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  • On Mothering Sunday...

    Today I have a germ of an idea in my brain for a reflection or poem or somesuch around the idea of motherhood but all attempts to catch it and write it down are failing.  So, instead here is a kind of a list of people to be remembered today and prayer for... not necessarily in any order, except the one in which they popped into my brain.

     

    I am thinking of you,

    Mothers that are,

    Mothers that were,

    Mothers that will be,

     

    Mothers that will never be

    Mothers that never were

    Mothers that are not yet...

     

    Thinking of you and praying, somehow, for you...

     

    The new mother exhausted from labour whose newborn will not suckle

    The elderly mother whose age-eroded mind can no longer recognise her own child

    The frazzled mother whose children seem out of control

    The mother who now nurses her own mother

    The mother who longs to linger but is lured by death to eternity

    The unexpected mother whose swelling belly bears witness to unplanned activity

    The shamed mother, whose rapist's feature stare at her from infancy's innocence

    The step mother trying, perhaps too hard, to get it right

    The adoptive mother, finally holding the longed for child

    The mother who cannot be mother, life-saving drugs having destroyed her fertility

    The longs-to-be mother whose body has let her down yet again

    The mother who cares for her children's children, her child having died

    The mother who sits alone, rejected, neglected, unloved

    The mother who clings to bitterness and refuses to ne reconciled

    The mother who feels she has failed

    The mother who dances for joy at her children's achievements

    The mother who lets go the apron strings, and delights to see her children grown

    The mother who sacrificed her career to fulfil her calling as mother

    The mother who...

     

    The mothers that were

    The mothers that are

    The mothers that will be

     

    The mothers that weren't

    The mothers that aren't

    The mothers that never will be

     

    On this Mothering Sunday,

    May the mother-love of God,

    In whom we are each conceived,

    Surround and fill you,

    Wherever,

    Whoever,

    Whatever you may be. 

    Amen.

  • Fourth Sunday in Lent

    A gaudete Sunday, allegedly.

    Mothering Sunday, for part of history anyway.

    Mothers' Day, since the greetng card industry took it over.

    So, a rare old mix of stuff to hold in mind when reading todays's passages:

    Numbers 21:4-9
    Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22
    Ephesians 2:1-10
    John 3:14-21

    To be honest, whilst they are full of good stuff, they don't exactly make my heart sing!  They are not easy passages, not comfortable, not even the lovely John 3 stuff, because it links bck to the Numbers story which is all rather strange.  People grumble and God sends snakes to bite them... and they die.  That's cheery - not.

    This week I heard of a book recently published about hell, that was being used as some kind of evangelism tool, I think the idea was that it would paint such a graphic and awful image of what lay ahead of the unrepentant sinner that they would be frightened into the Kingdom.  Oh dear.  Well intentioned I guess, but not consistent with the idea of a God who is love, who, at Calvary draws into God's very self all that is death-dealing and sinful.  Reading these little passages reminds us that the Bible says precious little about hell, and that the consequence of sin is not being burned for eternity or endless consumed by maggots (each based on unfortunate readings of extraneous verses), no it is death.  As the simplest statement says 'the wages of sin is death but the gift of God is eternal life".  In the Numbers story, the people looked at the bronze serpent on the pole and lived.   In the John 3 account of Nicodemus and Jesus, the same comparison is made... salvation equates to everlasting life.  it's opposite is, then, presumably, everlasting death.

    This morning I am preaching on atonement theology - which is every bit as jolly as this stuff the lectionary offers!  I am employing three images of Jesus as Prophet, Priest and King and wondering just how each of these gives a glimpse onto some aspects of atonement.  I will not be setting up models as 'right' or 'wrong' since actually they can all be defended and knocked down by judicious use of scripture, instead I will be looking for the good, the truth, to which each one points.


    You sent snakes, God?

    Snakes to bite the people who grumbled?

    That sounds a bit harsh...

    And not just little grass snakes

    Poisonous snakes whose venom brought death

    Can't say I really understand that

     

    You were crucified, Lord

    Nailed to a cross by people who despised you:

    That's more than a bit harsh...

    And drew into yourself

    The poison, the venom that brought death...

    I can't begin to comprehend that...

     

    Death-defeating God

    Who in Christ has absorbed all hurt

    Sorrow

    Sin

    Sickness

    Dis-ease

    Death

    I don't need to understand

    I need to believe

    And -

    As best I am able -

    I do.

  • Happy St Patrick's Day

    To all my Irish readers. (probably all one of you!)

    And happy birthday sweet sixteen to A.

  • Why Rowan Williams is Brilliant!

    As the announcement is made that Rowan Williams is leaving his archbishopric for a return to academia, many are quick to pass judgement on his term of office and, worse in my view, on him as a person.  This little story, which has been around a few years now, once more landed in my in-box yesterday, and reminds me just why I admire this man (with the voice of golden syrup) so much...

    A child had asked her father the ultimate question - who invented God.  It seems a letter was sent to various religious bigwigs, and the archbish replied thus:  

    Dear Lulu,

    Your dad has sent on your letter and asked if I have any answers. It’s a difficult one! But I think God might reply a bit like this –

    ‘Dear Lulu – Nobody invented me – but lots of people discovered me and were quite surprised. They discovered me when they looked round at the world and thought it was really beautiful or really mysterious and wondered where it came from. They discovered me when they were very very quiet on their own and felt a sort of peace and love they hadn’t expected.

    Then they invented ideas about me – some of them sensible and some of them not very sensible. From time to time I sent them some hints – specially in the life of Jesus – to help them get closer to what I’m really like.

    But there was nothing and nobody around before me to invent me. Rather like somebody who writes a story in a book, I started making up the story of the world and eventually invented human beings like you who could ask me awkward questions!’

    And then he’d send you lots of love and sign off.

    I know he doesn’t usually write letters, so I have to do the best I can on his behalf. Lots of love from me too.

    +Archbishop Rowan

  • Lent Reflections (25)

    Today's readings grant us glimpses into the lives of two older men, Aaron and Nicodemus.  Each of them steeped in religious knowledge and entrusted with God's work.  Each of them flawed.

    Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22
    Numbers 20:22-29
    John 3:1-13

    It is the Aaron story which drew my attention today.

    The Aaron story recounts the last part of his story, he and Moses go to Mount Hor, along with Aaron's son.  There, the elderly Aaron is divested of his priestly garments, which are transferred to his son, and then he dies.  The people undertake a thirty day season of mourning - this is a significant death in their community.

    There is one verse that stands out, verse 24 says:

    Let Aaron be gathered to his people. For he shall not enter the land that I have given to the Israelites, because you rebelled against my command at the waters of Meribah.

    Aaron is not permitted to enter the Land of Promise (neither, is Moses, but that's a separate story), the human 'happy ending' is denied him.

    Why?

    The reason is the sin of the community - you rebelled, the people rebelled - not personal culpability.  He had not brought this on himself, rather this is the consequence of corporate attitudes and actions.

    So what's next for Aaron?

    Hell?  No.  The ancients had no such concept, Sheol was not a place of punishment, but a kind of shady underworld where vague spirits existed.  No.  Aaron is gathered to his people - to those who went before him, his blood ancestors, his community forebears.

    I suppose the thing that strikes me most is the implication of the sins of the community for the one person.  It is a small jump from here to some sort of vicarious atonement view, but I'm not convinced it's one that is justified.  More, there is a reminder of the implications of my action (or inaction) as part of a community on the here-and-now experiences of others.  Would that these were 'red and blue' or 'black and white' divisions; would that it were easy to see what is sin and what is not; would that I even glimpsed (mentally anyway) the Land of Promise, humanly speaking, towards which the journey is headed.

    The stories of Moses and Aaron have long served to remind me that I may not see my dreams fulfilled, even if (miraculously) they align perfectly with God's will.  But today, I almost feel a sense of relief and release... it is not all down to me whether I do or not!  Whilst I am obviously responsible for my own choices, those made by others may irrevocably impact my experiences... for good or for ill.

    But, come what may, God gathers in the tired, old, flawed servant, and God hands on the mantle, the role, to a new generation.

     

    God of Aaron

    You chose this man for service

    Knowing the limits of his ability

    And the likelihood that he would fail

    You chose him,

    And you did not reject him

    Though he failed

    And was caught up in the failures of others

     

    God of [my name]

    You have chosen me for service

    Knowing the limits of my ability

    And the inevitability that I will fail

    You chose me

    And you do not reject

    Though I fail

    And am complicit in the failures of others

     

    God of Nicodemus

    God of all who come by night

    Longing for knowledge

    Seeking for truth

    Open our minds

    Open our hearts

    Breath new life into our being

    That we all may live always for you

    And, when life is past,

    Be gathered by you

    To eternal rest

     

    Amen