A Skinny Fairtrade Latte in the Food Court of Life - Page 451
-
A Different Kind of Wedding Sermon...
-
Fifth Wednesday in Lent - A Poem
Last Sunday's gospel was John 11 - here's the poem we used to help us reflect on it
Lazarus
By Dan Doyle
I
What is there that can
diminish the sorrow of loss
when one whom we’ve loved dies?
Sorrow, oh sorrow deep!
Our brother, Lazarus is dead!
Emptiness has entered the house.
There is only the sound of wailing.
The rooms are redolent
with frankincense and myrrh.
We pray the Kaddish,
make the preparations for the meal
that will be served to those
who come to help us bury him.
“If only his friend had been here,
He would not have died,”
We say to one another.
If only…If only…
Is our desperate prayer.II
“Rabbi, If you had been here
my brother would not have died.”“Martha, he will rise again.”
“Yes, I know this, Rabbi.
At the Resurrection.”“I am the one who raises the dead.
Do you believe me, Martha?”“Yes, Master. Oh, yes, I believe.
I know you and with all my heart
I believe in you.”Then, Jesus wept.
III
The crowd gathered before the tomb
desperate with terrible grief and loss.
Then they heard Martha and Mary’s friend,
the one they called, Jesus,
ordering some of the men to remove
the heavy stone that had been placed
at the entrance to the sepulcher some days ago.
Confused and wary they rolled it back.
The dark heart of the death-ditch
was then revealed to us all.
Some of us fell back for fear of the stench
we thought would emanate from the grave,
but a fresh breeze wafted out instead.
A breathless silence fell over us.
Then, with a voice full of authority,
Jesus spoke, and everything came alive
around us…“Lazarus, come out!”
As if one, we sucked in a surprised breath.
There, standing in the cave’s dark maw,
was the grave-wrapped Lazarus
strait, tall, his face still covered in cloth.“Remove his bindings. Set him free.”
A young man stepped forward awkwardly
and nervously took the wrappings away
then stumbled back and we all could see…The look in Lazarus’ eyes
wide with wonder,
struck all of us dumb.
There he was!
LIfe breathing in him,
The spirit-spark in his eyes.
We rushed to him,
our faces streaming tears.In the days that followed
we talked excitedly about this miracle
that we had all been witness to.
And, still, many could not believe
in their weary and frightened hearts
that this son of an old carpenter from Nazareth,
this wandering rabbi, Jesus,
might be the one we have been waiting for
since the time of Moses and the prophets.
But some of us knew that this Jesus,
who had come so gently,
yet so powerfully among us,
was, indeed, the Messiah of God
and we began to tell everyone we met
what we had seen him do for Lazarus, our friend.Lazarus lived on for many years
and never tired of telling the story.
in hushed and awe-filled tones.
And we never tired of listening.
Lazarus was a man of gentle knowledge,
of abiding faith, and of quiet strength.
He told us over and over again
that we were loved by one
who knows our hearts, and who
despises not our petitions,
and that we would never be alone.
We began going to the synagogue differently.
We listened to the words the Rabbi read
from the ancient prophets more closely
and we were moved in our hearts and minds.At long last, Lazarus died
and we wept for sorrow again.
But we knew in our depths
that he was not dead,
that the Resurrection
promised by the prophets is real,
that death no longer holds sway
over our simple lives,
and that we will see each other again
in the world to come. Amen
From http://jesus-loves-you.org/a-moving-poem-lazarus-jn-111-53/#vLv6V8OX7TzJoDxw.99
-
Palm Sunday - Another Approach
Pure dead brilliant! Weeping Angels meets Glasgow meets the Gospel...
-
Shhhhh.....
Four weeks of experimenting with use of prolonged silence in worship are now over. I am really proud of how people stuck at it, even those who found it difficult or uncomfortable or unnatural. I know, from the feedback I've had that many found it liberating, energising and encouraging. So I have some ideas of how we might take that forward in the future.
We also had a nearly silent communion - simply a telling of the story with bread and wine shared in silence at the appropriate points. It wasn't entirely successful, but people gave it go, and for that I am very grateful
Next Sunday will be a stark contrast - lots of action, lots of singing (well know stuff I hope, after the one this week I thought everyone in the whole wide world knew was unknown to all except one other person and me!!) and hopefully quite a lot of colour.
I love my church, and I love the willingness to try new things, just so long as it's not too much, too soon.... which is fair enough.
-
It's Been Good
The last two weeks have been very busy - lots and lots of travel, conference type things, meetings, presentations and stuff; especially stuff. And it's been good.
Last week was the BUS NSM event which provided some valuable revision on conflict resolution techniques, tips and tricks on healthy decision making, and of which the closing communion service was very precious.
Monday this week was a day spent with the OBM doing quasi-monastic kind of prayer and support group and accountability group type stuff, and it was good.
Tuesday was spent with the CBM listening to ideas about one way in which ministers can be supported and encouraged as they continue to grow and develop through demanding ministries in ways that are healthy. And it was very helpful to listen.
Last evening and this morning I spent time with the BUS BoM Task Group reflecting with BUGB's equivalent Team Leader on the work we've done on CMD up here. And it was all good, helping things to drop into place in my addled brain.
Perhaps it was the Monday and Tuesday meetings that were the catalyst in a process I've been living with and through for a while now. It's been hard, as a self-motivated, workaholic, creative, mission-minded minister comig to terms with the long term side effects of life-saving treatment that has left me with, among other things, poor(er) concentration, blurred vision, joint pain, lethargy etc. As time has passed I have become more and more aware of needing and wanting to restore more order and structure to my working life, to dig fresh wells for my spirtuality (or at least to clear out the debris from the old ones).
The last two weeks have really helped with that. But it was a remarks on Monday and Tuesday from a woman minister that crystalised things. In our trial cell conversation she spoke of her own discovery that how you are is OK, there is permission to be tired or dry or whatever, and that naming it is healthy. In a chat on the Tuesday she to me, "it's really great that you feel you're starting to wake up."
Perhaps the last couple of years have been a bit dormant, and perhaps I have been reluctant to admit to myself the toll of all I've been through. In the last few days I have spoken aloud quite a few times "but I can't do that any more" and it has been quite liberating... I can't work stupid hours, I can't concentrate for hours and hours, I can't read at high speed, I can't do things that make my arms or feet or back hurt (or hurt a lot anyway), I can't read in poor light... but I can be me and I can be refreshed and re-invigorated, and news ways of doing and being that are emerging that will, I hope and pray, enhance my ministry here at The Gathering Place.