It''s That Simple

It was a cool morning, although the first rays of sun appearing were a sign it wouldn’t remain that way. I can remember thinking – wondering I suppose – where I might be walking to without the generosity of Joseph, the Arimathean – for a member of the Sanhedrin it was a dangerous act to provide us with a tomb, but who knows where I would have been heading if he hadn’t.

The first thing I felt was confusion – as soon as I entered the garden, I knew something wasn’t right – you get that feeling sometimes, don’t you? That first hint, the slightest perception, of things not being as they should be.

After the confusion, or maybe alongside it, was the fear, seeing that huge boulder moved from the entrance – something that took a dozen of us to put in place – I knew for certain then – thought I knew – that our Lord’s body had been taken, stolen away, only God knows for what end.

I was too churned up to look inside, terrified of what I might see, without knowing what any of us could do I ran back to where we were lodged (praise God for our protectors) and I saw Simon Peter and John speaking by the door.

I must have looked like a wild woman, completely incoherent, I no idea what I might say to them.

Peter asked “Mary, what is it, what’s happened?!”

Barely able to speak, something just burbled out between the tears. John of course wrote it down later:

‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’ He reports I exclaimed, between the sobs.

Once they’d taken this in, they looked at each other with the same panicked expression that must have been on my face, touched my arm, and ran back in the direction I’d come from.

At this point I could barely catch my breath, but I turned and followed them back, my chest and calves burning, unable to keep up with them at all. I could see that John had got ahead of Peter, but when I eventually caught up, I could see John just standing at the entrance, finding himself unable to enter.

For once I was thankful for Peter’s impulsive nature, he overcame our collective fears to enter the tomb, whilst John and I seemed rooted to the spot, although in all honestly, I was so exhausted from running there and back that I’d sunk down to ground by this point, my breathing loud and laboured as my body recovered.

Peter emerged so quietly, a look of incomprehension on his face. He told us how the linen wrappings were just lying there, and that the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head was separate, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself.

This is where John had to see for himself, also entering the tomb, seeing that all was as Peter had said. Now, you must understand that despite everything we’d experienced with the teacher, everything we’d been told and witnessed, none of us yet understand the scripture that told us He must rise from the dead.

With no understanding of what this meant or where Jesus’ body might be, the men left, returning to the house.

And I sat, and I wept. I wept from fear, I wept from confusion and frustration, but mostly I wept from grief, and from love. I wept because I was confronted with the reality of Jesus’ death, and now I couldn’t even mourn his body, or honour him with our traditions.

Between my sobs, I felt compelled to look for myself, to see what the men had seen, to know with my own eyes that it was true. I heaved my exhausted body from the ground and stooped to look inside the tomb. But I didn’t see what Peter and John had seen.

I’ll probably sound like a mad woman – probably this whole story makes me sound like a mad woman – but I don’t care, I saw what I saw, and I believe what I saw.

When I looked inside the tomb, I saw what I can only describe as two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. They must have been angels, there were certainly not of the earth. And they spoke to me, or at least I heard the words inside my head, it’s hard to explain when you’ve encountered angels!

They asked me: ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ and I’m sure I repeated the words John tells me I said to him: ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’

I often wonder what they might have replied if I hadn’t at that point become aware of someone standing behind me. Not knowing if it was of the men returned, another disciple come to grieve or a soldier alerted by our comings and goings, I turned sharply to see the gardener in front of me, or the person I presumed was the gardener by his appearance.

He repeated the words of the angels – making me think for a moment I’d imagined them and this man had been saying the words all along. ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ – a ridiculous question to a woman visiting a tomb! Before I could answer he questioned ‘For whom are you looking?’

Beginning to retain some semblance of rational thought – despite all I’d experienced before the sun was even fully risen – it struck me that this man may have seen something, if he tended to this place, he would maybe know who had come and gone, or maybe even he’d been paid or instructed to move Jesus by the authorities?

I took a breath, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ I looked into his eyes, silently pleading.

His response was just one word, ‘Mary’. And in an instant I knew. He said my name, as He had done so many times, but this time I felt it’s resonance through my entire body. With one word my eyes were opened, and I saw Jesus stood before me, and I knew more than ever that my soul and body would for the rest of my life be a living sacrifice to him.

“Teacher!” I exclaimed and dropped to my knees. I needed to touch him, to kiss his feet, to anoint them with my tears which were now tears of joy, but he stepped back from my reach.

“Do not hold on to me Mary, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

And then, I don’t know if he was gone or if I turned, but I was running once more back to the town and to the others, still so confused but with a surety of what I needed to do for our Lord, our Jesus, our rabbi – our Christ, The Messiah! Oh my God, my God! It was all true. He is my God.

I’ll never know why He chose me as the first witness – as the first to share the news and make sense of his teachings. In three days he had risen again, he told us so many times this would be so but until this moment we had never truly understood.

I banged on the door of our lodging house – I didn’t care if I was seen or heard, not anymore. I told them quite simply “I have seen the Lord”, then recounted all these things I have told you here.

They heard my testimony, and they believed, and that belief spread. We told people the good news – that we have a God who knows us, who came to live alongside us, who has shared our joys and our griefs, who has shared our food, who knows what it is to strive - who knows no one is holy enough to obey all the laws of moses and so gives us the most simple instruction; to love.

To love God and each other. It’s that simple. Our God is the God of love.

Amen

Sermon based upon John 20:1-18

20Early on the first day of the week, while it was still dark, Mary Magdalene came to the tomb and saw that the stone had been removed from the tomb. 2So she ran and went to Simon Peter and the other disciple, the one whom Jesus loved, and said to them, ‘They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.’ 3Then Peter and the other disciple set out and went towards the tomb. 4The two were running together, but the other disciple outran Peter and reached the tomb first. 5He bent down to look in and saw the linen wrappings lying there, but he did not go in. 6Then Simon Peter came, following him, and went into the tomb. He saw the linen wrappings lying there, 7and the cloth that had been on Jesus’ head, not lying with the linen wrappings but rolled up in a place by itself. 8Then the other disciple, who reached the tomb first, also went in, and he saw and believed; 9for as yet they did not understand the scripture, that he must rise from the dead. 10Then the disciples returned to their homes.

11 But Mary stood weeping outside the tomb. As she wept, she bent over to look a into the tomb; 12and she saw two angels in white, sitting where the body of Jesus had been lying, one at the head and the other at the feet. 13They said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping?’ She said to them, ‘They have taken away my Lord, and I do not know where they have laid him.’ 14When she had said this, she turned round and saw Jesus standing there, but she did not know that it was Jesus. 15Jesus said to her, ‘Woman, why are you weeping? For whom are you looking?’ Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.’ 16Jesus said to her, ‘Mary!’ She turned and said to him in Hebrew, b ‘Rabbouni!’ (which means Teacher). 17Jesus said to her, ‘Do not hold on to me, because I have not yet ascended to the Father. But go to my brothers and say to them, “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.” ’ 18Mary Magdalene went and announced to the disciples, ‘I have seen the Lord’; and she told them that he had said these things to her.

Leaving the Sheep Fold

There’s going to be a lot of sheep metaphors today because the 4th Sunday of Easter is also called Good Shepherd Sunday. If we were to have our full set of readings we would hear the Shepherd and their sheep evoked in Psalm 23; by St Peter’s writings; and we would hear of those very first Christians in the Book of Acts living out a version of Jesus’ gospel teaching. 

There must be something important in what Jesus is trying to get across to his listeners in this passage because he’s using an image that comes up again and again throughout the Hebrew Scriptures. As well as probably the best known psalm, the shepherd metaphor is used by Isaiah, Ezekiel, Micah…Jesus must be trying to communicate something important about God’s character and intention, and how his hearer’s should respond to that, even if, as we heard in the gospel account, they weren’t quite grasping it.

I remember on this Sunday five years ago Huw’s dad came to preach- I don’t always remember sermons I must admit but that one stuck with me. He spoke of God’s care for each and every one of us. We’d just entered an interregnum so we were a flock without a shepherd; now we have a shepherd, but the sheep are scattered, unable to be physically gathered in our fold.

It’s an incredibly unsettling time as clergy, and all those involved in church leadership, and our team here at St Michael’s, try to work out what shepherding our flock looks like in lockdown- and beyond as we imagine what church and community may be like when the world, probably quite slowly, begins to emerge from isolation.

We also have the challenge of looking to the ultimate Good Shepherd, Jesus himself, and wondering how we live that God-infused abundant life in our varying situations right now.

The Good Shepherd has for centuries been used as the ultimate model of how a “good Priest” should lead, it’s written into our ordination rites, and is what I would hope we each aspire to. Jesus describes the shepherd as a gatekeeper, but gates can be used to keep people out or let people in, admission or exclusion.

Our task is finding ways to nurture and feed our community which admit as many as possible and exclude as few as possible. As we find these new ways of worshipping and sharing our faith we’re admitting new people through the gate, but at the same time these new ways aren’t accessible or helpful to all members of our community and they may feeling excluded or shut out.

But there is good news here for those of us worried about the flock, concerned that we aren’t able to care for all as we’d wish. 

In the shepherding metaphor we, the people of God are the sheep. Now your impression of sheep may be that they're kind of skittish and none too bright but if you’ve spent any time with them you come the realise they’re also pretty tough, they’re hardy and resilient creatures. They're out in all weathers, in all terrains and in all circumstances. 

Also, they don't require constant attention, they're pretty good at just getting on and doing their own thing without their Shepherd being constantly present- they just check in every now and again to make sure one of the flock isn't in bother. 

Essentially sheep are equipped for survival, if we're God's "sheep" that means we’re equipped for survival too!

We're experiencing a pretty tough time right now but I truly believe we are designed for tough times. Having faith isn't a magic bullet to protect us from times like these but part of what helps pull us through and weather the storm, knowing we aren't on our own; the shepherd may not always be in sight, but they're never too far from us either.

I read a couple of articles this week on the Patheos website by a David Roberts and they gave me a new perspective on the shepherding metaphor.

We see the sheep fold as the place of safety, maybe as our home or church, or the traditions of our faith that bring us comfort- but where is the shepherd? Not in the fold.

To lead us to the green pastures we hear of in that famous psalm, to the abundant life promised by Jesus, The shepherd calls us out from the fold, we follow their voice as we’re led through the wilderness and eventually we will make it to those green pastures to the life Jesus intends for us.

To all of us who’re trying to lead: please try not to worry, the flock know the shepherd’s voice and are a hardy bunch, built to weather the storm. And to us the flock; trust the voice you know is God’s, follow where it leads. We will weather the storm, we will pass through the wilderness and there will, eventually, be in green pastures. Amen.

John 10.1-10

‘Very truly, I tell you, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold by the gate but climbs in by another way is a thief and a bandit. The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep hear his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow him because they know his voice. They will not follow a stranger, but they will run from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.’ Jesus used this figure of speech with them, but they did not understand what he was saying to them.

So again Jesus said to them, ‘Very truly, I tell you, I am the gate for the sheep. All who came before me are thieves and bandits; but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate. Whoever enters by me will be saved, and will come in and go out and find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and have it abundantly.

Broken Bread

Sonnet by Malcolm Guite used in this morning's service:

We thought that everything was lost and gone,

Disaster on disaster overtook us

The night we left our Jesus all alone

And we were scattered, and our faith forsook us.

But oh that foul Friday proved far worse,

For we had hoped that he had been the one,

Till crucifixion proved he was a curse,

And on the cross our hopes were all undone.

Oh foolish foolish heart why do you grieve?

Here is good news and comfort to your soul:

Open your mind to scripture and believe

He bore the curse for you to make you whole

The living God was numbered with the dead

That He might bring you Life in broken bread.

Our Relationship Begins Here

I had the honour of preaching at the Ascension Day service

When I first started to come to St Michael’s Mike and I sat in this side aisle, so each week we were looking directly at the Ascension window. It was probably the first thing within the fabric of the church that I ever used for prayerful contemplation. It’s so beautiful, and the colours so vivid. When the sun shines through it, it takes on a magical and mystical quality, which I’m sure is what the artist was aiming for. I never, back then, thought much about the meaning of the Ascension, but of the ethereal beauty of the window.

The Ascension itself is nothing if not magical and mystical. It’s probably one of the most if not the most supernatural elements of the gospels, and that’s understandable as Jesus moves from the earthly realm to the heavenly one. And yet it’s quite tricky to get your head around. What we see in our window and in other art is the artists earth-bound imagination trying to literally depict a holy mystery, but kind of ends up looking more like Mary Poppins, floating above the clouds.

I think part of the problem is the linear way we think about heaven and earth. Heaven is above and earth is below. God up there and mere mortals down here. Up is good and down is bad. Even further down in this linear thinking is hell, super bad. It’s no exaggeration that the first astronauts thought they might glimpse heaven as they ascended beyond the earth’s atmosphere.

Celebrating Ascension day is a good thing because it’s a time be reminded of and ponder upon several things. 

Firstly, it’s a reminder that Jesus’ story and ministry in the gospels don’t end at the cross or even with the resurrection. He spent anther 40 days preparing the disciples for what lay ahead of them, and their stories will continue way beyond this. And our relationship with Jesus is only beginning here.

Secondly, as Jesus disappears from view it’s a reminder that there is so much about God which remains a holy mystery. Yes, our God is the God who became incarnate and dwelt among us, but there is, as David Bryant writes, a built-in invisibility, incomprehensibility, and otherness about God.

Finally it gives us an opportunity to contemplate what it means to have Jesus having been fully human, living amongst us, suddenly return to his place as the eternal Christ at God’s right hand, and the good news is that the last thing it makes Jesus is absent from us.

To understand this we need to stop thinking of heaven as a physical place up there. Heaven is God’s realm and exists alongside us. When Jesus was earthbound as a human man it revealed to us so much of what God and God’s realm are like, but during that time he was subject to the rules of time and space which God has built into creation. He lived amongst us but was limited to being present to such a small number of people.

In ascending, David Bryant continues, Jesus is no longer time-bound, culturally limited, and lumbered with the ethics and thought-forms of his day. He has taken on cosmic significance, and become universal, transcendent, and beyond time.

It’s by ascending that Jesus becomes accessible to each and every one of us. Far from being absent, the Jesus who has lived amongst us now sits and intercedes for us in God’s realm. The Jesus who has lived our lives, knows our joys and our sorrows takes all those joys and sorrows back to our Father and creator.

If we think of the readings we have at Michaelmas we have Jacob’s dream – the ladder between heaven and earth, then we have the Gospel where Jesus states he is now that ladder, the link between the earthly realm and the Heavenly realm.

In the ascension we have this revealed to us in an incredibly  dramatic and poetic way. It’s not just Jesus waving goodbye, it’s his anointing and his coronation, as he takes his place in the heavenly realm as King, High Priest, and Intercessor.

Easter Day

God of little buds just now wearing green sleeves,
God of lilac limbs all full with signs of flowering,
God of fields plowed and black with turned-over earth,
God of screeching baby bird mouths widely awaiting food,

God of openness, of life and of resurrection,
Come into this Easter season and bless me.
Look around the tight, dead spaces of my heart
That still refuse to give you an entrance.

Bring your gentle but firm love.
Begin to lift the layers of resistance
That hang on tightly deep inside of me.

Open, one by one, those places in my life
Where I refuse to be overcome by surprise.
Open, one by one, those parts of my heart
Where I fight the entrance of real growth.
Open, one by one, those aspects of my spirit
Where my security struggles with the truth.

Keep me open to the different and the strange;
Help me to accept the unusual and also the ordinary;
Never allow me to tread on others' dreams
By shutting them out, closing them up,
By turning them off or pushing them away.

God of the Resurrection, God of the living,
Untomb and uncover all that needs to live in me.
Take me to people, events, and situations
And stretch me into much greater openness.

Open me.  Open me.  Open me.
For it is only then that i will grow and change.
For it is only then that I will be transformed.
For it is only then that i will know how it is
To be in the moment of rising from the dead.

(taken from may i have this dance; An Invitation to Faithful Prayer Throughout the Year by Joyce Rupp)

A suggestion for your prayer and meditation:

REJOICE, for Christ is RISEN!!!

Pastor Patty Fox 40 Days with 40 Christian Mystics

I hope that something within me has grown and changed and been transformed during these 40 days. My hope was to work on my spirituality and develop my prayer life. It's certainly given me a desire to delve deeper into mysticism, which I find resonates deeply with me.
I hope those of you who have read my posts have found some value in them and I thank Pastor Patty for originally taking this journey and blogging it so I could retread her path. 
As the prayers and meditations of the Northumbria Community have also been incredibly important over the last 6 weeks I leave you with their Morning Prayer blessing:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you,
wherever He may send you.
May He guide you through the wilderness,
protect you through the storm.
May He bring you home rejoicing
at the wonders He has shown you.
May He bring you home rejoicing
once again into our doors.

Act 26 - Bake on

Today I was absolutely gutted to not get my bake-on on. All day I had planned to make brownies but it never happened, and then I ran out of time to pop to the shop. What my disappointment helped me do was focus upon how difficult it will be to do 40 Acts when I go to Easter School from the 19th up until Easter Sunday. So I'm planning an Easter school generosity kit- cards, treats, booze, pens...whatever small thing I can think of to spread generosity. We're in a tricky place course-wise; weariness has set in. We have the weight of responsibility and accountability knowing we'll be ordained in 3 months, yet still have assignments and tutorials to complete. Then there's the practical stuff such as getting vestments and organising the appropriate paperwork. TLC is required, so Easter School generosity here I come.

Share the Easter Story

Why share the Easter story? Why is it still relevant? There's all sorts of clever people out there that could give all manner of clever and thoughtful answers to this question but for me the answer is simply hope.
I spend most of my time with people struggling to simply get through each day and cope with whatever life has to throw at them. How wonderful then to know that no matter who we are, what we may have done, where we were born and what we do or do not have we have true equality in Jesus.
Thank you for reading my blogs again this Lent, as always I intend to keep blogging but we'll see how that goes! I wish you all a joyous Easter- alleluia!!

Share the Easter story

So LLLL has come to an end for another year, and that means one very important thing- Christ is risen! Alleluia!!
It also means I should think about how the experience has changed me spiritually. If change hasn't occurred and I just go back to life as usual there was little point in undertaking it.
So- have I "been the change I want to see"? Yes and no. Thinking about others more brings me out of my little bubble. It makes me more aware of my friends, my community and my world. LLLL helps me to confront things I wouldn't usually but also gives me ways of trying to improve my relationship with God- time for stillness and reflection. Yet there's always more I could have done, tasks that remain unfulfilled and things I could have done better. Rather than dwell on that I hope to try and keep thinking of others- to be a servant rather than a consumer.
The most important aspect of LLLL this year has been community- I wasn't on my own. With the group of us from St Michael's church, plus some of the school children choosing tasks to complete, how have we as a whole affected our little community? I don't know, but any change for the better- even if it's just one person- is a change for good and a change for God.
So I finish LLLL by sharing the Easter story with my family, praying that raising my children in faith will be something that moulds their lives and means they will grow to become people who don't live to take and consume but to give and to serve.

HAPPY EASTER EVERYONE!!!!!!

Think about the Good Friday story

We didn't make an Easter garden today as the task suggested, but we did immerse ourselves in the Good Friday story.
Each Good Friday at St Michael's we have a children's service which in some way tells the Easter story, followed by a mountain of hot cross buns. For many years this was a simple passion play, using the children to act out the story. Then for a couple of years we had a service where the cross was central- we would pin our 'hurts' to a large cross and later in the service all the hurts would be covered up with a flower to symbolise Jesus healing us.
The last two years we've done 'Experience Easter' with stations all around the church representing different parts of Holy Week.
This year we decided it was time for a change and decided to go for a simple telling of the story. I wanted to find a way of getting the children to use their imaginations and put themselves in the story.
Through the Barnabas in Churches website I came across the Footsteps to The Feast material by Martyn Payne. This walks the children through each day of Holy Week, uses a chant to link between each day and has an action using our hands for each day. We built the service around this, but added a few of our own touches- the main one being getting everyone to think about something that made them sad, write it down and place it on the altar to hand their sadness over to God.
What I wasn't prepared for was the strong emotions the service stirred up. When I looked out and saw people in tears I at first thought I'd made a terrible error in judgement- yet there should be sadness on Good Friday. Without Good Friday there can be no resurrection, no celebration, no Easter and no 'Promised day' as Footsteps to the Feast calls it. Then I began to get feedback. The service had touched people, the strong emotions they had experienced were cathartic and healing. We had achieved our aim of immersing people in the story.
I think we spend a lot of our lives trying to avoid confronting sadness, death and mortality but us Christians have an entire belief system built around one man's death, but more importantly it's also built upon his resurrection. Death conquered holds no fear.

Smile More

Today was all about giving away lots of smiles, which I think I did- a few cackles too! The staff in the Co-op gave me a funny look, and Vicky was suspicious when she walked into church this morning to find me cackling away with Mavis. 
Most importantly I've felt like smiling. I feel ridiculously joyous at the moment! Maybe it's that Spring is finally in Flixton,  or the prospect of school holidays and time off work. It might be because it's Easter next week, always my favourite time of year.
Whatever the reason I'm just enjoying it, and hoping other people are too!