For the third Sunday on the run the lectionary focuses on bread as it slowly meanders through chapter 6 of the gospel according to John. Yet within this extended metaphor of bread there are lots of themes. 

 

In the first part of the metaphor (25-33) the focus is on whom the bread came from — the Mother-Father. This section culminates with the phrase “For the bread of God is the bread that comes down from heaven and gives life to the world.” (33) The focus is all on the one who sends — bread from God, bread from heaven.

 

Then in verse 34 the focus changes. Jesus declares, “I am the bread of life.” I talked about this in my last blog. But here, in the sequential view of the passage, it is written to establish who Jesus was. Jesus is the one who came from God, “I am the bread that came down from heaven”. (41).

 

Today, the lectionary passage starts with verse 51. It is a transitional verse between the second and third parts of the discourse on bread. It is the conclusion on the focus on Jesus as the bread — “I am the living bread that came down from heaven” (51a).  Then the beginning of the introduction to the concept of flesh — “this bread is my flesh which I give for the life of the world” (51c)

 

This is a significant change in the metaphor. To recap, firstly was the bread sent from heaven the focus on the one who sent it. Secondly the focus was on Jesus as the bread that was sent from heaven (the divinity of Jesus) and now the focus has moved to bread as the flesh of Jesus. It is no longer on the divinity but on the humanity. The one who came as flesh.

 

Earlier, I read several articles about whether this section of John 6 is Eucharistic or not — both sides had good points. Personally, I suspect there is a hint of Eucharistic understanding in it especially given the late dating of the book of John but there is also so much more. By seeing it as only Eucharistic something is lost.

 

As I often do, I want to think about the impact these words (51-58) would have had on the contemporary audience. I think that often helps when considering a passage. Personally I have read and heard these seven verses so many times that they have become commonplace. They are part of our faith, our tradition and are accepted and read as such. They don’t cause any major unrest.

 

But for those following Jesus, and the later first and second readers of the gospel, they would have been totally shocking. Really, really offensive. As they were said, I can imagine a stunned silence. I can imagine a wave indignation. Even questioning, did Jesus really say that — “whoever eats my flesh and drinks my blood has eternal life.” 

 

This phrase and concept go against everything the audience has understood and been taught from childhood. It is against the Jewish tradition and law and would have been heard as such.

 

“No one among you shall eat blood, nor shall any stranger who dwells among you eat blood” (Leviticus 17:12)

 

So, this would have been very offensive to the Jewish audience. This attacked their culture — who they were at the very centre of their beings. It destabilised everything they were, loved and felt. Culture, tradition and upbringing are really important. I feel English, nothing will change that, it doesn’t matter how long I have lived in USA, my culture is English. I have neighbours from different countries, we talk and share our different experiences. They too feel a sense of belonging to their cultures. In addition to my experience, one only has to look at the contemporary media to see how offensive an attack on a person’s culture is and how important and deeply ingrained culture is. 

 

It is hard, if not impossible, to understand why the bread metaphor went from a pleasant metaphor about bread as nourishing and sustaining to something that would be a stumbling block for many. 

 

The lectionary passage concludes with a re-emphasis on the bread metaphor, “the one who eats this bread will live forever” (58). Clearly, this not a reference to physical life as at the time the gospel was penned many would have already died. Nevertheless, certainly an encouragement after a hard passage. Yet, it does not negate the impact of those few verses about eating flesh and blood.

 

Although today’s lectionary text ends with that final bread phrase, there is a fourth section to this bread discourse (although bread in not actually mentioned).  It is important as it reenforces how much offence was caused. I wonder if, maybe, it provided an explanation to why so many followers left Jesus. 

 

The concluding section starts with the words that Jesus said this “while teaching in the synagogue in Capernaum”. (59)  

 

No longer on a mountain but in a synagogue — wow! That must have felt even worse to the listeners, maybe even heretical. The disciples grumbled and one acknowledged, “This is a hard teaching”.  (60-61) 

 

But then the story twists again, “The Spirit gives life, the flesh counts for nothing”.  (62) This was clearly included later as the text goes on to references the ascension and ensuing Spirit. 

 

I can’t help but wonder if this was penned to minimize damage as the word blood is omitted?  Nevertheless, at this point in the story many leave and no longer follow Jesus (66). The twelve remain, culminating with Peter acknowledging that they believe Jesus was the one from God. (69)

 

The metaphor of bread in John 6 is a bit like a roller-coaster ride there are so many twists and turns, highs and lows. But, I want to end back at today’s interesting lectionary passage which I have tried to set in a little context. 

 

As it clearly caused offence talking about eating flesh and blood, it does raise for me lots to ponder about offence and should one abandon a cause if one is offended. And, of course, I’m not talking about trivial little offences but those that challenge everything one is and has held dear.

 

So, this week I’ll be thinking a lot about principles, upbringing and tradition — 

What is heresy and what is new revelation? 

When does one remain with one’s tradition or when does one abandon it to embrace new concepts?

 

Lots to muse on

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 “I am the bread of life” is the dramatic climax of today’s lectionary reading (John 6:24-35). 

 Bread —a simple word that often conjures up a wealth of images and memories for most people in the west. Often the most inviting sight in a supermarket is shelves full of different breads, often hard to resist. Or the aroma when walking past a bakery entices one to go in and buy bread. Or walking into the kitchen when I have been baking and the smell hits me — tempting to break off a small piece of cooling bread. 

 

There is nothing quite like the aroma of baking bread!

 

Bread has sustained humanity for millennia. It is not surprising then that it is mentioned often in religious texts. The focus of the gospel lectionary for the last two weeks has been bread (John 6) — the feeding of the five thousand, recalling the story of manna in the wilderness and this declaration by Jesus that he is the bread of life. Stories that are well-known, capturing the imagination of generations of readers. Stories that have both physical and spiritual implications.

 

Even the stories themselves sit in juxtaposition to each other and that, in itself, is worth pondering. How do the relate to and expand on each other.

 

Firstly, the recalling of manna in the wilderness — God providing food for hungry people out of nothing earthly for an extended period of time. Although, I’m not focusing on it today, the story makes interesting reading about care and sustenance.

 

Secondly, the feeding of the many thousands of people. In this story, people are not fed out of nothing, but fed from the giving of the five loafs — an oft overlooked part of the story is the generosity of the child who gave up their picnic to share with others. Bread was multiplied and all were fed and satisfied.

 

Thirdly, Jesus uses the metaphor of bread to declare that he is the bread that will satisfy and sustain life.

 

And, although it is not part of today’s lectionary, as we celebrate Eucharist today, bread will feature prominently as it does each week. A reminder, or enactment, of betrayal, death and ultimately new life. 

 

But today, I am not thinking about the details of each story but pondering the metaphor of bread used. 

 

Perhaps, today, my most notable observation is the huge compassion for those who were physically hungry. The pre-eminent concern in both the story of the feeding of the five thousand and the gift of manna was ensuring everyone got enough to eat. It is important that no one went hungry that day, a point emphasized by showing that there was surplus.

 

Throughout the years in my work in schools and with foster children taking care of physical needs is often the priority. Hungry, hurting children and teenagers can’t think about anything else. They can’t learn when they are hungry. Well-being depends on their physical needs being met. Bread is needed!

 

I also know when I come home from teaching, or some other meeting, the first thing I do is put the kettle on. I take care of the physical need; only then can I focus on the myriads of tasks I need to do. 

 

In these stories in the gospel of John the physical needs are taken care of before the spiritual ones. Even the one who ultimately betrayed was fed before leaving. I find much to ponder in this idea. It is an important one. In many ways, it is a reversal of what is often taught about spirituality. It is only after people have been fed the texts turn to a spiritual application, of deep inner hungers being satisfied. 

 

So, I will continue to ponder these bread stories this week as I hold in tension the connection between them, the interplay of the physical and the spiritual. 

Self-Sacrifice v Self-Care

Yesterday, we drove for six and three-quarter hours! As many of you know (and thanks for the good wishes) we have been on vacation.  For us, vacation means ocean, sunshine and sea breezes. So as in previous years, we headed for the Delaware beaches and set up our campsite in one of the many state parks enjoying the sands and the miles of cycle tracks. 

 

Now we often go camping, but many of our trips are working ones — books are written and proofread, online courses and meetings are held although we enjoy the change of scenery. But our ocean time in Delaware is all holiday — we relax.  Of course, there were a couple or of mornings dealing with essential work emails and the needs of people. But mostly it was a time to recharge the batteries! 

 

In the lectionary reading (Mark 6. 30-34, 53-end), the disciples were urged to do just that. They had been sent out in pairs to go round the villages, to preach, to heal, to anoint with oil and to stay with strangers. At the beginning of today’s text, they were gathered around Jesus to report about all they had “done and taught”. (30) But it was busy, and Jesus suggested they go with him to a “to a quiet place and get some rest” (31). 

 

They sailed away to their place of rest, but the crowds followed. Jesus saw them and had compassion on them. He spent time teaching them many things. The lectionary passage skips the next bit of the story where Jesus’ compassion was not only on their spiritual wellbeing but on their physical wellbeing as he fed the crowd. The reading jumps to the end, where having found no rest they returned on their boat and more people met them bringing sick for help. 

 

Jesus’ ministry was one of self-sacrifice, the disciples followed that example. Their own need for quiet and rest was laid aside, as compassion for the people became the preeminent agenda.  It is a recurring theme in the gospels — setting the needs of oneself against the needs of those around. 

 

It is a theme I have mused on before; it even came up a bit at the retreat. If we follow the example of Jesus our lives become lives of self-sacrifice. Modern parlance talks a lot about self-care although that was not a concept in the first century. In today’s story attempts at looking after oneself seem to be thwarted by looking with compassion on the needs of those around. 

 

So, some hypothetical questions that I will continue to ponder this week

 

So, when does self-care become selfish? 

How do I get the balance? 

Should I even try and get the balance or follow the example of self-sacrifice pitted in today’s reading?

 

It was compassion that caused Jesus and friends to set aside their need for quiet. So, a second train of thought. 

 

I can’t feed the more than 5,000 people who follow me up a mountain! (Indeed, I don’t think 5,000 people would follow me up a mountain!)

 

So how is compassion manifest — I look at our community

Many have chosen careers that show compassion

Many financially support organisations that show compassion to both human and non-human people

Many work as volunteers to help others

In an election year — many will show compassion through their choice of voting.

 

So, a final thought to muse this week.

 

How do I show compassion and what’s the cost?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Earth

Earth is the focus of today’s gospel reading (Mark 4.26-34). Not the planet, the world, the cosmos but earth as in the physical substance I dig in, pull weeds from, plant in and see abundance of life spring forth from. I am quite fascinated by the earth. Quite a few years ago Andy and I made the decision to let a large part of our garden go wild. Going wild still requires tending; it needs more hours spending on it that we can give it! But we love the wildness, the everchanging landscape, the variety of wildlife it harbours. 

 

Therefore, I was intrigued to read of and muse on the connection between the earth and the realm of God. It has a very Celtic feel about it. I haven’t yet plunged the depth of all that must be contained in this connection but sense it is an important one. 

 

In the passage, Jesus uses two illustrations both are of seeds being nourished in the earth. In the first story, the realm of God is likened to seed scattered on the ground which grows without human intervention — “the earth produces of itself”. 

 

I know that often seeds are deliberately sown but watching our garden I am even more aware of how the earth itself is party to sowing seeds — many of our plants and trees are self-seeded. They grow in abundance. In a storm earlier this year we lost our very old redbud, (a larger spruce fell on it and destroyed it) but now we have baby redbuds springing up in abundance. Another great connection with the realm of God — the earth is generous and expansive.

 

The second story is of a mustard seed. Perhaps the first thing that springs to mind when mustard is mentioned is the yellow condiment often served with meals. I have seen mustard fields which have a particular beauty, yellow plants stretching as far as the eye can see. (Brassicaceae)

 

However, I think that common idea of mustard should be laid aside when thinking of this parable. I believe the seed put into the earth here produces the mustard tree which is native to Israel and several other countries in the Middle East and Africa. Salvadora Persica is actually a shrub which grows up to thirty feet tall. This shrub thrives in hot, dry conditions. It has many uses. Birds shelter and nest within its branches.  Tree leaves are said to help cure many diseases including coughs, asthma and rheumatism. Goats and camels also feed on them. It is also known as the toothbrush tree as the fibrous branches are used for teeth cleaning. The small berries are eaten, both fresh and dried, whilst the leaves are used to make salads. 

The earth produces this tree, which is a place of refuge, a place of new life, a place of healing and a place of nourishment. Such a wonderful picture on the realm of God. So today, we celebrate Eucharist outside, our feet on the earth, surrounded by the plants and trees brought forth by the earth and are reminded again of this connection, this linking of the earth and the realm of God.

 

 

 

 

 

A short blog today — mainly just some thinking out loud. As I write it, I am on a campground in the Pennsylvania foothills overlooking a lake. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. All seems well with the world.

 

“God did not send the Child into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through the Child. (John 3:17)

 

This short verse is part of the gospel lectionary today. It was the one part of the reading that caused me to pause and think deeply about it. It is a familiar verse, one often learnt and repeated by those new to the Christian faith. Yet sometimes it is that same familiarity that causes me to read the text quickly and forget to pause. So today, I want to linger here.

 

Mingled in with my thoughts is our community prayer “May we be as Christ to those we meet, may we find Christ within them”. They somehow seem to be interconnected.

 

Christ was not sent into the world to condemn it. Often when I open my Facebook page or read the news much of what I find is condemnation. Witty memes often masking people condemning other people who don’t think the same about religion or politics or the physical world. 

 

Why are we (as humans) so quick to condemn?

 Is it part of our nature? Is it part of the way we were nurtured? Or is it a combination? 

(A discussion that has been ongoing for centuries)

 

Whatever the reason, the good news is I can change. I can be in the habit of being careful about what I write or say. I’m glad that in the prayer book we have added to each office “May we be as Christ to those we meet, may we find Christ within them.” It is a daily reminder to strive to be Christlike and, in the light of today’s verse, not to condemn the world (the cosmos). A daily reminder to look for Christ in the surrounding beauty, in each animal and in each person (even if we disagree with them). 

 

The next part of the verse from the text says that the world might be saved by the Christ. I know the stereotypical way that this is perceived is as a single event of salvation, but I think there is a lot more to it than that. It is much deeper. As Jesus walked the earth how did he save the people from the situations they were in?  It was not just with words agreeing to a religious viewpoint; it was with acts of kindness and love. People were healed. Crowds were fed. Outcasts were acknowledged, Women were seen, not condemned. 

 

So, I walk a tightrope figuratively! 

 

I want to be as Christ to those I meet which means that I want to care for those I meet, especially the marginalized, the unseen, the hungry and the sick.  

 

I want to be as Christ to those I meet which means not condemning others even if they don’t think the same as I do. 

 

Can I find Christ within them all? For some, it is easier to find Christ in some than in others.

 

So here is my dilemma:

How do I stand against injustice and oppression without condemning people? 

How do I find Christ in both the oppressed and the oppressor, the abused and the abuser?

Is it even possible? 

 

So, some deep questions for me to ponder this week.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waiting and More Waiting

An interesting and hard to understand passage is the focus of the lectionary reading this week. (John 17.6-19)

 

On the surface it seems quite spiritual; talking about how the Christ is waiting to return to the Mother-Father. According to the text, prior to this returning Christ offered protection to those who are disciples but now Christ is asking the Mother-Father to provide that same protection. It sounds really good; the protection is now in the hands of the Mother-Father but (and it is a big but) this saying of Jesus was penned at a time when the followers of Christ were already under persecution. (85-90CE)

 

I always like to try to imagine how the words would sound to the early readers of the gospel. I have a hard time thinking how this would feel. The promise of protection yet seeing friends and family suffer. The exact number of Christians killed by Roman empire is undocumented. However, Eusebius, an early church historian, speaks of countless numbers and myriads perishing (Eusebius Pamphilus), estimates are that this was between 3,000 and 4,000. Several of the named disciples were included in the number of those martyred. Peter is believed to have been martyred in 64CE, twenty years before the Gospel of John was written, although, of course, these texts may have been part of the oral tradition. Regardless, it is well worth pondering on how this passage must have sounded to the early disciples.

 

The passage continues talking about how Jesus is sending or has sent disciples into the world. It is their mission and calling. That sense of calling must have been strong with those early Christians, hearing these words but already knowing the fate that would be waiting for them. 

 

Waiting for something to happen is an experience I think everyone shares. It could be waiting for something pleasant to happen. The great anticipation of birthdays, Christmas, holidays as a child always brought great pleasure to me. Although, I know for some children waiting for those occasions is accompanied with a sense of trepidation and dread. As adults the same mixed feelings surround times of waiting: new jobs, marriage, birth of children, moving home, medical results, vacations and, even, end of life. Excitement, apprehension, fear, joy, nervousness, impatience are all words associated with waiting. Waiting is very much part of the human experience.

 

The season of ascension focuses on waiting. The risen Christ has ascended to the Mother-Father and now begins the time of waiting for the promised Holy Spirit. 

 

Perhaps, for the disciples the waiting period began even earlier with ascension being a highlight along the way. The gospels have different time frames. In John’s Gospel there is a much shorter time period between resurrection and ascension than in the synoptics. Traditionally, in the church’s calendar it is 40 days. 

 

Maybe, for them, the waiting period began with an incredible low as they witnessed the reality of death and crucifixion. They must have felt they had hit rock bottom. Yet, like the mythological phoenix, something was rising from the ashes — what a great picture that is of ascension! I have always loved the way C. S. Lewis expresses it in The Last Battle —"Their hearts leaped and a wild hope arose within them” (228)

 

But what a waiting period they must have been! The depths of despair as their hopes and expectations of a Messiah ended on a cross.  Hope and expectation rekindled at the news of resurrection with then some walks, some conversations and a shared meal with the risen Christ culminating with watching Christ ascending. 

 

But still the waiting continues as they prepare themselves for empowerment for the next phase of their lives. Empowerment that allowed the disciples over the next couple of centuries to follow the calling of being sent to bear witness to the Christ story whilst knowing the fate that would be waiting for them. 

 

 

Pruning

Our beautiful magnolia tree, which is much taller than the house, bloomed this week, a mass of gorgeous pink blossoms. Every year Andy and I enjoy just sitting and admiring its beauty. Sadly, due to the changing weather patterns this year, two days after blossoming, the weather dropped to several degrees below freezing. Our poor tree took the brunt of the cold. Instead of the glorious pink we should now be seeing, each blossom is now dead and brown. I feel very sad about it.

 

Regardless, the lectionary reading (John 15. 1-8) seemed apt for the season. Our minds have this week turned to how much work we need to do in our garden. Lots of clean up, raking leaves and picking up small branches. In addition to losing the lovely Magnolia, we have lost two of our magnificent spruces (both well over 120 feet) due to storms and high winds. The gospel reading reflects the concept of that spring preparing (at least, in the Western hemisphere). 

 

When Jesus told stories, many of the illustrations used would be relevant to those listening. They were about daily or seasonal events that would have been part of their everyday life. They would have seen and experienced what Jesus was talking about.

 

In this story, Jesus is using the analogy of a vine-grower and a vine. Where we live, in the Finger Lakes, there are many vineyards. The abundance of fruit produced goes to make wine — growers competing for best wines get awards. Our local wine shops proudly display a whole aisle of “local wines” and hosts tastings of them. Of course, now the Finger Lakes wines can now be seen in many more places than just our local area.

 

But to produce a good harvest of fruit there are several requirements. Sun, soil, grafting, good roots and pruning. It is the pruning that today’s reading focuses on. Pruning is an annual task done right at the end of winter when the vines are dormant. The grape vines are cut right back, leaving just a few canes with only four or five buds each. Pruning is done to allow each branch to get sunlight, to be rid of less healthy branches, to promote growth and to avoid diseases.

 

A perfect picture for those listening to this story told by Jesus. Sometimes, this parable is used with a negative connotation with the focus on being gathered up and throne in the fire, almost like a punishment! 

 

I think this is a much more positive story and would have been understood as such. The message is getting rid of the old to make room for the new. 

 

That is the cycle of life — getting rid of the old to make room for the new. Old things are discarded to make room for new things. I think if we were together and sitting round the table each of us would be able to chime in with old things that have been discarded to make room for new. Tangible things like clothes, cars, houses, jobs, but also ideas and beliefs as people develop, grow, mature and change. It is a good thing.

 

It is still sometimes celebrated with the “Burning of the Vines” marking the end of the pruning season. The new life is beginning, and burning ensures that no diseases from the old stock can harm the new. Nowadays, some grape wood is saved to burn later often on a barbecue, as the smoke enhances the flavour of the veggie burgers (for us!).

 

This parable highlights that our spirituality is part of the cycle of life, the old always making room for the new, growth being welcomed and nothing left that would be stale or unproductive.

 

 

Peace and Open Mindedness

“Peace be with you”, these are the first words spoken by Jesus’ in today’s lectionary passage. (Luke 24.36b-48)

 

What a great way to greet some-one! Perhaps it is a good habit to start — every time we meet some-one, speak to them on the phone, be served by them in a store or read something we don’t agree with, the first thing we allow to ourselves to think or speak would be a blessing of peace on the person. I think it could change the way I live. Yesterday, I had a very frustrating second conversation in the week with the warranty people about my non-functioning camera. Of course, I was polite and thanked them at each stage but inwardly I was frustrated, and quite annoyed that I was having to repeat all the information several times. I wonder if I would have felt differently if I had started each conversation with “Peace be with you”. Maybe I’ll try it if I need to phone them a third time!

Back to the text, firstly I want to set the story in context. In the Gospel of Luke, this was the first day of the week. Early, in the morning the women (1) went to the tomb and discovered the empty tomb. The women were later named as “Mary Magdalene, Joan“Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and the others” (10). They went to the apostles and told them what had happened (as a side note we often talk about Mary as the apostle to the apostles but here there are more female apostles bringing the news that Christ is risen — more apostles to the apostles). The apostles did not believe them, “their words seemed like nonsense” (11). However, Peter did go to the tomb, saw that it was empty and “went away, wondering to himself what had happened.”

 

The Gospel of Luke continues immediately with the story of the two disciples (Cleopas and Mary) on the road to Emmaus and the conversation with a stranger who they ultimately realised was the risen Christ. (13-32) These two immediately returned to Jerusalem, found the disciples and told their story. Interestingly, the disciples told them it was true as the Christ had appeared to Simon (however, this appearance is not documented by Luke).

 

It was while they were discussing the resurrection appearances that Jesus appeared with the greeting “Peace be with you”. 

 

 I think the stories of the resurrection appearances would have been very important to contemporary people. It is always worth remembering that these early hearers of the stories as they passed down over the decades in what is now called the oral tradition and then first readers of the gospels would have been people under persecution. Their lives would have been in jeopardy. There would have been a sense of having to live in secrecy and fear.  The stories of resurrection appearances would probably have been a great comfort. As they themselves may have been facing horrific deaths, waiting for the return of Jesus (which hadn’t happened) these stories must have felt like a lifeline. Whatever they suffered, whatever their families and friends suffered there was this hope — death wasn’t the end.

 

Yet, in all the stories, physically Jesus was changed so much that they were unrecognisable. Important to ponder that, Jesus was not the same. In the stories it is always an action or a spoken word that caused those early disciples to realise  it was the resurrected Christ. 

 

As Luke continues the story  story even though they were talking about Christ being risen, even though Jesus entered with the words, “Peace be with you”, they were still “startled and frightened”.  They still thought it was a ghost. Even after seeing Jesus’ hands and feet they remained sceptical, although there was some amazement and dawning joy. Then, Jesus asked for something to eat — was being able to eat a proof of solid humanity rather than spirit?  The text certainly hints at that. 

 

Jesus talked to them about the scriptures and all the prophecies about the Messiah. Gospel of Luke tells us “… he opened their minds”. I want to dwell on that phrase for a moment.  I don’t think it was a supernatural opening of minds. I don’t think it was as if the resurrected Christ waved a spiritual wand and suddenly, they could see.

 

“Minds being opened” is a process, it happens all the time. It happened to the disciples. As human beings our minds are constantly being opened. I can think back over my life and see many times my mind was opened to new things; new realisations and it changed me. Even last night Andy and I were watching a new drama on the tele, “We Were the Lucky Ones”. I highly recommend it to all; it is important viewing but harrowing. It is about the plight of the Jewish people in Poland in WWII. I learnt new things and it reenforced again the horrors of what humanity can do to humanity. My mind was opened to it in a new way. And, hopefully, each time my mind is opened it will change me a bit.

 

So, in the story today, the disciples’ minds were opened through finding the empty tomb, through hearing the experiences of others, through seeing the resurrected Christ, through hearing the teaching of the prophecies. Their minds were opened, and they grew and changed ready for whatever came next.

Christ is risen.

Christ is risen indeed.

 

Happy Easter to everyone reading this.

 

How quickly the seasons change! During the last week of lent — Passiontide — the daily readings in the New Way of Living have focused on the Easter events.

 

What a story it is — a tale of devotion, love, grief, betrayal, denial and death.

 

Devotion of the woman who anointed Jesus as preparation for his death (Matt 26.11)

Love poured out as Jesus washing the disciples’ feet. (John 13.4)

Grief as Jesus prayed to the Abba-Amma to let “this cup pass from him” (Matt 26.38-9)

Betrayal as Judas led the soldiers and officials to Jesus (John 18)

Further betrayal by the crowds as the ones who lay down palm branches with cries of “Hosanna! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of G*d — the saviour of Israel” turned to the crowds who shouted “crucify”. (John 12:14)

Denial as Peter refused to admit he knew Jesus (Matt 26)

Torture at the hands of Pilate — flogging and slapping (John 19:1-3)

Death as Jesus is crucified — a cruel and painful practice.

 

I suspect that for those who followed Jesus, the crucifixion was more than the horror seeing the one they loved being put to such a painful physical death.  

It was an end. 

It was a finality. 

It was the death of all they had hoped for, 

It was the death of all they had believed in, 

It was the death of all they had given their lives to. 

 

It is hard to imagine the fear, the despair, the agony, the confusion the disciples must have felt.

 

But happily, that is not the end of the story— 

 

Christ is risen.

Christ is risen indeed.

 

In our lectionary passage for today (John 20:1-18) early in the morning Mary went to the tomb. Mary found the stone had been removed and the body was gone. I’m sure this caused her sorrow to be even deeper. Not even a body to tend and prepare, an important part of both custom and grieving process. 

 

Mary went and told two other disciples who returned with her to check the veracity of her words. They too saw the evidence of the missing body. Perhaps one of the saddest lines summing up their despair is they “returned to their homes”.  Even the body was gone, it was pointless hanging around. 

 

Yet, Mary did. Mary stayed by the empty tomb weeping. In the depths of her grief, she peeped into the tomb and saw a vision of two angels. I wonder if at that point a flicker of hope rose in her heart. A little ray of light penetrating the darkness. The angels spoke asking why she wept. Her response was that she did not know where the body of Jesus was. In the text, even at this point Mary’s hope was not of resurrection but of finding the body of the one she loved so she could care for it.  She needed to do that, her last gift to her friend.

 

But as soon as she had spoken, she became aware of a person behind her.

 

 She did not recognise the person as Jesus. I think there is something important to grasp here, the physical, the body was completely different, there was nothing recognisable. Everything was changed. 

 

The author of the gospel commented that Mary then supposed it was a gardener and asked if they had removed the body. Mary was still thinking about her duty of care, her last outpouring of love not of a resurrected Christ. 

 

But everything changed as her name was spoken. It is a powerful thing to use someone’s name, it denotes relationship and care. It is connection between human beings. I can’t think of a better or more meaningful way of bringing forth the truth of resurrection than that single spoken word “Mary”. (15)

 

Immediately recognition followed. I can’t begin to imagine what thoughts must have been going through Mary’s head as in a moment grief turned to joy, despair turned to hope.

It was not the end. 

It was a new beginning.

Everything had changed.

Life had won.

 

Mary’s response was to go and share the news with the others who loved Jesus so they too could find renewed hope and joy.

 

 Mary, the apostle to the apostles running to bring the good news — 

Christ is risen.

Christ is risen indeed.

 

 

 

 

I Arise Today Through a Mighty Strength

I don’t really like flying although it has become part of my life due to being called to live in a foreign country. I experience the strange sensation of “butterflies in my tummy” as the date of departure approaches. Then when I am seated on the aeroplane, I read or say part of St Patrick’s breastplate which begins:

 

I arise today

Through God’s strength to pilot me:

God’s might to uphold me,

God’s wisdom to guide me,

God’s eye to look before me …

 

Today, March 17, is the day we remember and, in some cases, celebrate St. Patrick as the patron saint of Ireland. However, Patrick was not Irish but born on the British west coast towards the end of the fourth Century. He hailed from what has been considered an aristocratic family who themselves owned land and had servants. Patrick would have been well-educated, probably in Latin. His education would have included a grounding in Christian faith — indeed his grandfather, Potitus, was a priest. 

 

When Patrick was sixteen his life changed. He was kidnapped by Irish raiders and taken to Ireland as a slave. He was one of thousands enslaved by the Irish at that time. 

 

Slavery is a horrible practice. It has been pervasive throughout human history, taking various forms across many different cultures and time periods. Historically, slavery has existed in many societies, including ancient civilizations like Egypt, Greece, Rome, and various African realms. It involves the ownership and exploitation of individuals as property. Perhaps one of the most infamous examples is the transatlantic slave trade, which forcibly transported millions of Africans to the Americas between the 16th and 19th centuries.

 

While formal slavery has been abolished in most countries, it still persists in modern times. According to the “World Population Review” there are an estimated forty-six million slaves being harboured by 167 countries at this current time. That shocks me — forty-six million slaves in 2024! 

 

Of course, there are efforts to combat contemporary slavery include legal reforms, international treaties, and advocacy campaigns but the high numbers remain.

 

St Patrick was enslaved for six years before his escape. In his Confessions Patrick later reflected that he saw this as punishment for his lack of faith and admitted that “I did not know the true God.” (Conf. 1). 

 

As a slave he was put to work in remote, rural countryside tending flocks. It was in this lonely, isolated place that Patrick turned to God. He says, “More and more the love of God increased, and my sense of awe before God. Faith grew, and my spirit was moved, so that in one day I would pray up to one hundred times, and at night perhaps the same. I even remained in the woods and on the mountain, and I would rise to pray before dawn in snow and ice and rain. I never felt the worse for it, and I never felt lazy – as I realise now, the spirit was burning in me at that time.” (Conf. 16)

 

In the Confessions Patrick also talks about how God revealed to him when to escape. He made a tortuous journey that involved many hardships and re-capture for a short period before finally making it home where he was welcomed by his parents. 

 

Sometime later he received a vision with a call to return to Ireland. “They called out as it were with one voice: “We beg you, holy boy, to come and walk again among us.”” (Conf. 23).

 

There followed a time of preparation. I think it is worth noting here that preparation is always necessary for ministry. It is a good principle to follow — call, preparation, ministry.

 

Details about St. Patrick's specific training to be ordained as a priest are not extensively documented, but it's believed that he underwent religious education and training in Gaul (modern-day France).

 

During that time period, it was common for individuals seeking ordination to receive formal theological instruction and spiritual formation from established religious communities. Gaul was known for its Christian presence and had several prominent monastic centers and schools where aspiring clergy could receive training. The duration of training to be ordained as a priest varied depending on the specific circumstances and the individual's educational background. For St. Patrick, who underwent training in Gaul after escaping captivity in Ireland, it's likely that his preparation for ordination spanned several years. This would have included studying under experienced Christian teachers, engaging in theological reading, participating in practical ministry activities, and undergoing spiritual formation. Obviously, it was an important time for St. Patrick who later writes, “I would like to go to Gaul to visit the brothers and to see the faces of the saints of my Lord. God knows what I would dearly like to do.” (Conf. 43)

 

I should add that scholars have studied St. Patrick extensively, but there are still debates and discussions about various aspects of his life and legacy. There is consensus among scholars that St. Patrick was a real historical figure who played a significant role in the spread of Christianity in Ireland. However, the details of his life, including specific dates and events, are sometimes difficult to verify due to limited historical records from that period.

 

There are many legends about St Patrick. While not necessarily historically accurate they contribute to the enduring legacy and significance of St. Patrick. One particularly important story is St. Patrick using a shamrock to explain the trinity. He showed that the three leaves of the shamrock are distinct yet part of the same plant — three in one. This symbol is widely used in Christianity.  Another legend has St. Patrick driving all the snakes out of Ireland. Clearly a myth as there were no native snakes in Ireland but is usually interpreted spiritually as ridding the country of evil influences.

 

Although there is no direct evidence to link St Patrick with the adapting of pagan holidays into Christian ones as an influential figure in the Christianisation of Ireland it is likely he contributed to the concept. The process of adapting pagan days to Christian ones was a way for early Christians to give context to their faith within the cultural framework of the communities they went to minister to. For example, the Roman festival of Saturnalia became Christmas. Easter was aligned with the Spring equinox a time associated with fertility and renewal, changing the season so Christians could infuse it with deeper spiritual significance while maintaining continuity with existing cultural observances.

 

 

Briefly to conclude, I want to think about what I can learn from St. Patrick. How can I enhance my own spirituality through his life practices?  I think for today, I will content myself  with just three words — thankfulness, forgiveness, endurance.

 

Thankfulness — Personal prayer and spiritual growth was an integral part of Patrick’s life with that was always thankfulness. In his own words.

“I want to give thanks to God without ceasing”. (Conf 46) 

“I am greatly in debt to God. He gave me such great grace, that through me, many people should be born again in God and brought to full life”. (Conf 38) 

“So I’ll never stop giving thanks to my God, who kept me faithful in the time of my temptation”. (Conf. 34)

 

Forgiveness — St. Patrick faced numerous challenges throughout his life, particularly during his mission in Ireland, so an important practice to note in his life was forgiveness, extending grace and mercy to others, even in the face of injustice. By forgiving his captors, St. Patrick serves as an example for all, showing that forgiveness is not only a personal act of healing but also a powerful expression of love and compassion towards others, regardless of the harm they may have caused. It is a powerful reminder that through forgiveness, the cycle of violence can be broken, and reconciliation and peace can be found.

 

Endurance — After his escape and rigorous training, St. Patrick felt called to return to Ireland as a missionary. He faced significant opposition from pagan Druids, tribal leaders, and even some fellow Christians who doubted his mission. St. Patrick endured hostility and persecution from those who opposed his efforts to spread Christianity in Ireland. He faced threats to his personal safety and was subjected to various forms of harassment and persecution. He endured all these hardships while learning the language and customs of the people plus navigating Ireland’s rugged terrain and dispersed population which presented logistical challenges as he traveled throughout the country to preach and establish churches. Throughout St. Patrick remained steadfast. He wrote, “I pray that God give me perseverance, and that he grant me to bear faithful witness to him right up to my passing from this life, for the sake of my God.” (Conf. 58)

 

I’ll end with a few more words from the breastplate which is attributed to St Patrick.

 

I arise today

Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity

Through belief in the threeness

Through confession of the oneness

Of the creator of creation.