch as the morning light catches the water. There is such healing in doing something normal with friends.

Picture yourself in this scene. What do you notice? How do you feel?

Luke 24:35-48

This Gospel passage gives the impression that Jesus just appears among his disciples. They are startled and Jesus reassures them with his greeting of ‘Peace be with you.’ Understandably they think he is a ghost and he reassures them again: ‘Touch me and see for yourselves.’

If I imagine myself among the disciples I think I probably would have held back a little and waited to see if one of the other disciples did actually move forward and touch him. This is an intimate moment. Jesus doesn’t say, ‘Don’t get too close. This is my glorified body. Be careful.’ No, he wants his disciples to be close enough to touch him.

I’ve often been asked about death and resurrection and what happens when we die. My answer is always the same: Jesus is our model. He appears in flesh and blood. His body still bears the scars of his death. He can eat. He can cook.

Imagine Jesus saying to you; ‘Touch me and see for yourself.’

How do you respond?

Easter Wednesday

Luke 24:13-35

Luke paints the picture of the disciples at the end of an emotional journey where crucifixion has dashed their hopes. As they walk they talk to each other. There is a sense in which the journey is a time of healing as the disciples verbalise the experiences of the past days. A stranger joins them. Rather than intimidating, the presence of the stranger deepens the process as, for his benefit, they re-tell the story. With each step of the journey they are in fact moving closer towards Christ. We might imagine that their pace quickens as they talk about the things that they hold most dear.

‘Did not our hearts burn within us as he talked to us on the road and explained the Scriptures to us?’

This is one of my favourite lines from the story. The disciples have felt at the core of their being the power of God’s word. I would love to swap places with them and hear Jesus explain the Scriptures.

Are there verses of Scripture which make your heart burn within you?

Easter Monday

Matthew 28:8-15

‘Filled with awe and great joy the women came quickly away from the tomb and ran to tell the disciples.’

These words leapt out at me this morning. I went searching for a picture that would capture ‘awe and great joy’. I had to settle for depicting ‘joy’, but not before I had discounted many pictures of people leaping in the air!

The women have been reassured by an angel that that there is no need for them to be afraid. Jesus has risen as he said he would. I imagine this news filling every fibre of their being. It would be a very natural response to want run and bring this good news to the disciples as quickly as they could.

And where do you find yourself this Easter Monday? Are you leaping for joy? Are you running? Or are you cautiously joyful? Is your joy more slow-release?

Wherever you find yourself, Christ is there.

LAMENTATIONS OF THE PROPHET JEREMIAH

Holy Saturday is often spoken about as a day of ‘emptiness and numbness’. On one level this is true, but since entering the monastery I have discovered another dimension. On a day when you could feel out of sorts and not quite know what to do the for best, the framework of the monastic liturgy boundaries time and space for me. We begin the day with Office of Readings and listen to a text from the Lamentations of the Prophet Jeremiah. A cantor sings the descant line and the melody is played on a tenor recorder. It is a hauntingly beautiful combination. Every word is poignant.

‘The favours of the Lord are not all past,
nor his kindnesses exhausted;
every morning they are renewed;
‘My portion is the Lord’ says my soul,
‘and so I will hope in him.’

‘The Lord is good to those who trust him,
to the soul that searches for him.
It is good to wait in silence
for the Lord to save.‘

There’s tremendous comfort in knowing that the Lord’s kindnesses are not exhausted. There’s hope too in the knowledge that each day God’s love and faithfulness for each of us is renewed.

Can you bring to mind people in your own life who most need to hear these words?

Sometimes in the face of great sorrow and hardship all we can do is ‘wait in silence for the Lord to save.’

Can you pray these verses for someone you know to be suffering great hardship? Can you be the one who waits in silence with them?

Good Friday

Hebrews 4:14-16,5:7-9

Every piece of text in the Good Friday liturgy is heavy with meaning. Pieces of scripture that I may have heard throughout the year have a whole new resonance today. I found it hard to pick just one text. I settled on the text from Hebrews. In a series of fairly complicated chapters the writer wants us to understand that Jesus is our model. It’s that simple. The way in which Jesus lived, loved and worked is our model.

The writer of Hebrews doesn’t sugar coat things. Jesus learns to obey through suffering. This may not sit easily with us. My own instinct is usually to avoid suffering. I wouldn’t naturally associate this with a growth in obedience. It is usually after the event that I look at a period of suffering as a time of growth. Life in the monastery has taught that obedience is much more than keeping rules. It’s a type of deep listening where you confront your true self.

Commentators suggest the writer of Hebrews wants to suggest that Jesus learnt and developed during his life, just like us. On the cross Jesus’ learning is complete and he knows himself as Son. His whole life has pointed to this moment of obedience.

Have you learnt anything through suffering?

Maundy Thursday

John 13:1-15

Each year I am stuck by how much the liturgy invites us to engage our senses in Holy Week. We wave a palm branch, we hear the story of the anointing and can imagine the smell of the perfume filling the house, we picture the silver coins of betrayal and night as Judas leaves the Last Supper. When we reach Maundy Thursday we are invited to one of the most intimate rituals in our liturgical year. Bowls, jugs, water, feet, a kiss: here we see our servant King. Here Jesus embodies the kingdom. Every value is reversed. In one verse of Scripture we see the power of the Incarnation;

‘He got up from table, removed his outer garment and, taking a towel, wrapped it round his waist; he then poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel he was wearing’

got up,

removed,

taking,

wrapped,

poured,

wash,

wiped

The ritual of foot-washing always reminds me that there is a two-way dynamic of grace. There is the grace of the one who serves and the grace of the one who accepts the service. Our world needs both.

Can you have the grace both to serve and be served?

Wednesday of Holy Week

Matthew 26:14-25

Today we have Matthew’s telling of the Last Supper. Once again Judas is in full focus and his actions seem inevitable. Those thirty pieces of silver are lodged in our collective imagination through art, poetry and hymnody. You’ll even find a reminder of this in the Danish name for Honesty, Judas Penge (Judas’ money) and German, Judas Schilling.

Stories of betrayal are always uncomfortable. Betrayal can happen in a matter of seconds. We can say or do something that we can never take back. Perhaps Judas stands for all of our moments of betrayal? Perhaps he stands for all the times we have ‘headed out into the night’? Perhaps he stands for all those times we have watched our hope die and made a wrong choice?

Read the full text.

Notice the words and phrases which strike you.