Probably, for me, Holy Saturday is the most important day of the Easter Triduum... Why, you cry, surely Good Friday or Easter Sunday... but no, it has to be the Saturday which, in most Protestant traditions, is empty... nothing happens, and we are left at something of a loss as to what we should do.  And that, surely is the point... Friday is the death of hope and there is no way of knowing what will happen next... ah but, you say, we know the ending, we do it every year... but we don't... we cannot know what tomorrow will bring and it may bring nothing at all... That's the point... as my Low Sunday service will remind us, so I have to refrain from posting my 'punch line' too soon... which is fine, because I am good at waiting, good at delayed gratification.

Yesterday, scaffolding was erected next door at around 3p.m., the time we traditionally have Jesus die - which felt so inappropriate it was utterly appropriate. Life goes on, people are busy with other things, the execution of a 'criminal', especially two thousand years ago, isn't newsworthy.

Today the sky is grey, rain is possible, and it's really cold. I have excused myself from the Churches Together event on the basis that this is my official rest day, and also because there seems to be no desire within it to embrace the ache, the emptiness, the questions, the unknowing... I would gladly have hosted a space to explore such feelings, which are the real lived experience of so many people, but it's not to be.  I do hope and pray that it's a good experience for all who take part, but it's not for me.

There is a well-known tale that a child, when asked what Jesus was doing on Holy Saturday, said that he was searching for his friend Judas.  Like so many, I have always had a soft spot for Judas, feeling he got a rough deal, and hoping that he, too, found redemption.  But that's what the 'harrowing of hell' is, isn't it?  Not that Jesus experienced something of what 'eternal conscious torment' is (Medieval twaddle) but that he overturned whatever hell might be, liberating all lost souls - including his dear friend Judas.

Part of today is spent on writing tomorrow's reflections - that's a necessity! - but I learned early in ministry that to write Sunday before Friday, and in ignorance of Saturday, for me at least, doesn't work.  There can be no resurrection without death, and no wonder without the waiting.

Many of my friends who work in colleges or translocal ministry comment on how they miss preparing for major festivals - and I get that.  It makes bi-vocational ministry extra work, as the peaks and troughs never align, but I am privileged and blessed to get to do these services.

So, I savour the greyness, the unknowing, and the life as usual, so that I, too, am open to the possibility of surprise...

Seven sayings from the cross... I adapted a reflection that emerged from the Hospice Chaplaincy Course I did more that twenty years ago (how is that even possible?).

A quiet and thoughtful service attended by around 20 people who wanted to experience something of the sorrow of the passion, and not race ahead to Sunday even before Jesus has died.

Afterwards we had hot cross buns and tea... and I am left wondering why it is that hot cross buns taste so much better on Good Friday than any other day of the year!

Following my own custom and practice, I now begin to work on the reflections for Sunday, without skipping past Saturday...

Fourteen of us gathered to share in a reflective service of Communion and Tenebrae for Maundy Thursday.  Adapting a script from around a decade ago for a new context... the readers did incredibly well and the mood was suitably reflective.  The original can be found here should you wish to purchase a useful little book.

One advantage of using pittas was that when I got home remarkably hungry, I was able to quickly rustle up a delicious halloumi and salad 'pocket'.

I always wonder, when we clear up, who cleaned up after Jesus and the disciples left for Gethsemane?  Maybe this was the day that Martha came into her own?

Maundy Thursday is a day when I choose to remember two very different men, each of whom I got to know when I was in Glasgow.

The first, KS, was a retired Baptist minister, and someone who was hugely supportive of my ministry at The Gathering Place, where he was also one of my predecessors.  He loved the poetry of T S Elliott, and a habit of quoting from 'Little Gidding' (which in turn draws on Julian of Norwich) 'All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well'.  Early in my ministry, K suffered a major stroke on Maundy Thursday, which robbed him of most speech and almost all mobility, whilst leaving his intellect as sharp as ever.  I visited him in hospital and later in a hospice, where his final days were spent.  A Rawdon man (yay!), a scholar, a man with clay feet, an encourager... I am blessed to recall him.

The second was KF, another man of fierce intellect, with interests as diverse as astronomy, poetry, rambling and photography.  A man of strong opinions, yet able to argue both sides of almost any topic.  In 2021, I was invited to nominate potential recipients for Maundy Money, and was thrilled when K, along with I and M, were awarded this honour.  On Maundy Thursday 2022, they received their from the then Prince of Wales, standing in for the Queen, whose health was becoming increasingly frail.  Sadly, K died on Maundy Thursday 2023.  Always supportive of my ministry, along with his wife, he was another good man, who I am privileged to have known.

So, as I join tonight with folk from Railway Town for a communion and Tenebrae, I will pause, if only fleetingly, to recall K and K.. may they rest in peace and rise in glory.   

This church may be small in numbers, but it makes up for that in courage and tenacity!

On Friday we hosted the LAMPS Collective performance of 'The Passion' - I think around 60-70 people were in the audience, some having travelled quite a distance to be there.  it was a wonderful evening, and so encouraging that most people stayed on for refreshments and to chat with the cast.  A cast member told me that one audience member had felt moved to rededicate themselves to following Jesus; many people spoke of how powerful and moving it had been.  A great evening, and a true blessing.

On Sunday we had our first hour long 'Messy J-Club' for children in parallel our 'Readings and Hymns' choral service for adults.  The former was a creative journey through Holy Week with games, crafts, puzzles and stories; each child took home a bag brim full of the things they had made and shared.  The latter was a 'lessons and carols' style journey through Luke's Holy Week, with a mix of choral and congregational hymns and songs.  Both were well received, and each was encouraging for this little church.  A quick count up on Sunday suggests there were about 35-40 adults present, as well as six or seven children.

A brief pause until Thursday evening, when it's Communion & Tennebrae.  A Good Friday Reflection on the Seven sayings from the Cross will follow.  And then Easter Celebration on Sunday!

Photo is from Friday - I loved the purple cast from the performers' lighting rig creating a shadow of the cross, and a hint of what lies ahead...

Whatever Holy Week look like for you, may it be blessed.