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A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life - Page 449

  • Good Friday

    This morning has dawned with clear blue skies, bird song and the steady rumble of cars carrying peopleto who knows here.  Soon the shops and museums, cafes and cinemas will open their doors to welcome the holiday hoardes.  Roads will fill up as the sunny day lures those who can to head coastwards or hillwards.

    Meanwhile, in churches and chapels, and even on the steps of prominent buildings some poeple will choose to partake in bizarre rituals... anything from making nests from chocolate coated shredded wheat, to fabricating tombs from plasticene or a mini garden in foil baking trays... anything from walking stations of the cross to re-enacting the crucifixion in a city square... anything from Stainer to Bach to Kendrick to Townend... anything from cross veneration to prostration to procession.... anything and everything absurd and authentic in an attempt to recognise and remember the absurdity of a God who can die, an itinerant preacher executed after a kangaroo court...

    Then, once we are done, when we should feel bereft but actually, for the most part, don't... we too go shopping, watch TV, get ready for tomorrow... and in my case drive out of the city for a wedding rehearsal... life goes on as it ever did, just as was the case in Jerusalem two thousand years ago.

     

    There is a green hill, far away,

    Without a city wall,

    Where the dear Lord was crucified,

    Who died to save us all.

     

    The words of Isaac Watts, amended, emended, loved by many, recalling or evoking school assemblies and the smell of disinfectant in draughty corridors or polished wooden floors... they really only work on Good Friday, I think

     

    He died that we might be forgiven

    He died to make us good

    That we might go at last to heaven

    Saved by his preicous blood

     

    Oh dearly, dearly has he loved

    And we should love him too -

    And trust in his redeeming love

    And try his works to do

     

    Try - not necessarily succeed, but try, do our best... will we?

     

    Off soon to share in our Good Friday children and family vigil - always moving and meaningful.  I hope whatever your Good Friday involves it includes moments of wonder, space to reflect and time just to be

  • Maundy Thursday thoughts...

    I posted this on social media then decided it might work here too!

    Thursday of Holy Week aka Maundy Thursday aka Holy Thursday

    Today a cathedral full of perfectly scrubbed up, repsectable pensioners will be handed soft purses of shiny coins by an earnest, elderly monarch. It's an odd tradition that has emerged and changed from its inception when the then king handed out sums of real value to grubby peasants - the nosegay being the last surviving reminder of the stench that must once have filled the air.

    In other cathedrals, Roman and Anglican priests will be handed out silver boxes, blessed by the bishop and containing the holy chrism - oil for anointing those who are sick or dying or undertaking special service.

    It's come a long way from a few blokes meeting in a borrowed room and their recongised leader stripping off his clothes, wrapping a towel round his waist and washing the day's dust from their feet - something the host would usually get a servant to do. Somewhere all the pomp and circumstance, ritual and repetition has obscured the message.

    Tonight we will share a simple communion service using a new Iona liturgy "Deniers, Doubters, Betrayers All" and I hope that somewhere in the midst of all of that we will hear afresh and understand a little better the mandatum, the mandate, the command "as I have done for you, so you must do for others"

    I wonder who I can serve today?
    And I wonder who I will betray, who I will deny and what I will doubt?

  • Thursday of Holy Week (Maundy or Holy Thursday)

    I learned something new yesterday - that the Wednesday of Holy Week is called, in some traditions 'Spy Wednesday' and focusses on Judas' betrayal of Jesus.  Last night's service used a poem I'd not come across before, and which I found thoughtful, though maybe others did not.  Authorship is debated, so I cannot properly credit it:

    Judas, if true love never ceases
    how could you, my friend, have come to this:
    To sell me for thirty silver pieces
    and betray me with a kiss?
    Judas, remember what I taught you,
    do not despair while hanging on the rope.
    It's because you sinned that I have sought you;
    I came to give you hope.
    Judas, let us pray and hang together,
    you on your halter, I upon my hill.
    Dear friend, even if you loved me never,
    you know I love you still.

     

    Whilst searching 'google' for the above, I also found this one by Ruth Etchells:

     


    In Hell there grew a Judas Tree
    Where Judas hanged and died
    Because he could not bear to see
    His master crucified
    Our Lord descended into Hell
    And found his Judas there
    For ever haning on the tree
    Grown from his own despair
    So Jesus cut his Judas down
    And took him in his arms
    "It was for this I came" he said
    "And not to do you harm
    My Father gave me twelve good men
    And all of them I kept
    Though one betrayed and one denied
    Some fled and others slept
    In three days' time I must return
    To make the others glad
    But first I had to come to Hell
    And share the death you had
    My tree will grow in place of yours
    Its roots lie here as well
    There is no final victory
    Without this soul from Hell"
    So when we all condemned him
    As of every traitor worst
    Remember that of all his men
    Our Lord forgave him first

    D. Ruth Etchells

    It's no secret that I have a soft spot for Judas, a 'there but for the grace of God...' sense about it all.  i think in these poems I find hints of allies in this 'heresy'!

  • Wednesday of Holy Week

    Last Sunday as we shared in stories of Holy Week from Palm Sunday to Gethsemane, we used this paraphrase of the story of Jesus being anointed at Bethany by a woman who may or may not have been called Mary, and who may or may not have had a colourful past and a chaotic present:

     

    Jesus and his friends went to a house in Bethany where they had been invited for a meal.  Whilst they were waiting for the food to be brought to them a woman tiptoed into the room carrying a huge jar of precious perfume.  She came to where Jesus was, opened up her jar of perfume and poured some onto his head and his feet.

    As the lovely smell filled the room, people turned to see what was happening, and one of Jesus’ friends, called Judas Iscariot said in a loud voice, “What a waste!  That could have been sold for a lot of money… the money could have been given to help poor people.”

    The woman looked sad, but Jesus smiled at her kindly. “Leave her alone,” he said, “she has done something very lovely for me.  There will always be poor people for you to help, but I won’t always be here.  People will forget lots of things but from now on, when people share my stories, they will be told about this woman and what she has done for me.”

    Judas was so cross and disappointed, that he slipped off to the religious rulers and agreed to help them trap Jesus.

     

    I wonder who are the people we perceive as 'sinful' - would we allow oursleves to accept their love lavished upon us, graciously and gratefully receiving what they offer?

    I wonder who we could do something lovely for today - and who we could allow to bless us with unexpected generosity?

    I wonder when and how, like Jesus, we become so cross and disappointed that we, too, walk away from Jesus?

    I wonder whose stories we remember and tell, and why or why not?

  • Hot off the (electronic) Press!

    BUGB have a new e-book Bible study out - called 'The Lydia Question' which explores aspects of women and (ordained) ministry.

    Five and a bit years ago I was asked to share my 'story' (I suspect because it was suitably grotty to make a point rather well).  I'm more a 'facts' than 'feelings' person so it was initially ghost written, very skilfully, from an outline I supplied.  Five years and several iterations later it is finally published!

    You can find it here - and if really bored find my story on page 44

    Thank you BUGB for this massive project, and for the privilege of sharing something of my story

    I hope it's a helpful resource for Baptists who remain troubled about this topic.