Homily for the Ascension

Rifling hopefully through files on my computer last night I found this lurking under the title "Thoughts towards a sermon for Ascension..."

No date, so I assume it was never preached - but as today is stuffed with meetings and travelling as well as 2 Eucharists and a school service, it's appearance was a real gift, protecting me from and all-nighter that really didn't look like a good idea.

Ascension is tricky, isn't it. All those medieval feet...But fantastic music!

Nobody likes goodbyes…

That’s something I acknowledge whenever I stand with mourners at a funeral.

Goodbyes hurt, even when you understand exactly what is going on.

How much more so for the disciples who have had the roller coaster experience of losing Jesus, in his death on the cross, finding him again as he walked beside them in his resurrection life, and then…..oh no…..losing him once more with no date set for his return to them.

They had his promise, true enough…but whatever they may have hoped, there was no certainty that God’s timing would match their lifetimes

So this feast is a strange celebration.

We celebrate the loss of Jesus from the Earth – the end of his earthly bodily ministry.

BUT – if we read the Gospel for this evening again we don’t actually get the feeling that the disciples were particularly glum! In fact the reading we had from Luke’s Gospel, chapter 24 ends with these verses (V 51-53) “While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven. And they worshipped him, and returned to Jerusalem with great joy, and they were continually in the temple blessing God.”

That sounds OK, actually.

Light years away from a family returning home to deal with a newly empty place at the table.

They returned to Jerusalem WITH GREAT JOY.

What had happened?

It seems that, as they obeyed the angels and turned their gaze back from the clouds to engage with the world once more, something shifted inside them.

They were now people of purpose.

They had been disciples, - students learning from the Master.

Now they were apostles – people sent by him, people who knew their calling, their God given task in the world and trusted that God would indeed equip them to fulfil it.

Before being taken to be with God (however that was accomplished) Jesus charged the Apostles to be his witnesses to the ends of the earth.

Witnesses – those who had seen and who were to proclaim the good news that Jesus himself had proclaimed, those who were to live and act as Jesus had, those who were to be Christ-like in the world.

Ascension day is, if you like, the moment when the baton passes from Jesus to the twelve.

And because they were in no way up to the task, Jesus made them another promise

the promise of ‘power from on high’ – the gift of God’s Holy Spirit, the comforter, the advocate, the helper. The Spirit was to be poured out in a new way, to give authority and power to their message and equip them for all they were to do.

That is why they weren’t torn by this parting – Jesus was leaving, but he was staying.

The Spirit would bring that sense of Christ into every moment – just as he had said it would.

The last thing that Jesus did before he ascended was to bless that little group huddled on the hillside.

He blessed them, not to remain there but to go and do his work in the world

That was their mission.

That is our mission.

We are to get on with letting the world know who Jesus is, what God has done in Him, in the amazing power of the Holy Spirit.

The baton has passed to us

.If we are open to the life of God, open to his Spirit, then we too can know the fullness of what Jesus promised, and we can have the assurance that one day we will see God face to face.

In the meantime, we have to trust, to rely on faith, to be willing to do what God would have us do.

It means, sometimes, waiting on God, as the Apostles waited for the coming of the Spirit.

It means being open to hear God’s voice.

It means being willing to move, perhaps to change.

Just as the disciples were not allowed to remain gazing up to heaven, or to erect a shrine at the spot where they last saw Jesus, so we must not allow ourselves to be mesmerised by past experiences of God so that we forget to expect God’s presence ahead of us as well..

The apostles had to re-engage with the world, to go onwards, trusting Christ’s promise that they would not travel without help.

They had to take risks of faith, and so do we.

And, as they dared, they found their faith had the surest of foundations.

Jesus was with them. Jesus is with us.

Today it is time for us to take responsibility for the mission of the church.

Today it is time to stop looking backwards, longing for reconnection with the past.

Today we can trust the promise that if we walk in faith we will receive all that we need to enable our mission in God’s name.

While we are being political

here's the text of the sermon I preached today, as we begin Christian Aid Week.
Easter 6 yr C Christian Aid sermon

I wonder how you're feeling in the wake of the past few days.
You may be disappointed that so little seems to have been settled, appalled at the muddles that prevented some voters from getting to cast their votes at all, exhausted by the emotional highs and lows as seats were declared through the long hours of Thursday night and Friday morning...
It's been quite a week in UK politics – but will there be lasting change?
So many promises, so much hope...but our country and our world needs something far greater, a genuine transformation that is beyond the remit of any party, whatever size their majority.

Our gospel this morning is another part of the great outpouring of the hopes, dreams and prayers that Jesus left with his disciples – the passage known as the “Farewell discourse” that we have been following over recent weeks. Last week we considered Jesus's manifesto for ministry as he rose to speak in the synagogue in Nazareth– today we're looking at the legacy that he longs to see lived out in the lives of those he leaves behind him.
“Those who love me will keep my word...”
This passage comes at a pivot point in John's gospel. Ahead lies the shadow of the cross, but Jesus looks beyond that separation to the fulness of resurrection life to come, and the promise of the Holy Spirit.
That Spirit, says Jesus, will be an Advocate...One who speaks on behalf of those who are voiceless...
Let's just think for a moment about those who ARE voiceless in our world.

Not us...We may have issues with the current electoral system, - we may feel that as individuals we can't really change anything that happens on the larger stage – but in truth, we do have the freedom and the resources to make a difference. We can risk going out on a limb for religious or political beliefs knowing that it's unlikely to cost us more than a bit of embarassment, a few uncomfortable conversations with friends and colleagues.
We are protected in so many ways, ways that perhaps we barely notice.
If we are silent, that is our choice.
We can speak without fear of reprisal on so many issues...and indeed as Christians we have a duty to do so.
More of that in a moment...
But who then are the voiceless?

In a society where communication is celebrated as never before, where we can engage at any moment of the day or night with friends across the globe, there are still too many who have no place in the conversation.
Those without access to education
Those living where democracy seems beyond their wildest dreams
Those struggling to survive amid poverty that we can barely imagine.

Today Christian Aid week begins.There's much I could share with you of specific projects, of groups and individuals whose lives will be changed by people like us, who bother to turn out in the rain to deliver envelopes, who transform church halls into shops for a week, who run fair trade coffee mornings and fish and chips quiz nights. If you ever doubt the value of the yearly push to fill envelopes and encourage reluctant neighbours to contribute, there are hundreds of stories to inspire you...But today I want to explore why this kind of giving, this kind of campaigning is built into our faith – not an optional extra but part of our essential Christian DNA.

“Those who love me will keep my word....”
There is no room for confusion. We are commanded to follow Christ’s word – to love as Christ loves. We see in Christ’s life, ministry and passion his absolute love. And throughout his life on earth he demonstrated compassion for the poor and marginalised people. This gospel passage comes soon after the washing of the feet, and the implication is clear – this is how we are to love; this is how we are to follow.
It isn't always comfortable...but then, real love doesn’t shy away from the unclean, unpleasant, unsanitised things of the world. It drives us to respond to them, by practical love that works for change.

Does that sound too difficult? Too challenging? Too scary?
If you don't think you can manage – you're in good company.
I don't think anyone here realistically believes that they CAN love as Jesus did.
We tend, as fallible human beings, to prefer not to follow the way of the cross.
We prefer to curl up in a safe place, rather than stand against the powers and principalities of this world.
We think that perhaps we can abdicate......but no, that isn't an option.
We are called to love.

But don't panic....though loving as Christ does is not humanly possible in our own strength, we have been given the Holy Spirit.
As the Spirit comes to us, we are offered transforming gifts, love, joy, peace, kindness and patience, coming not from our own limited resources but directly from God's overflowing treasure chest. Christian Aid Week always falls in the liturgical season of Easter – our celebration of the sure and certain hope that Christ has won for us. The God that could raise Christ from the dead has power beyond our imagining to transform the world and invites us to co-operate in that transformation.
Christ’s resurrection tells us that there is not only an alternative vision for the world, but also another end to the story, and that if we can enter into the story of sacrifice, there is abundant life to be found.

In the passage from Revelation we glimpse the completion of the perfect kingdom enabled by Christ’s work of redemption
Always we struggle because that kingdom that is both now and yet to come..secured for us by Christ's saving action on the cross, but apparently out of reach as we look around...It is both a clear and wonderful goal and a sad,  stark contrast to the brokenness of so much of our world today.
So we strive towards the golden hope represented, but wonder if it's truly attainable...
We dream of the heavenly city, a perfect society – vast and open to all, without pain, death or suffering. God and people dwell together because there is nothing to marr their relationship; all exist in perfect communion, perfect community.
This is a place of abundant health, where the tree of life grows -whose leaves are for the healing of nations.
This is a place of transforming light – light streaming from God's own self.
A vision to sustain us and inspire us – the hope which beckons us on...
Just a few verses before the passage we've heard, in Revelation 21 God's promise that those who overcome will be given "the water of life as a gift".
Our passage today shows us ‘the river of the water of life, as clear as crystal’, and the miraculous tree it waters which brings healing and wholeness for all nations....but are we actually thirsty?
We're quite comfortable here and now...
so do we honestly yearn for change, thirst for a new creation, a world transformed and made new in love?

The gospels are clear that there is abundant life to be found through the way of sacrifice. And if we thirst to follow the way of Jesus, God promises to give us his strength –through the Holy Spirit.
The only limit is the limit of our thirst.
Is that vision our vision?

By the grace of God it can be so.

Of course vision without action is only fantasy. We are all called to play our part in bringing the kingdom of heaven to earth. The vision of a pain and suffering free world given to us in Revelation is not just a beautiful hope for the future. It is something to aim for now.
In a little while we will sing a hymn that will probably be new to you/(at St M's this morning) we sang a hymn that might not be familiar to you...I chose it because it sums up for me the call to love in action
Let me read you the final verse
“Heaven shall not wait for triumphant alleluias
When earth is past and we reach another shore
Jesus is Lord in our present imperfections
His power and love are for now and then for ever more”

The Christian Aid slogan “We believe in life BEFORE death” reflects this.
We are not in the business of offering “pie in the sky when you die” for our resurrection faith leads us to believe that what might seem impossible can and must happen, and invites us to roll up our sleeves and co-operate with God in transforming the world through the power of Love.

Sunday "Friday Five: Faith & Politics"

On Friday, Sally posted this over at RevGals...but I was far too busy drifting around in a state of sleep-deprived emotional exhaustion after a long night watching disappointing results trickling in...Now, however, with my dormant political enthusiasm well and truly awake (whatever the state of the vicar) it feels like a good moment to play...

So what do you think about the mix of faith and politics:

1. Jesus a political figure: discuss...

What is there to discuss? From the moment when Mary celebrated the child in her womb by launching into the Magnificat ("he has put down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly...He has filled the hungry with good things and sent the rich away empty"), through the presentation of Jesus's own ministry manifesto

"The Spirit of the Lord is upon me because he has anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor, - to heal the broken hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind....to give to those who mourn a garland instead of ashes......" Jesus is not just political, he is revolutionary.

Speaking truth to power has always been part of the gospel imperative - because the brokenness of this world demands change and challenge as we co-operate with God in its transformation.

2. Politics in the pulpit, yes or no and why?

Social politics, - absolutely. Party politics, - pretty much never. There are exceptions to this, of course...If I found myself serving in an area with a tangible BNP presence I would have no hesitation in speaking against that party from the pulpit but generally I think it can be actively unhelpful. When elections are over and done, when a particular issue has been laid to rest, it's really important that priest and people can continue to respect one another, that they can converse without restraint or embarrassment....Party politics tend to disrupt those relationships.

For example, this morning I had a thoroughly amicable conversation with a member of my congregation who, like me, had been up all of Thursday night...He had spent election day working tirelessly for the party of his choice, had attended the vote count and celebrated as the seat was won by his candidate. We both agreed that elections were uniquely exhausting and exhilarating and hoped devoutly that, despite the hung Parliament, we would be glad of more than a few months off before the next one. The thing is, our party political views are diametrically opposed...but though we both knew this, the fact that we had not actually said so enabled us to continue our conversation happily. If I had nailed my party colours to the mast, we would have had to tiptoe round one another cautiously...This felt better.

3.What are your thoughts on the place of prayer in public life...

Hmn. There's a bit drama running here at the moment as the tradition of including prayer at the start of local council meetings has been challenged by the National Secular Society. I'm inclined to feel that "token" prayers, included for the sake of tradition, are probably best discarded...and that the chances of collecting a body of people who want to pray with sincerity, truth and focus in public life are probably limited...so I'd be prepared to let the formulaic prayers slide, I think - but I also think we have a duty to pray for the government. Does that cancel things out?

4.Is there a political figure, Christian or otherwise that you admire for their integrity?

Mahatma Gandhi...always.

"What is your view of western civilisation, Mahatma?" "I think it would be a really good thing".

5.What are your thoughts on tactical voting, e.g. would you vote for one individual/party just to keep another individual/ party form gaining power?

This caused me no end of angst this past week. We had an excellent sitting M.P., for whom I have nothing but admiration...We also had a very distasteful candidate from another party, who seemed certain to win this seat. And we had the party I have long supported, the party whose policies I wholeheartedly approve, but who had precisely no chance of winning here.

After much agonising, considering, researching, I decided against tactical voting, just to keep out the distasteful party....But as a result the excellent sitting MP was ejected, my favoured party having eaten into his support without meaningful gain for themselves.

I don't regret voting according to policy - but, had I known the outcome, I think a spot of tactical voting might have been the answer.

Given the current state of UK government, I may have another opportunity to agonise soon.

I interrupt my unwelcome tidying to bring you this week's Unconscious Mutterings

with thanks, as usual, to Luna nina

1. Creepy ::crawly
2. Links :: unravelling
3. Sane :: Alex (are you reading this, Hugger Steward - the indoctrination is working)
4. Bun ::Chelsea
5. Visual ::Aid
6. Remote ::Control
7. Freaking ::Out
8. Curly ::tail
9. Saga ::Norse
10. Different ::Country

Now, in the absence of an alternative diversion, I guess I have to get on with the study floor...We are currently on seriously bad terms.

At the Nursing Home

Ministry at the nursing home that occupies the former vicarage just next to Church in the Valley is a comparatively new development.

When I first arrived here, two years ago, I included it in my rounds of "Hello, I'm the new vicar - just called in to introduce myself and see if there was anything I could do"

and received a response marginally less polite than

"Don't call us, we'll call you".

Shortly afterwards, the niece of one of the residents contacted me to arrange Home Communion for her aunt, and M., our wonderful Reader, adopted this ministry and has been visiting monthly ever since....but despite her best efforts, it seemed impossible to build further relationships with that community.

Then, early this year, came a change of management. Suddenly the church was not just tolerated - we were positively welcome. A monthly Communion for residents and families was requested, and launched, and I've found myself called on a few occasions to pray with someone close to death. Today, when I arrived for Communion, I was invited to join the welfare committee.

Yes, I agreed.

You saw that coming, didn't you?

Before anyone explodes with protective horror - this is a community of some 40 housebound souls, living on my doorstep.

Because they can no longer engage with the outside world, the outside world pretty much fails to engage with them.

Isn't it a good thing that the church should be the exception to that rule?

I know that it doesn't have to be the vicar who does the engaging, though I'm recognising the value of the collar as I try to communicate who I am to those wandering in the confusion of extreme age and infirmity. My thought is that I serve on this committee (4 meetings a year, lasting about an hour) for a year or two then pass it on to one of the lovely pastoral group that has emerged from our visiting course...but that at this early stage it's quite good to be as officially visible as I can.

So there!

******************************* 

But none of this is actually what I wanted to think about.

After the service I was asked to go to visit a lady in her room, as she was too weak to move from her bed.

Indeed, she is so very weak that she can barely muster the strength to speak.This makes for uncomfortable visits. I'm unsure on what basis the staff decided that she would like to see the vicar...I've not encountered any of her family, though when I signed in this afternoon her visitors had just left, so I have no idea whether she is a person of lifelong faith or someone seeking reassurance in a world where everything seems to be falling away.

This afternoon when I arrived, she was being given tea...

A nursing auxiliary spooned soup with infinite care and tenderness, teaspoon by patient teaspoon into a mouth that opened reflexively until C decided that she had had enough. As I watched them, - the carer, perhaps 18, possessed of a tranquil, unconscious beauty, the cared-for in her 90s, her features collapsing into themselves as can happen with the very aged, - the whole world seemed to shrink. Here life, potential, hope, confronted age, weariness, diminution...C seemed almost oblivious of the girl's presence. Only the opening mouth suggested that she was in any way involved in the process...but she seemed to draw strength as much from the attentive gentleness as from the food. The whole transaction was life-giving, to those involved and to me, the observor.

But then tea was over. "She's all yours" said the carer, departing.

C was silent. She usually is, though her mouth works constantly. Mistaking the situation, I offered her a drink and, laboriously, she whispered "No thank you" - but it cost her so much effort.

I was at a loss.

The staff had been sure that a visit from the vicar would be welcome, but now I was here I was unsure what I could offer.

I murmured a few soothing inanities, suggested that we might pray, then launched with some desperation into the Lord's Prayer, then a few words of intercession and blessing. Through it all, C appeared disengaged...no eye contact, no change in her demeanour, either positive or negative.

Would anointing be welcome?

Should I try to find a hand to hold, somewhere beneath the bedclothes? Should I touch her head in blessing?

Harmless gestures, - expressions of love and care in the right context, but as she lay there helpless, impassive, it seemed to me that they carried the potential for violation.

Amid the joy of broken relationships restored, and the wonder of a resurrection breakfast on the shore, John 21 carries this bleak little verse, the shape of things to come 

"I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."

With the best intentions, longing only to companion someone as they draw close to the end of their journey, I was mindful of becoming part of that process.

C., if I trespassed in your life, in your space, I'm so sorry.

Thank you for helping me to reflect a little on age, dependence, and the shadow of death. 

Pause for thought

Recently, as you'll have noticed, I've been rather an absent blogger.

There are lots of reasons for this.

One, of course, is general busyness and lack of reflective time.

Another is a growing sense that, while a curate could legitimately think aloud, an incumbent ought to know what she thinks before committing it to the internet.

Yet another a recognition that the more interesting bits of my life and ministry are pretty much unbloggable.

Add to that a sense, commented on far and wide, that the blogging phenomenon seems to have peaked.

I tweet alot (a perfect and speedy diversion from almost any given task), and have made new connections there, as well as keeping in touch with many blog friends there

So one way and another, I wondered if this blog's days were numbered.

I was pretty sure that I knew exactly who was reading me, - a small number of old friends, who dropped in out of loyalty when I actually got round to posting something.

I've never had one of those clever gizmos that tells me who is visiting, or from where.....)But just recently, that view has been challenged - and my world enlarged once more.

You see, one of the comments on this morning's homily for church on the hill came from Gabriele...

She wrote

In my country the ballot might be secret but the intimidation that precedes any election is terrible and destructive. Elections here are fraught with fraud and violence and very much them and us. And we are due another one sometime soon .... maybe.

Gabriele lives in Harare,  where she writes a rather lovely blog herself, "Floating in God's Sea"

Her perspective not only reminded me of the huge privilege of safe, free and fair elections that we enjoy unthinkingly in the UK, but also reawakened me to the excitement of a blogging community stretching across the world, to offer encouragement, challenge, fresh outlooks.

Parish ministry so easily becomes, unsurprisingly,all too parochial. But in the past week I've "met" not just Gabriele in Harare but other voices from other places, voices that make me think, remind me that my small world is just one tiny piece of the jigsaw.

I need these wider horizons and I'm rejoicing in them - so I guess that mean I need to keep on blogging.

Homily for Easter 5

There's a popular view, usually espoused by those who aren't Christians, that the church should keep well out of politics.

It's a view that is understandable if you understand faith and practice as a bolt-on extra, a refuge from the problems of life, but if you see your faith as something that shapes your whole world view, seven days a week,then clearly it's another matter.

I would never presume to tell anyone how to vote, and I'm thankful for the secret ballot that means we all have the space to vote according to our conscience without any fear, favour or peer pressure. It is a genuine blessing – and not something to be taken lightly.

But I do think that there are some underlying principles that might well guide our thoughts as we enter the polling station on Thursday....Though some of the Christian press might suggest otherwise, trying to guess how Jesus would vote is really a bit silly. We could find verses from all over the gospels to support eachl of the main parties, and a heap of others besides, but that wouldn't really help us much. Now, though, might be a good time to reread some of Christ's teachings for ourselves, if we want clear though challenging ethical guidelines. If we seriously want to see the world become a better place we could do worse than start with the sermon on the Mount, though we might not enjoy its conclusions....

The problem is that our electoral system is based fairly and squarly on adversarial politics. Through the past weeks we have heard as much about why X is wrong as we have about why Y is right. We have been encouraged to draw up battle lines, to define ourselves in partisan terms...

It's a natual human instinct, but not one that the gospel encourages.

Think of our reading from Acts...with its great message of inclusion.

Jesus was born into a culture that drew clear lines between those who were in and those who were out. His followers, not unreasonably, assumed that they were called to continue in the same way. Their risen Lord was a Saviour for the Jews...Why should they have to mix with Gentiles?

But then God showed Peter, and through him the whole church, the breadth of his love......

If then God gave them the same gift that he gave us when we believed in the Lord Jesus Christ, who was I that I could hinder God?"When they heard this, they were silenced. And they praised God, saying, "Then God has given even to the Gentiles the repentance that leads to life."

That's not something that is easy for us to grasp – any more than it was easy for the disciples. We cannot help but define the world in terms of them and us – and there's nothing wrong with that in itself. It's simply an expression of truth. However great our gifts of empathy, each of us always and only sees through her own eyes

BUT there is a danger when we use that perspective as a way of claiming our rights over and against those of other people, of asserting our superiority at the expense of others...Too much of the election campaign, across the parties, has played directly into our innate human greed...

We are encouraged to vote for the party most likely to benefit ourselves and people like us...I suspect, though, that this course of action isn't really open to us if we take our faith seriously.

Listen to Jesus – that's surely what we, who try to follow, must always seek to do.

I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.

That's it, really.

It goes against the grain, - of course it does. “Just as I have loved you” means unconditional, selfless love that holds nothing in reserve. We know where loving like that got Jesus – and it's hard to think of voting for that for ourselves...but then again, he never said it would be easy!

Love one another Just as I have loved you

That might mean that we find ourselves voting in ways we had never expected.

Think of the manifesto that Jesus delivered in the synagogue in Nazareth

“The spirit of the Lord God is upon me,

  because the Lord has anointed me;

he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed,

   to bind up the broken-hearted,

to proclaim liberty to the captives,

   and release to the prisoners;

It's the same agenda that Mary celebrated in the Magnificat...Challenging the powerful, lifting up the lowly, filling the hungry with good things, sending the rich away

Not so much election as revolution.

I'm not sure I've heard any of our candidates trying to sell themselves that way...though I hope if I had I would have the courage to vote for them.

On the whole, though,that's not the sort of policy that wins votes.

Nonetheless, as we ask God's blessing on our country and pray for wisdom at the ballot box, perhaps it's the yardstick against which we should measure all those who seek to lead and govern in the years ahead.

Bubbles

I had just come out of the Co-op...stopping off for a bottle of milk and a bag of salad after a funeral.

It had been raining, but the sky was clearing, and across the roofs of the parked cars I saw a trail of bubbles, catching the evening sun, gleaming in rainbow colours.

I stopped to enjoy them while weary shoppers trudged past me (it's interesting how rarely they seem to stride, rush, march in these parts...here in the valley, there are too many who are defeated by life, unsure that they have anything much worth hurrying towards)

I'm not sure if they even noticed this sudden gift of unexpected beauty on a Thursday evening.

Then, from behind the parked cars the source of the bubbles came in sight...Two girls, bright in summer cotton, heading with their mother towards the shop.

I thanked them for transforming my evening. Their mother smiled. I think she understood...

Friday Five - Friendship

Friendship

My friend Kathrynzj (with whom I shared a cabin on the very first RevGals Big Event, 2 years ago) is just home from this year's joyous reunion...and writes thus 

I spent the better part of last week on a continuing education cruise with a group of revgals. Both the class on hospitality and the connections made with friends (old and new) were phenomenal. I always have a difficult time with re-entry into reality from times away but this, aided by getting nailed with strep throat, has been more difficult than usual. Not only does it a take a few days (weeks? months?) for it to stop feeling like I am on a boat, but my heart misses my friends.

In parish life the boundaries are clear and they are there for a reason, but it can make the life of a minister a lonely one. It is such a tremendous gift to spend a few days with women who not only are wonderful and gifted, but who also get exactly what you do and why you do it. The hugs are genuine and free and the laughter is awesome.

Many of us have friendships - past and present - with these same qualities. And so today we will celebrate Friday with friendship:

1) Do you remember your first best friend? What did you do together? Are they still in your life?

C. and I met in the sandpit on our first day at school...We were both 4 years old. After a hiatus when we went to different schools, we reconnected in the 6th form and have never looked back. Her parents hosted my 18th birthday party in a wonderful barn conversion her father had just finished...At my 21st birthday party, she met her future husband. She is Godmother to my first born, as I am to hers...who celebrated HIS 21st birthday just this week. We dont see each other often now, as we're some three hours drive apart (which, in the UK, feels like a big deal), but when we do we always pick up exactly where we left off. We have shared so much - birth, death, joy, tears...I love her dearly.

2) Did you ever have to move away or have your best friend move away from you?

We were a fairly stable community growing up...S my other best friend, who felt more like a sister, went away to boarding school when I was 8 - I remember being supposed to be happy that she had won a place at the school she needed to attend,and just wanting to cry and cry because she would be going away and nothing would ever be the same again. As it happens, I was wrong...some friendships transcend even boarding school!

3) Are there people in your life now that you can call 'friend'?

Thanks be to God, there are indeed. I'm blessed with many wonderful women, (and some no less wonderful men)  many (though not all of them) clergy - because, you see, this is a VERY odd way to spend your life, and it does help if those whom you spend time with have some understanding of its many peculiarities. I have friends from the last parish who are now allowed to be proper friends, as the muddy waters have retreated...I even have one friend just across the road. But I am so exceedingly extrovert that I really need all of them - and can still feel quite forlorn and out on a limb occasionally. Having people about with whom it's safe to both laugh and cry without reserve is really important...Learning to make sure I spend time with my friends doing just that is something I'm working on this year...

4) What are some of your favorite things to do with your friends?

Walk with the dogs and talk as we go

Enjoy a curry and talk as we go

Share a bottle of red wine as the rain beats down and ......yes....that's the one

5) What is a gift friendship has given you?

The confidence to believe that I am loveable...None of the beloved people I call "friend" has any obligation to seek me out and spend time with me...that they do so, for no good reason beyond the fact that they want to, makes my world a shiney place.

Effective ministry in every parish??

That's the title of a report commissioned by FabBishop and currently making its way around deaneries, after a mixed reception at diocesan synod.
It's central premise is  that each community needs, and thus each community already has, a "God person" - someone  prayerful, holy, to whom people naturally turn when they have a spiritual need.Thinking of the Cotswold villages where I served as a Reader, each place did indeed have such a person - and when Local Ministry came on the scene, they were early and obvious members of the LMT. In larger urban or suburban communities, though such people might be obvious to the church family, they won't be evident to the wider world so some form of official category begins to be helpful...
So far, so good.


Now we're revisiting the same issue - with the thought that all such "God people" should be trained, accredited, licensed. Some might discern a call to Local Ordained Ministry, others would become Locally Licensed Ministers.
It's causing all sorts of upset.
On the one hand, there's anxiety and indignation that those who are actually doing the business, acting as resources for prayer and pastoring in (particularly) rural communities should be asked to jump through further hoops by way of training and accreditation. There's worry that the end product of the whole initiative might simply be a new tier of ordained ministry, and a way of propping up structures of church that need to be challenged, changed, transformed...There's worry too that licensed Readers and Local Ministry Team members might feel sidelined and undervalued as energy is channelled into the new scheme.
Then there's a different sort of anxiety, that some communities might simply not have any identifiable candidates. I think that might be the case in one of my parishes,-so there has been talk about the scheme leading simply to the publication of details of a "first call" person for crises in each location.....perhaps a Church Warden. That sounds more attainable, but loses sight of the initial vision of holiness.
Further upset.

It seems to me that once again we are in real danger of confusing ministry with function.  I have just had to write a report for the Bishop about the Herring of Christ's diaconal year. It's been a good one, I think, though absolutely unlike my own experience as a full time stipendiary curate. He has other responsibilities, other spheres on ministry and I think that for the moment the parish will continue to take second place...So what does this mean for his priesthood. Will he be jetted in as a "Mass Priest" - able to preside at the Eucharist in one community, but acting as the holy person most consistently in another (his workplace)? He can and will carry out the liturgical functions of priesthood, but his priestly formation and the fullest expression of his ministry is in his weekday community where I, his training incumbent, have absolutely no points of reference, nor any legitimate access...It has led to some interesting conversations through the year, and I hope that the report that I submitted will stimulate similar discussions on high. In my final paragraph I described the diocesan template for the year as rather a procrustean bed...I spent too long worrying about our inability to conform to something based on a different sort of ministry altogether, and have doubtless missed out on, and failed to celebrate,the many God-moments that have not fitted into the confines of parish life.


I have a feeling that there is a connection between all these half understandings of the nature of ministry - but I can't quite articulate what I think it is. It has taken me over a week to not really finish this post...I'm certain that if the church (including me) cannot decide what we actually mean by ministry, we'll go on failing those people whom we are called to serve...


Ministry in a time of transition is no easier than anything else. Not being sure where we are going as Church, it's very hard to work out how best to get there...but I'm pretty certain that looking backwards over our shoulders is unlikely to work.

Which is a shame, as I do love being a parish priest...

Morning Prayer in the Garden.

Lord God, you draw us by your beauty
and transform us by your holiness;
let our worship echo all creation’s praise
and declare your glory to the nations;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Isn't that lovely? It's the prayer provided in the Common Worship psalter at the end of psalm 96, one of those set for today. Because we never used those prayers in my training parish, I've tended not to engage with them often myself - but as I prayed the Office on this perfect spring morning these words said all that I needed.

Maybe it's time to review my approach in this season of new beginnings.

Easter 3 Year C

One day, I may actually get the opportunity to engage with the text and write a whole sermon from scratch once more...This week, which looked so gentle, but turned to bite me on the bum, is not the week - so I'm thankful that I can re-work an oldie from my curacy, and hope it will pass muster.

Two weeks ago, when some of us gathered on Holy Saturday night for perhaps the most significant service of the whole liturgical year, we rejoiced in a baptism. For centuries all baptisms were reserved for this Vigil service. It was the pivot around which the whole year was structured - and so the readings from scripture for the Great Fifty Days between Easter and Pentecost were chosen to help the entire Christian community understand the meaning of their baptism and of their life in Christ. Those themes are still clear in the readings today. In the Common Worship service, as in the rites of the early church there is one specially striking question Do you turn to Christ? In the early church, candidates literally turned at this point from the west, the direction of sunset and their old way of life, towards the east…sun rise, a new dawn…That's what we're recalling when we turn to face east during the Creed…And since we recite the Creed Sunday by Sunday, we are given a weekly reminder of our own continued need to change direction.

Turning, repenting, changing our focus should be a daily activity for us- and it’s demonstrated in our readings by both Peter and Paul. Saul/Paul, after all, could be adopted as the patron saint for of all of us who've ever realised we were facing the wrong way. Having done everything in his power to suppress the strange new cult that seemed to be threatening the cherished traditions of his Jewish faith, he found himself confronted with unmistakeable evidence that he had got it all wrong...So he made a U turn, and set forth with equal zeal in precisely the opposite direction...Having recognised the error of his ways, he made the most of his second chance, and from his conversion flowed so much else.

For Peter, things were very different. We all believe that where there is life there's hope – but for Peter it seemed as if all hope was extinguished. What could he do but repent, alone at the end of a long Good Friday?

Poor Peter.

On one level, his feelings are a normal reaction to bereavement. After a death, survivors are gripped by all sorts of feelings, - grief, of course, relief possibly, but often guilt as well, no matter how unjustified, unreasonable or downright silly. My father was unable to eat at all in the last 2 weeks of his life – but after his death I beat myself up for some months because I had not, as I’d promised, made him some of the cheese scones he so much enjoyed. I would have loved to have been able to put the clock back…to cut short the exam revision and do some baking instead. It felt as if that would have made all the difference to my ability to cope with his death. Silly, I know. It wouldn’t have made any difference to anything…but grief is rarely rooted in common sense and guilt is so often part of the package.

Feelings rise in a tide that can threaten to engulf us even after a “Good death”. Suddenly, things seem to be irreversible and there are too often unresolved issues words unspoken and deeds regretted,

Small wonder that we’re prone to thinking

“If only I could have him back, just for long enough to put things right – then I’d be able to move on”

Just one more chance….

Usually, those guilty feelings are simply our reaction to our own survival in a world which someone beloved has left…but occasionally, there are real grounds for contrition.

And we can’t put the clock back. There are no more chances.

We can repent as much as we like but we can’t hear the words of forgiveness we seek from the lips that we long for. And that’s hard, very hard – even if there's actually little reason to reproach ourselves.


But of course, it was different for Peter, wasn’t it.

He had a genuine reason to beat himself up – reason enough to wallow in misery till the end of his days. He has let his best friend down and catastrophe has followed.

So we find him days, a week perhaps after that fateful Passover weekend, mired in guilt and regret.

He longs to put the clock back – but since he can’t, he decides to pretend that the whole Jesus event, this wonderfully exciting chapter of his life, never really happened.

It’s easy to imagine the disciples, sitting round in a dispirited huddle until suddenly Peter takes the initiative.

“Right. That’s it. The past is over. He’s not coming back. – so let’s get on with our real lives. I’m going fishing…”

The wheel has come full circle. Peter is heading back to the beginning. He had been called away from his accustomed business but now that his dreams have been shown to be delusions, where else can he go but back to the boats? Fishing is in his blood. It’s who he is. Peter the fisherman, back at his nets.

And the others join him.

The comfort of familiar things, familiar places….

Again, quite a common reaction to grief – a way of trying to pretend that recent events just haven’t happened, so we act as if we really can put the clocks back.

If the world is changing around you, clinging to the tried and trusted seems the best thing to do.

But even this comfort is denied the disciples…for a long cold night out on the lake nets precisely nothing.

If Peter needed any confirmation that the world has gone awry, this must surely have provided it.

He can’t even make it as a fisherman any longer.

Deep gloom.

And then, as in each of the resurrection appearances, Jesus is there, changing everything.

First, he recognises their situation.

“You have no fish, have you?”

Then he offers them a remedy.

“Put your net out on the other side. Change direction yourselves. It will make all the difference.”

Another U turn….and a fruitful one.

This time, having learned their lesson three years earlier, the disciples take his advice without demur, and are duly rewarded, not just with a bumper catch but with the sight of the One they most long to see.

But everything has changed after the resurrection – even Jesus! There’s something unrecognisably different about him. And so it’s as though he appears for the first time again. This is a new commissioning to a new ministry…

Here’s Peter, trapped between love and loyalty. It’s his love that makes him respond as he does,- impulsively leaping out of the boat to reach his Master as fast as he can. He’s always loved Jesus like that .But being ruled by his feelings he was also particularly vulnerable to his fears…It was those fears that spoke in the courtyard as he denied his Lord, and his own love for Jesus. Can you imagine the inner turmoil he’s been wrestling with? Not only did Jesus die, but he died believing (as far as Peter was concerned) that Peter did not love him.

John’s gospel doesn't tell us whether Peter has actually encountered the risen Jesus before this…Perhaps like Thomas he too had been away, missed out…or had hesitated, hidden among the press of disciples crowding round in the upper room, conscious of his own consuming shame.

If ever there was someone who needed to hear words of absolution, it’s Peter and in this new world of restoration and second chances Jesus offers him the chance to take back those words he wishes he had never said.

Three times he asks the question that has been tormenting Peter:

“Do you love me?”

Three denials balanced by three chances to affirm his love afresh, three opportunities for forgiveness.


In human terms, forgiveness is one thing but trust in quite another. After we’ve been let down, disappointed in a significant way, we may try to forgive but the reality for most of us is that mistrust and anxiety cloud the relationship from then on.

We may manage to get along on a superficial basis, but we’re unlikely to make ourselves truly vulnerable to someone who has let us down…

But with Jesus, things are rather different.

Peter is not just told

“There there, it doesn’t matter”

He is confirmed in his vocation as the rock on which the church will be built. He’s not to be a fisherman but a shepherd.

A new identity for him, as for Saul (turned from persecutor to apostle).A new certainty, for all of them, that they are now heading in the right direction, following the One who is way, truth and light.

To encounter the risen Christ is to be challenged, challenged and changed.

He forces us to reflect on our own direction, our practice of life and faith. Perhaps like Saul we’re side-tracked by legalism or by the fine print of observance, and have missed the living reality of Christ staring us in the face? Maybe we’re so intent on getting it “right” that we have forgotten why “it” exists at all?

Perhaps we’re conscious of failures and shortcomings, of lacking the courage of our convictions, of putting safety before radical love. But the message of Resurrection is that transformation is possible, if we can accept it.

We’re bound to fail, gloriously, ignobly, repeatedly.

But thanks to the transforming power of the resurrection, we mustn’t give up even on ourselves.

Do you turn to Christ? Do you accept the reality of his resurrection for yourself….because it happened to him so that it could happen, likewise, to the world.

Resurrection, never resuscitation. This is not a question of putting the clocks back and undoing the past,- but of moving with joyful confidence into a future beyond our imaginings.

And so by the grace of God we find ourselves at Eastertide gazing in wonder at a world made new, a world of grace and Life and Light.,a place of transformation. Easter Sunday is not just the first day of a new week: it is the dawn of a new creation and things can never be the same again.

And, in the light of that new dawn, Jesus invites us to come and eat with him.

Thanks be to God!

Pack your Bags Friday Five

I'm preparing to pack my bags for the Big Event Three, and as I gather what I need I'm thinking about just that: what do I *need* to take with me? As a person who likes to pack light, I worry that in the end I may underpack and wish I had other things with me.  I own the gigantor version of the bag to the right, but my morbid fear of having it go astray and not get to the ship means I'm more likely to try to pack it all in a carry-on bag instead, especially since I have a very tight connection on the way to the cruise. But won't I be sorry if I don't bring _______________?

Thus writes my dear friend Songbird, who is about to set forth on the third RevGals BE...Can it really be 2 years since we embarked on the first one? That seems incredible in itself, without the added realisation that I've not used my posh suitcase, brought for the event and with Serious Travelling in mind, even once since. Holidays on Polyphony are only notionally concerned with the contents of the suitcase...the boat is very much home from home, and every bit as scruffy as the vicarage on a bad Sunday night, so packing has a rather different feel. But there was so much hope and excitement represented when I purchased my lovely pink suitcase...so I couldn't bear to miss out on the game....Here are Songbird's questions.

1) Some fold, some roll and some simply fling into the bag. What's your technique for packing clothes?
Does anyone need to ask? Do I sound like a careful packer?? Everything is flung in as best I can, then I generally sit on the lot to ensure that extra things can be accommodated...Don't know what I'd do if I were ever to go somewhere where formal wear was required at it would undoubtedly arrive resembling a dishcloth collection (it could be a problem even at home, actually...the only hint of a professional wardrobe is the presence of clergy shirts, and some of those are t shirt type)

2) The tight regulations about carrying liquids on planes makes packing complicated. What might we find in your quart-size bag? Ever lose a liquid that was too big?
Contact lens fluid is the issue for me...Last time I flew I was only using glasses, but now I'm back to a contact lens there might be all sorts of  issues arising. I've always TRIED to travel light, though, so quantities of liquid have never been on the agenda.

3) What's something you can't imagine leaving at home?
My beloved Nokia N97. Sad, isn't it. Once upon a time I would have said a journal and pens...and they still matter but.........connection is all!

4) Do you have a bag with wheels?
Said pink suitcase does indeed have wheels...and I was v grateful as I negotiated my way across America 2 years ago..and even more grateful as we trekked towards the ferry terminal in New Orleans. I also have a smaller, overnight sized, wheelie case which my m-i-l gave me some years ago, clearly hoping that sensible luggage might have an impact on the relative sense of her son's wife. Bit of a failure, that...

5) What's your favorite reading material for a non-driving trip (plane, train, bus, ship)?
Pretty much anything! I love that there's no possible guilt-factor in spending the journey time reading, though I do fret about running out of print...Clearly books need to be light in weight, but not necessarily in content. Coming home from BE1 I read all the Ann Lamott's that NOLA airport could supply, as I knew they'd be harder to find here. I do read alarmingly fast, so it's hopeless to try and take enough reading matter with me...thus I prefer to take books I won't miss if I have to discard them in order to have something fresh to read later on the journey. Can't remember what I actually took with me when I headed out 2 years ago, but suspect I left it on the ship, whatever it was..I try to read an English language newspaper from the country I'm visiting too - the Times of India was a regular delight during my time there...

Work in progress

Another session with the Shiny Work Consultant yesterday.Conversation ranged far and wide around myriad aspects of parish life and clerical chaos theory.This hasn't been a great week for work/life balance here at the vicarage. First there was the discovery of a couple of impossible double-bookings, occasioned by my tendency to believe that I'll REMEMBER fun things that I really want to do (sadly no: I very nearly committed myself to conduct a baptism on a SATURDAY when I should have been at not one but two weddings...) and by the folly of thinking that I can even see straight during Holy Week, still less take hall bookings in a responsible way.

Learning points there: abandon attempts to handle hall bookings (which I only took on as a temporary measure almost a year ago now)...Once something is handed on, don't worry about the details of how it is done - it will almost certainly work out, though not necessarily as you've envisaged, and that's no bad thing.

Write everything down immediately if not sooner, in red if it's fun.

Though when I returned home from holiday there were several promising gaps in the diary, a wedding couple, a funeral and a hospital visit soon ensured that the space that I'd imagined using for thoughtful work on a few biggish projects soon dwindled to nothing.

Learning point: write in preparation time...It absolutely has to happen, and burning midnight oil is rarely a route to achieving the best

On Monday, a small group of clergybirds met in my sitting room to talk about Justin's book. We are all contemporaries in ministry, who recognised that when we finished the CME1-4 training and were launched as fully-fledged incumbents we would miss the regular contact which the monthly doses of curate training had ensured...We also worried that we might never read a serious book again, so planned a regular reading group. 2 years on, I think we have actually managed to read 4 or maybe even 5 books (let's see...there was "Blue like Jazz" (which we largely hated)  

"Take this Bread" (even split...I loved it but others were unimpressed...) "Tokens of Trust" (did we actually discuss this...or were we sidetracked by Life along the way?) 

"Velvet Elvis" (still great - though this was by no means my first reading of it) and this time "If you meet George Herbert....". It says alot about the way life spirals out of control that it proves so hard to actually read books that I have suggested, or to find time to discuss them with people whom I want to see...and it's not much consolation that it's just as hard for the others too. Symptoms, symptoms...

Hence our decision to read "If you meet..." Sooo much of the book resonated with our own experience...I'm still giggling ruefully about the train-spotting vicar who, when quizzed about his daily pilgrimage to the railway line said

"It's good to see one thing in the parish that I don't have to run" : sometimes this can feel so close to the truth.

BUT (sorry Justin) we could see ourselves using the book, with all its hard-won knowledge, as another weapon with which to beat ourselves. I loved the balance in the suggested Rule of Life but the thought of even trying to implement it myself filled me with a wholly unwelcome panic. Yes, I want time to read, time to study, time to write, time to grow - but not at the cost of relationships within these parishes...I can and will attempt at monthly reading day, but more than that simply wouldn't help me. And that's what it's about, isn't it...Finding a route to enable flourishing in every aspect of life...If it works, splendid...if not, put it down. Yes?

For the moment, I'm committed to  the SCP Rule  , which should keep me on track spiritually, and any addenda are likely to result in my throwing in the towel altogether.

That's what's so fabulous about Shiny WorkConsultant. She recognises the struggles and issues for ENFPs in any sort of planning, understands that I will always throw caution to the winds and timetables out the window if I think someone "needs me" (whatever that might mean) and is prepared to start where I am and help me find a route through, that I actually have a hope of taking.

So this time I've come home fired with enthusiasm for bright pink star shaped memos, writing "to do's" on red  paper, and encouraging the congregation to write in a notebook those things they'd like me to attend to. It's really not great to keep on washing reminders to "Pray for X" or "Visit Y" when the notes get left in a pocket after the Sunday Eucharist!

I might even try and manage the diary, at least a little bit. Next week includes 2 important bits of writing...perhaps I could factor them in to the planning now. How's that for revolution? 

Important PS I'm very aware that wise and wonderful friends have been saying all of this to me for months, if not years. Please don't think I've not heard your advice or tried to follow it...It just takes a very long time to turn round a liner, and your wisdom (some of which remains blutacked above the desk, beside my bed AND on the front door) is almost certainly the only reason I had the courage to ask Shiny Work Consultant for help at all.

Unconscious mutterings

I have zillions of photos of Holy Week and a good few of our gentle cruise up the Avon, which I really would like to post soon. One day I may even find time for some real blogging again - but for now, because it's Sunday, here's another installment of the procrastinators' delight......

1. Habit ::bad
2. Relaunch ::company
3. Mondays :: I don't like
4. Bootstrap ::pull up by
5. Funk ::blue
6. Appreciate ::assets
7. Yay! ::done it! (with reference to three months of expenses - oh the shame!)
8. Life :: class
9. Sheets ::blank
10. Date night ::Friday

Unconscious Mutterings again

1. Philanthropy :: Quaker
2. Said :: sung
   
3. Blanks :: fired
4. Tapas :: olives
5. Orgasm :: chocolate
6. Movement :: symphony
7. Detention :: centre
8. Restaurant :: universe (at the end of)
9. Weird :: sisters
   
10. Sniffle :: cold

Because I'm not convinced that Easter is really all it should be without Evensong, & this anthem....

One more piece of perfect Good Friday music....Crux Fidelis by John of Portugal

Homily for Good Friday at Church in the Valley

I wrote something like this last year, but in the event I didn't need to use it - so I preached it this afternoon. I'm pretty certain that I borrowed a chunk of it from elsewhere, - but cannot for the life of me remember where...so if you recognise your own words, my apologies for not thanking you by name, and my gratitude for kick starting my thoughts too.

Every year, the same question…what’s so good about Friday.

This year it was voiced by a 10 year old who had just finished the first 5 stations of the Experience Easter trail & was brimming with frustrated anger at the pain he had recognised in the 100s of post-its that were covering this cross

GOOD Friday? I don’t think so

It is a hard day for most of us.

Are you against capital punishment?

To-day we are forced to remember it.

Do you see Jesus as wholly innocent & good?

Today we remember his agonising death as a traitor

Do you trust that virtue is rewarded?

Today tells a different story..

And are you fearful of death?

Today we have to stare it in the face

But it is, nonetheless, Good Friday…and actually the truth of its goodness lies deep in the pain of the world, is recorded on each one of those post-its, that fell like autumn leaves around the cross.

Good Friday is the day when those who suffer find hope, because God is suffering with them.

God knows the suffering of those who could with integrity claim the "suffering servant" passages of Isaiah as their own story, those who might find themselves voicing the Psalms of lament as their own song.

God knows the suffering of the poor, the refugees and the displaced, of those who live in fear in occupied territories, of those who have lost their jobs, their homes, their self-confidence.

God knows the suffering of the hungry and the outcast, of the meek whom the world delights to trample on.

God knows the grief of the grieving, the pain of betrayal at the hands of those from whom you expected friendship.

God knows the anguish, the terrible loneliness of one who is suffering all of these things, - and even the desolation of feeling yourself abandoned by God.

God knows all of this pain, personally and profoundly, because God suffered it all in the person of Jesus.

Our Lord naked on the cross, vulnerable to insects and birds, to sun and wind, and to the cruellest of creatures, human beings whose humanity has been twisted by violence ...Our Lord hanging there is an icon to the poor, suffering, and vulnerable that says:

You are not abandoned.

The broken body of the Christ is not some garment that God tried on, didn't like, and tossed aside in favour of more festive Easter finery; it is an icon of who God is in God's eternal nature.

The risen Christ will forever bear the print of the nails.

God was and is and always will be, there with, at one with, suffering with, the suffering, the outcast, the poor.

At Christmas we celebrate Emmanuel, God with us.

Today as we look at the cross we see God with us again in all the pain & dereliction of broken human flesh.

And why is he there?

Not to appease a wrathful deity demanding recompense for sin.

Oh no…

God loved the world so much

Christ on the cross shows us that there is nothing, nothing that God will not do to show us we are loveable.

It was not the nails that held him there – it was love…love that, in just three days, showed itself to be stronger than death.

 

One day I will once again be part of a church that can sing these on Good Friday

Crucifixus etiam pro nobis - Lotti

Homily for Maundy Thursday

For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

A few weeks ago, The Herring of Christ (TM) and I were reflecting on the Last Supper...

Why, he wondered, was it the breaking of bread that became the Sacrament of Christ's presence for his followers?

Why did the church not place equal emphasis on the washing of feet?

After all, St John, from whose gospel our reading came tonight, doesn't even mention the breaking of bread at the Last Supper (it's there at an earlier feast - but not in this pivotal place on the night before the crucifixion)

So why, when Jesus told us to carry out both actions have we chosen simply to focus on bread and wine as the centrepiece of our devotions?

I suspect the reasons are many and complicated.Breaking and sharing bread, blessing and sharing wine was already an integral part of all formal Jewish meals.It wasn't a new ritual, or one restricted to the Passover - it was a completely natural practice for all of Jesus' disciples...but at the Last Supper it is invested with a new meaning. As so often, we have translation to thank for some of the confusion and suspicion that has been felt and voiced at the idea that we are consuming the body and blood of Christ...Listen to these words from Bosco Peters, a NZ priest who writes

"We regularly bring to our reading of the scriptures a Greek philosophical concept of a person being a “soul” – and “having” a body. Hebrew and Aramaic language regularly used “body” for “person” and .....identified “blood” with “life”. Jesus breaking bread and offering a cup of wine was saying: “this is me – my self and my life – I am giving you my self and my life – do this in remembrance of me.”

An amazing reality.

Christ's self, his life, entrusted to us in bread and wine...

Awe ful.

So, through the centuries the church, perhaps mindful that we seem to find it easier to worship the God we've not seen than the neighbour over the fence, has allowed us to focus on this mandate,

"Do this in remembrance of me"

And hoped we could take the other “you also should do as I have done for you” for granted.

The problem is that it seems much easier to care for others, to wash their feet, than to accept care ourselves

It's not so very surprising

Foot washing, you see, is intimate, embarassing....it makes us uncomfortable just thinking about it (remember how it made Peter feel, and it was part of everyday life for him!)It's always a struggle to find a collection of people willing to let their feet be washed in church, even just once a year.

Feet are rarely our most beautiful feature (no matter what the Bible tells us about the feet of those who preach good news) and we prefer to keep them safely hidden from view...

Perhaps we worry that taking off our shoes and revealing the corns, callouses and peeling nail varnish we may accidentally reveal other equally unsavoury aspects of ourselves....that the God we find unexpectedly kneeling at our feet may see us in all our vulnerability and muddle.

MAY see us?

Of course he does...He sees us, as he knows us, through and through...and as he sees us, he loves us.

As I took groups of children round the Experience Easter stations this year, it was the activity at the font that provoked the most thoughtful responses. We considered the title "Servant King", pondering how such contradictions might be joined in the person of Jesus. One small boy changed my understanding forever as he said

"Jesus understands exactly how it is to be anyone...it doesn't matter how different they  are,  what  they look like to other people...Jesus knows how it is because he has been there - from servant to king. He understands children and bullies too".

Jesus, in one action,  giving us not just a model for Christian life, but a glimpse of the heart of the God who knows us all inside out and loves us just the same....

George Herbert, priest and poet, grasped this when he wrote

LOVE bade me welcome; yet my soul drew back

Guilty of dust and sin

But quick-eyed Love, observing me grow slack

 From my first entrance in,

 Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning

If I lack'd anything.

'A guest,' I answer'd, 'worthy to be here:'

Love said, 'You shall be he.'

I, the unkind, ungrateful? Ah, my dear,

I cannot look on Thee.'

 Love took my hand and smiling did reply,

'Who made the eyes but I?'

Truth, Lord; but I have marr'd them: let my shame

Go where it doth deserve.'

'And know you not,' says Love, 'Who bore the blame?'

My dear, then I will serve.

'You must sit down,' says Love, 'and taste my meat.'

So I did sit and eat.

Let us celebrate that amazing love as we accept his gracious invitation to

“Take, eat...”