In today’s gospel Jesus is brutally honest with his disciples. Having received Peter’s assertion of faith he takes he begins to talk about his own suffering and death. It’s not surprising that Peter remonstrates with him, it’s hardly what the disciples expected to hear. Having left everything to follow him they want to hear a message full of hope & reassurance. Instead Jesus brushes Peter aside, insisting that following him will include suffering, loss, challenge and conflict. Jesus is making it clear to his disciples that following him will not help them to avoid the suffering of life. On the contrary, he calls them to accept that suffering willingly, refusing to give into the temptations of avoidance and grumbling which can be so soul destroying. He says to them:
“‘If anyone wants to be a follower of mine, let them renounce themselves and take up their cross and follow me. Those who want to save their will lose it; but those who loses their lives life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.’”
His words turn all our expectations upside down, calling us to examine our actions. He challenges us to look honestly at the tactics we use to numb our pain instead of accepting it as part of life and as something we can, by the grace of God, grow through towards new life. Knowing human suffering from personal experience he offers us the hope of completely understanding our suffering, however unlikely that might sometimes appear.
He promises us that whatever sufferings we face in life he will be there with us, a compassionate, loving presence in even the darkest of times. While neither the hope nor the promise will remove the sufferings they offer a framework to encourage us to face them.
What cross is Christ calling you to take up today?
Category: Cross
In today’s gospel Jesus faces rejection by the people of his home town. It’s a familiar and understandable story. We often find it hard to recognise special qualities in people we perceive as just like us. So we find Jesus’ neighbours grumbling about him:
“Where did this man get all this? What is the wisdom that has been granted him, and these miracles that are worked through him?”
Unsettled and disturbed by the way Jesus challenges them they turn away from him, refusing to accept his message. Jesus’ response a is challenge:
“A prophet is only despised in his own country, among his own relations and in his own house.”
It’s a call to pay attention to what is going on around us. He challenges us to look again at what we might be missing. It’s a call to listen very specifically to those we prefer to avoid, to those who challenge us and make us feel uncomfortable.
His challenge has particular resonance for me as we face a new chapter in our national life. I find myself wondering how we can ensure that the voices of those we push to the margins can are heard and welcomed. We’re called to re-examine our preconceptions and ask ourselves what we need to put aside to open our hearts and minds to those voices. Jesus challenges us to take the risk of allowing ourselves to listen to those voices, and even to allow them to change our minds and our perceptions.
Who is Jesus challenging you to listen to today?
Today we’re celebrating the feast of Sts Thomas More and John Fisher. They lived in times that were brutal and frightening, full of betrayal and mistrust. As they faced their martyrdom the words of today’s gospel must have had a particular resonance for them:
“They will hand you over to be tortured and put to death; and you will be hated by all nations on account of my name.”
Neither these disturbing words nor their arrest, imprisonment nor martyrdoms distracted them from trusting in God’s love. They may have felt overwhelmed and frightened by their situation. They certainly wished it could have been different. Yet through it all they were able to keep hold of St Paul’s words to the Romans:
“We are filled with joyful trust in God, through our Lord Jesus Christ through whom we have already gained our reconciliation.”
The joyful trust Paul describes is easy when life is good. In those times it’s easy to believe that God’s love is poured out into our hearts. It’s not so easy in the reality of the world today, with all its terrors and uncertainties. The harshness of daily life can smother the love, joy and trust that are the heart of the gospel.
It’s when life is at its hardest and most challenging that we need that joyful trust. The harsher our world becomes the more we need the transforming love of God to be poured into our hearts to nurture and sustain us both in our personal struggles and in our interactions with others. I’m grateful for Paul’s reminder that whatever challenge and uncertainty we face we can trust that God’s love will be with us, sustaining, comforting, healing.
What helps you to keep trusting Christ’s promise in difficult times?
These challenging times we live in incline us to build barriers that we can hide behind. They incline us towards protectionism, keeping ourselves safe at the expenses of others. The example of St George reminds us that, tempting as that prospect is, it’s hardly the call of the gospel.
As a Syrian in the Roman army who is patron saint of at least England, Russia, Ethiopia and Georgia St George offers us the opportunity to expand our horizons. He reminds us that our common humanity extends beyond borders and nationalities. He shows us that our hope lies in breaking down barriers, reaching out to the stranger, not in building them higher and excluding people.
He had the courage to stand up to the evil of his day, slaying the “dragons” of his times wherever he could. This offers us courage and hope. In our own times we face plenty of “dragons” unleashed the wars, migration, economic, social and political challenges.
I’ve revisited Malcolm Guite’s poem for the feast. I’m finding that these lines especially speak to me:
“Stand here a while and drink the silence in.
Where clear glass lets in living light to touch
And bless your eyes. A beech tree’s tender green
Shimmers beyond the window’s lucid arch.
You look across an absent sanctuary;
No walls or roof, just holy, open space,
Leading your gaze out to the fresh-leaved beech
God planted here before you first drew breath.”
Their image of hope reminds me that we’re still in Eastertide, celebrating the new creation that the risen Christ offers us. They offer me a place of rest and refreshment. They promise somewhere to rest from the struggles and challenges of these hard times, a still place to pause and draw strength before return to face the challenges again.
As we celebrate the feast of St George where is the living light of Christ piercing your heart?
You can read the whole poem here: https://malcolmguite.wordpress.com/2018/04/21/hatley-st-george-a-poem-for-st-georges-day-5/
A Holy Saturday reel from the archives based on the Byzantine liturgy. I love that it’s full of hope and allows space for grieving…
Where do you need to find space for grieving and hoping this Holy Saturday?
Some thoughts from the archives on Holy Saturday…
There is always an element of relief in arriving at Holy Saturday, if only because we’ve moved through the high drama of Good Friday to a quieter, more reflective space. People often talk of Holy Saturday as a “tomb day”, a time to sit with the emptiness that follows death, to allow the events of Good Friday to sink in. I recognise the yearning for that and its wisdom yet, it’s not an experience I recognise from monastic life.
In practice for many of us Holy Saturday is very much a hybrid day, we are aware of its emptiness, the mourning and the uncertainty. We also have to acknowledge that the Easter vigil is fast approaching and that Easter liturgies and treats do not plan themselves. So it is also a day of preparation and anticipation that can be very busy.
As we move through this hybrid day I’m reflecting on these words from the lamentations of the prophet Jeremiah from this morning’s Office of Readings:
“The favours of the Lord are not all past, nor his kindnesses exhausted; every morning they are renewed: great is his faithfulness. My portion is with the Lord says my soul, and so I will hope in him.”
Even in the midst of his lamentation Jeremiah is able to acknowledge the kindness and faithfulness of God, and to put his hope in that. His words speak to me of the hybrid reality of the day. It seems to me that Holy Saturday calls us to imitate God’s kindness to others as we get on with the many preparations for Easter, and to ourselves as we seek small moments of quiet during the day.
As we celebrate Holy Saturday where are you aware of the Lord renewing your capacity for kindness?
A post from the archives for Good Friday.
This week I’ve been listening to Amy Jill Levine’s courses on Holy Week and the Good Friday. One of the things she highlighted is how often Jesus offered people a second chance, Zacchaeus, all those tax collectors and sinners, the woman taken in adultery come to mind and there are many more.
It has an added significance as we revisit the passion, and see the second chance offered to those who denied and betrayed him, to those who sat on the side lines or runaway, or who only found the courage to come to him under the cover of darkness.
As we come to Good Friday, facing the stark reality of the Cross, it can feel like the time for second chances has run out. As we commemorate the crucified Christ it can seem as though we have reached the end of the story, and that our hopes are ending in death, disgrace, betrayal and failure. On Good Friday we begin Lauds by singing these verses from the Byzantine liturgy:
“Life-giving Lord, it is right to sing your praise, for your hands were stretched out on the Cross, and so you destroyed the power of death.”
We start Good Friday by acknowledging Christ as our “Life-giving Lord”, a powerful reminder that the Cross is not the end of the story, but a gateway to new life. The Cross is an essential part of our faith, we need to face it, acknowledging the suffering and death it represents. And, we need to accept the second chance it offers us with it’s promise of new life.
What second chance is Christ offering you this Good Friday?
As we begin the Triduum here’s a post from the archives for Maundy Thursday
All week we’ve watched tension, uncertainty and fear growing around Jesus and his disciples with the Gospels getting increasingly dark as we’ve journeyed through Holy Week. I often think of the gospel for this evenings mass of the Last Supper as a bright spot in the midst of that darkness.
As he gathers with his disciples to celebrate the Passover Jesus is fully aware that his hour has come. He knows that he is about to be betrayed and that he will soon be facing a brutal and humiliating death. In the midst of that darkness he chooses to wash the feet of his disciples in saying to them:
“If I, then, the Lord and Master, have washed your feet, you should wash each other’s feet. I have given you an example so that you may copy what I have done to you.”
Jesus’s action takes us back to Mary anointing his feet and we can almost smell the scent permeating the air again. Both gestures treat the bodies of others with respect, honour and compassion. Later we will watch with horror. Later we will watch with horror as Jesus’ body is battered and tortured.
It doesn’t take away the darkness of fear, the or the suffering he is about to undergo, it won’t take away the brutality of crucifixion. It does show us that love cannot be overcome or destroyed whatever we face. It challenges us to discover ways that we can bring the light of that love into the dark spaces of our world today.
Where are you being called to carry the light of Christ love to those around you today?
Some thoughts on Holy Week from the archives.
One of the things that holds the themes of Holy Week together for me is our Lauds hymn. Each day it its own verse that reflects a particular aspect of the Salvation narrative that we’re celebrating through this great and challenging week.
These are combined with a refrain that’s repeated each day, linking the themes and drawing them together across the days.
Today’s theme is trust.
“The Son of man alone yet trusting goes.
His life into his Father’s hands commends.”
Alone, betrayed and deserted by those who love him Jesus hands himself over to the Father in complete trust. In stressful times I tend towards micromanagement, wanting to control and fix everything myself. So I find Jesus’ capacity to abandon himself completely to God’s will breath taking and challenging. It reminds me that I am also called to surrender and to put myself and my concerns into God’s hands rather than trying to fix everything myself.
Where are you called to surrender your life to God this Holy Week?
Some thoughts from the archives on the new hope of Holy Week:
One of the things that holds the themes of Holy Week together for me is our Lauds hymn. Each day it its own verse that reflects a particular aspect of the Salvation narrative that we’re celebrating through this great and challenging week.
These are combined with a refrain that’s repeated each day, linking the themes and drawing them together across the days.
The second theme of I find it helpful to reflect on is new hope:
“There Love cries out despairing at his end
New hope to us, the loveless to extend.”
Holy Week can feel so full of fear, despair and betrayal that it can be hard to keep sight of hope. Even as Jesus cries out in despair from the cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me”, his love reaches across the despair with a new hope.
Where is Christ’s love calling out to you today?