Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you (NRSV)

I wonder what Jesus means when he says these words? …

If we are to discover answers to this question, we need to look at the context.

In our Gospel reading, time seems to have stood still. The first 12 chapters of the Gospel cover the first 33 years of Jesus’ life. Then, from the beginning of Chapter 13 right through to the end of Chapter 17, we are in the Upper Room at a Passover Meal with Jesus and his disciples, his friends. This is last evening of Jesus’ time with his disciples before the Crucifixion.

We have watched Jesus washing his disciples’ feet. We have heard him talking of the Holy Spirit who will walk alongside them, live within them, help them to be witnesses to the love of God as they live their lives. We know that these actions and these words were spoken as much for us as for the disciples’ benefit.

In what Jesus says and does, he is encouraging us to share in his priorities for our lives: serving others; receiving their service to us with grace and love; witnessing to the love of God; listening to the inner voice of the Holy Spirit; and later in Chapter 17, placing a priority on working together as one, respecting each other, knowing that without our shared fellowship and witness, we are so much poorer.

And in the middle of all this, come those words of Jesus:

Father, the hour has come; glorify your Son so that the Son may glorify you.

I guess that there are two ways that we can think about those words.

First, there is the wider context of all that Jesus has been saying and doing in the Upper Room and the wider context of the whole prayer in John 17. He could be praying that God will be glorified through the lives of his friends. Jesus has commissioned them to serve him and they will, from now on, be the ones through whom God is glorified. This means that we are the ones to be God’s visible presence in the world. Our actions, good or bad speak about the Lord that we claim to follow and serve. Our choices and actions speak loudly about the God we say we serve. We are the ones who will glorify God. Or our behaviour and actions could bring shame on the God we say we serve. So, Jesus prays that God will be glorified by the choices we make and by our actions.

Secondly, and in line with the immediate context of John 17: 1-6, Jesus could be talking about something very different. …

When Jesus talks about himself being glorified and so bringing glory to God, it seems that he has in mind the days which immediately follow this prayer. He sees the events of the crucifixion and resurrection as being about glory! And particularly, the events of Good Friday. For Jesus, the glory of God will be revealed in him at the cross and in his resurrection. As Jesus is lifted-up in the eyes of everyone, so he gives glory to God.

Glory is to be found, not in power and influence, but in obedient submission to God’s will.

Jesus’ throne is the Cross. God’s glory is revealed in suffering. God is revealed most clearly at the place of suffering.“Father, use these next hours,” prays Jesus in John 17, “to glorify me and to glorify you.” And Jesus re-emphasises this as he says to God the Father, in John 17:4: “I glorified you on earth by finishing the work that you gave me to do.”

Jesus’ example to us is one which centres on the Cross. It is at the Cross, the place of suffering, that God’s redeeming work is done. The place of weakness is the place of glory! This is the place where we discover who God really is, and God’s glory is revealed.

We are safe in the love of God, in some mysterious way, because of the Cross.

And because of the Cross, we too can serve others without counting the cost. And if we suffer, we can be sure that, in Christ, God has walked the same journey that we walk. God is not surprised or shocked by our struggles, but there alongside us each step of the way.

Prayers for Sunday 24^th May 2020 from Jesuit communities in the USA.

Jesus Christ, you travelled through towns and villages “curing every disease and illness.” At your command, the sick were made well. Come to our aid now, in the midst of the global spread of the coronavirus, that we may experience your healing love.

Heal those who are sick with the virus. May they regain their strength and health through quality medical care.

Heal us from our fear, which prevents nations from working together and neighbours from helping one another.

Heal us from our pride, which can make us claim invulnerability to a disease that knows no borders.

Jesus Christ, healer of all, stay by our side in this time of uncertainty and sorrow.

Be with those who have died from the virus. May they be at rest with you in your eternal peace.

Be with the families of those who are sick or have died. As they worry and grieve, defend them from illness and despair. May they know your peace.

Be with the doctors, nurses, researchers and all medical professionals who seek to heal and help those affected and who put themselves at risk in the process. May they know your protection and peace.

Be with the leaders of all nations. Give them the foresight to act with charity and true concern for the well-being of the people they are meant to serve. Give them the wisdom to invest in long-term solutions that will help prepare for or prevent future outbreaks. May they know your peace, as they work together to achieve it on earth.

Whether we are home or abroad, surrounded by many people suffering from this illness or only a few, Jesus Christ, stay with us as we endure and mourn, persist and prepare. In place of our anxiety, give us your peace. …… Jesus Christ, heal us.          Amen.

The Ascension begs a question: … What exactly is happening as Jesus goes into heaven?

Is this the triumphant finale, the final victory parade? When at last Jesus goes home to the Father, to be paraded through the streets of heaven in victory – much like the Liverpool  football team had hoped to be driving around the streets of the city in an open-top bus at about this time. Is it the time when Jesus is welcomed back into that indescribable unity which is the Trinity of the Godhead – back home at last?

Or is it a moment of desertion. The disciples have only just received Christ back among them after his death and now cruelly he is taken from them into heaven. A renewed relationship is abruptly ended!! A commission is given and then the bombshell is dropped.

“Listen!” says Jesus, “I have a job for you to do – to be my witnesses throughout the known world.”

“Great, Lord, when do we get down to business, when do we work out the strategy, when to do you provide the corporate plan of action, when do we do our Mission Action Planning?”

“Not us. … Not me!” says Jesus, “You! …… I’m going away and you’ll never see me again this side of heaven!”

Or is this, actually, rather than desertion, the point at which followers become leaders, children become adults. Is this primarily the point where Jesus followers can no longer hide behind a leader and have to begin to make important choices themselves.

For all the participants in this story, this must have been a confusing moment. A time which carried so much emotion – parting from friends, losing a friend and leader, going home …

All sorts of mixed emotions.

In the end all of these scenarios have more than a grain of truth to them.

Christ is going home in victory. A job well done.

Christ is leaving behind a ragged group of followers who must have felt deserted. Yes, he did promise the Holy Spirit as helper and guide. But what’s a Spirit when you’ve had real flesh & blood to relate to?

And perhaps most crucially for us, Jesus is asking this ragged group to stand up for themselves. To be what he knows that they can be with the Spirit’s strength – a missionary band that will turn the world upside down within a century.

St. Teresa of Avila’s prayer sums it up well …..

Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which He looks compassion on this world. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.

As we mark the Ascension today, of course we celebrate a job well done, the earthly part of Christ’s mission over. But, most critcally, the Ascension reminds us that we are the ones that count – between now and eternity God has left his concerns, his mission in our hands. And on Ascension Day, it behoves us to commit ourselves again to serving to God – to discovering his way and walking in it, to being his hands, eyes and feet here in the places that God has put us.

My wife Jo and I studied together at St. John’s College, Nottingham when we were training to become priests in the Church of England. We both had overseas placements in the Summer of 1998. I went to Sri Lanka for 8 weeks and Jo went to South Africa. My placement was at Lanka Bible College on Christopher Road in Peradeniya, near Kandy which can be picked out on the map below in the centre of the island country. The main building of the college features in the image above! [1]

Sri Lanka, formerly Ceylon, is an island country lying in the Indian Ocean and separated from the Indian peninsula by the Palk Strait. It is located between latitudes 5°55′ and 9°51′ N and longitudes 79°41′ and 81°53′ E and has a maximum length of 268 miles (432 km) and a maximum width of 139 miles (224 km), (c) Encyclopedia Britannica, 1998.

Sri Lanka is primarily a Buddhist and Hindu country. Christians are very much in the minority – perhaps less than 5% of the population. The church is growing quite quickly, particularly in rural areas. … I want to introduce you to two of the people I met while I was staying there. … A woman called Lalani and a man called Anargith.

Anargith gave up work in the capital city, Colombo, to be a missionary in one of the driest and poorest parts of Sri Lanka. He exchanged a comfortable flat for a small grass-roofed mud house with no running water or sanitation. The nearest church was around 50 km away. He started sharing his faith with people in the villages around where he lived and, when I met him, he had a small group of people meeting in his home. In the months after I returned from Sri Lanka they began to build a church. When I last heard from Anargith, which must over 15 years ago now, none of the people in his church had yet been baptised.

Anargith explained that it would only be when they got baptised they would be marked out as converts from Buddhism. It was important that their faith was strong enough to cope with the persecution they most probably would face. They would be threatened and, if experience elsewhere in Sri Lanka was to be matched, the church building and their houses could be burnt down.

Lalani’s story is a little different. When I met her, she was Pastor of an Assemblies of God church in southern Sri Lanka. In the mid to late 1990s, her husband Lionel had a successful ministry in their village – a lot of people were becoming Christians. He received threats from local Buddhist community leaders, but he continued to work, and the church continued to grow.

A contract was taken out on his life and he was shot and killed.

Lalani had trained with her husband and after he died took over the role of Pastor to the Church in their village. When I met her she was still working in that same village – witnessing to people that she knows were involved in her husband’s death.

These are stories that have touched me personally. But throughout the world today there are many Christians suffering and dying for the faith that they hold so dear:

• Many of the Saints who fill our Anglican calendar were martyred.
• In Pakistan, Christians have regularly been accused under strict blasphemy laws and imprisoned without trial.
• Some time ago I was told an astounding fact: There were more Christians tortured and killed in the 20th century than throughout the whole of the history of the church before that.
  

  One example of persecution in the 20th century is the deaths of seven bishops in Romania. Pictured are six of those seven bishops of the Eastern-rite Romanian Catholic Church who died during a fierce anti-religious campaign waged under the communist regime in Romania. Pope Francis recognized their martyrdom and beatified them in Romania on 2nd June 2019. Clockwise: Auxiliary Bishop Vasile Aftenie of Fagaras and Alba Iulia; Bishop Ioan Balan of Lugoj, Auxiliary Bishop Tit Liviu Chinezu of Fagaras and Alba Iulia; Bishop Valeriu Traian Frentiu of Oradea Mare; Bishop Ioan Suciu, apostolic administrator of Fagaras and Alba Iulia; and Bishop Alexandru Rusu of Maramures. Not pictured is Bishop Iuliu Hossu of Gherla. (CNS photo/courtesy Romanian Catholic bishops’ conference). [2]

Since the time of the early church, when the gospel has been proclaimed persecution and suffering have been close at hand. Sacrifices have been made, both by those sharing the good news of God’s kingdom and those accepting God’s rule. And Peter’s epistle reflects that. The passage set for today is about suffering for being a Christian.

But what do stories of persecution in Sri Lanka, or words of comfort from an apostle to Christians in the early church have to do with us in our communities?

Peter wants to stress that being a Christian will not be an easy ride. We can’t take our status as children of God for granted and then sit back with our feet up. Peter warns us what to expect, so as to enable us to be prepared. He then makes it clear what we are called to do:

First, says Peter: “Do what is just and right even if there is a personal cost. … For it is better to suffer for doing what is right than what is wrong.” When you see injustice in your local community do something about it, even if it is inconvenient, even if there is a real cost to you. Be the difference that makes the difference in your community.

Secondly, says Peter: “Be a witness to what God has done in Christ.” Share the faith that is in you. “For Christ suffered for sins in order to bring you to God.” What God does in history is consistent – right from the time of Noah, God has been active saving and transforming his world. Christ’s death and resurrection is part of that plan of salvation which is brought right up to date in our own generation in our own baptism. God’s work of salvation made real for us in our own baptism. God’s work of salvation made real for other’s as we share our hope with them.

And thirdly, let’s remember that in our own country we belong to the majority, there are others who experience being in the minority in our culture. How will we behave towards them? Will we ostracise them? Or will we welcome and support them? Will we push them away? Or will we recognise that although they are different from us, although they may worship in a different way to us, they too are God’s children.

Sadly, the Church, of whatever denomination, over the centuries, has not been good at accepting difference and has justified all sorts of atrocities in the pursuit of purity of doctrine. In our generation we are just as capable of bigotry. We can so easily slip into a pattern of thought which makes the other person less valuable than we are and that makes it seem OK to ridicule and hurt those different from ourselves. Our faith as Christians calls us to love and not to hatred. It calls those of us with  the privilege of being in the majority to give space to other views, to recognise those different from ourselves and children of God and fellow human beings. Our faith calls on us to be those who create the space for good dialogue and who always see the good in our neighbours.

So let me remind you of Anargith and Lalani who testify that God is with them in the midst of persecution.

Let me remind you of Peter, who is convinced that we will not find life easy as we give ourselves to God. But who is just as convinced that we will know we are ‘saved’: that we sit in the heart of God’s will, safe and secure in God’s love. Sure too, that as we seek to serve Jesus and to live lives that honour our Lord, we are doing something worthwhile even if we suffer for doing so.

References

1. http://www.lbcs.edu.lk, accessed on 13th May 2020.
2. https://www.thetablet.co.uk/news/11622/pope-to-beatify-beatify-seven-bishop-martyrs-in-romania, accessed on 13th May 2020.

A reflection for Sunday 10^th May 2020 – The Fifth Sunday of Easter

Revd. Pat Lodge

This week’s reflection comes from my colleague in the Parish of the Good Shepherd, Ashton-under-Lyne – Revd Pat Lodge.

Oh, my goodness, what an appropriate reading for the current times that we’re living in!

This is a Gospel reading that we may well be very familiar, partly because it often used in the funeral service, and the reason for that is that it is such a comforting reading.  It reminds us that Jesus is with us on the journey of life, that he loves us and cares for us particularly when we are sad, lonely, confused and troubled, and that he prepares the way ahead for us.

Before the disciples heard Jesus speak these words to them they knew that there were dark days ahead for them.  There they were, closeted in an upper room.  It had all been going so well.  They would have been planning for a future following Jesus, and helping him in his work.  And then, suddenly, their world fell apart.  Judas betrayed Jesus to Caiaphas.  Jesus was arrested and crucified. Peter had denied even knowing Jesus three times, just as Jesus had said he would, and they had no idea what was ahead of them.  For their own safety, they had locked themselves away in fear, in sadness and in apprehension about the future.  Ring any bells?

I think that situation chimes with all of us at the moment.  Our world was chugging along quite happily.  We were making plans for the rest of the year ahead and all was well till, suddenly, this dreadful virus sweeps through our world and stops us all in our tracks. Don’t we feel that fear and apprehension for the future that the disciples felt as we keep our distance from family, friends and neighbours, closeted away as we are in our homes as much as possible?  I know I have.

And then Jesus comes to comfort them and to show them the way forward, just as he does with us.  He lets them know that he’s with them, and asks them to trust in God the Father and in himself, just as he does us.  He tells them to hang on by putting their faith in him, just as he tells us.  He assures his disciples that he will be going ahead of them to prepare the way for them, just as he does us.

Thomas, perhaps harshly nicknamed Doubting – for wasn’t he in exactly the same boat that we’re in now in wanting to know more – wants some detail about what’s going to happen in the future?  What does Jesus mean by telling them that they know the way they must go?  And where is Jesus going?  He needs to know so that he knows where to follow him.  And then we hear, as the disciples did, those words of infinite comfort, strength, support and healing, “I am the way and the truth and the life.”

No matter what we have to face in these dark and difficult days, no matter how long this uncertainty goes on for, we have Jesus’s assurance that he will be with us always, that he is there to help us on the onward journey from here, and that by following him will we have God’s promise of eternal life – and I think that’s a tremendous comfort right now.

And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year:
Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.
And he replied: Go out into the darkness
And put your hand in the Hand of God
That shall be to you better than a light
And safer than a known way.

from Desert by Minnie Louise Haskins

The Good Shepherd

Belonging is important. We want to feel that we belong. Even those of us who are introverts still want to feel that we have a place in society. And so many of us join different clubs and societies. So, we belong to things like Soroptimists, Rotary, Round Table, the Bowling Club, the Needlework Group, a Fan Club, a Football Team, we engage in other sports, and nowadays we join on-line groups – we have a Facebook page, a Twitter feed, some of us even have a blog. Even on-line, we belong!

Yet, as adults we like to believe that we a strong enough to make our own decisions, to be our own people. For some of us acknowledging that we need others, that we need to belong can be quite difficult. But we have to accept that it is true when we look at teenage culture over the past 50 years – the need to belong to the ‘in-crowd’, to wear the ‘right’ clothes, to listen to the ‘right’ music, to have the ‘right’ attitudes. All so very obvious and never more so that during the 1970s when I was a teenager. And those of us who are now in our 30s, 40s, 50s ….etc…. have to admit that when we were young we felt the possibility of rejection quite keenly. Indeed it is one of the main causes of serious teenage problems – eating disorders, drug/solvent abuse, delinquency. The need to belong often overcomes all other priorities – it can become more critical than right/wrong. And if we’re honest we’ll admit that it is true for all of us, whatever age we claim to be. The need to belong is so very important.

It’s not just peer groups/clubs/societies – we’re part of families – I’m a Farnworth – I couldn’t be anything else – I’ve habits that I recognise in my father, I’ve got the same concern for neatness and detail that my mother has. I inherit my baldness from my mother’s father. No matter how much I might have wanted to rebel against it in the past, I’m a Farnworth. I belong.

Then there’s our work. Before I went to college to train for the ministry I was a Civil Engineer, a member of the Institution of Civil Engineers, something that I’d worked hard to achieve. I was a manager in Stockport Council – with 120 staff. I had a definite place in society – I belonged. Leaving all that and going back to college was surprisingly disorientating. The way I defined myself, and the sense of place and belonging had suddenly been taken away. Who was I now? How was I going to make my mark? Would I be accepted in this new world? If you’ve changed jobs, or perhaps left work to raise children, or gone back to work after raising children you’ll perhaps know what I mean. Not the end of the world by any means – actually a really positive challenge – but still a need to establish a new identity, a new sense of belonging.

This month the Parish of the Good Shepherd, Ashton-under-Lyne celebrates its Patronal Festival on the 4^th Sunday of Easter (3rd May 2020). Each year, on the 4^th Sunday of Easter our lectionary has us reading something from the 10^th chapter of John’s Gospel, a chapter where Jesus talks of himself as the Good Shepherd.  In that chapter of John’s Gospel, Jesus talks of belonging. “You do not belong to my sheep,” he says to his adversaries in the temple. “You do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice, I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.”

There are at least three things that Jesus is saying about those who belong to him:

Firstly – “My sheep hear my voice, I know them and they follow me.” Those who belong to Jesus have been ‘called’ by him – they’ve heard his call and have answered that call. We’ve been chosen – we’ve not just muscled our way into the club, we’ve been selected to play on the team. We have been called by Jesus and we follow his call. But not only are we called, we are known – nothing is hidden from him, he knows us inside out – and even knowing all the things we like to keep hidden, he has still chosen us! …  And why are we chosen? … To follow him – to live differently, to try to be like him, his attitudes/actions – to follow him.

Secondly – ‘I give them eternal life.’ Those who belong to Jesus have been given eternal life. All equal, all loved, all given the greatest of gifts – eternal life. Life lived now in friendship with God, life which is no longer purely part of a world which passes away. We often say that it is quality not quantity which counts – but here in Jesus gift of eternal life we get both – life to be enjoyed beyond our imagining, life which continues beyond the grave, both quality and quantity!

Thirdly – ‘No one will snatch them out of my hand.’ The best news of all. Those who belong to Jesus are safe, secure. Jesus is committed to them, no matter how tentative their commitment to him. Belonging depends on his love, not our faithfulness! No matter how black things seem, no matter how rebellious we are. He has hold of us with a grip that he will not release. If we wander away he will draw us back, if we stumble he will pick us up and set us back on our feet.

Belonging to Jesus is real belonging – its for keeps. It gives us the strength we need to cope when all other certainties have gone. We are at home, we’re safe. But don’t just take my word for it, listen to Jesus:

“My sheep hear my voice, I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand.”

(John 10:27-28)

References:

1. The featured image for this article comes from the website ‘Catholic Exchange’ https://catholicexchange.com/scripture-speaks-good-shepherd, accessed on 30th April 2020.

Sunday 3rd May 2020 is the Patronal Festival for the Parish of the Good Shepherd, Ashton-under-Lyne. My colleague Revd. Ben Brady prepared our Parish’s Reflection for the 3rd May. He writes:

Jesus the Good Shepherd

How many times have you heard your name? I only have to think back to being in school and hearing it every registration time. There were also times when teachers didn’t appreciate my stellar performances in Maths, English and Science (to name just a few) – But they all blur into an innumerable mass in my memory.

However, there is one voice that I remember very clearly and even fear…”Benjamin!” My mum. She could always stop me in my tracks (still can). No matter how loud the room or how far out of sight I thought I was getting my cousin into a headlock, over it all I would hear my mum’s voice. For each of us, there are those special voices that we know, trust and immediately listen to.

The passage from John’s Gospel speaks about recognising the voice of Jesus. The calling and promptings we have daily to live by his example, knowing that he draws close to us. Our Gospel reading this week comes after Jesus healed a man of blindness and yet, despite this, the Pharisees still did not believe Jesus was the Messiah. I find it amusing that this Sunday is ‘Good Shepherd Sunday’ but the reading stops short before verse 11 where Jesus actually says ‘I am the good shepherd’. I will sneakily push the set reading forward by a verse to include Jesus as The Good Shepherd because I believe this can help us explore what John is saying to us about Jesus as The Gate.

The Gospel reading has some characters that need unpacking. There are thieves and bandits, strangers, a gate keeper, sheep and Jesus. The back drop to the story is a sheep pen. It has walls and one way in and out through a gate. We can think of ourselves as the sheep and the pantomime villains (who deserve boo’s and hisses) are the thieves and bandits – those things trying to undermine and wreak havoc in our lives. They try to climb in over the wall. They deliberately avoid the gate. The job of the gatekeeper is to protect the sheep by knowing who to let in or out. I think it is interesting to reflect on what the gatekeeper is doing in this story. We are not told what he gets out of doing his job or how much he cares about the sheep. Perhaps this character is only mentioned by Jesus to highlight the fact that Jesus is not just another gatekeeper, he is The Gate! He is the thing that the thieves and bandits can’t tackle. This is where Jesus takes it to another level. Jesus describes Himself as the physical gate that seals and holds secure the sheep within the pen. He was built to do this, his purpose is to guard and protect.

Now the sheep pen is not only used by one shepherd. We are told the shepherd enters, calls his sheep and they follow him. The pen is crowded with other sheep belonging to other shepherds, but we are told that they recognise their shepherd’s voice and ignore that of the stranger. I find it interesting that the sheep follow the shepherd. They trust him as their leader. He does not try to herd them from behind.

Jesus is both The Gate that holds us secure and The Good Shepherd that leads us. We are to follow because we recognise his voice and can feel sure in His guidance. I love this image of being led by someone we can know and trust. Even though I know that Jesus is always with me, I sometimes need to remember that He also goes ahead of me. I find it grounding to think of the future as somewhere with a familiar face ready to meet me. Jesus goes first, we follow. Jesus is not a hired hand letting people in and out who will leave at the first whiff of danger. Jesus the Good Shepherd will listen when we cry out to him. No matter how far we feel we stray or wander, He is already ahead of us and will always call us home and meet us with an embrace that spans all heights, depths, shame and fear.

Reverend Ben

Prayers for Sunday 3rd May with Psalm 23

Also provided by Ben.

Carrying on with our Shepherd theme, here is a reflective prayer using a version of Psalm 23 written by Scotty Smith from The Gospel Coalition.

1 The Lord is my shepherd; I have all that I need.
Dear Lord Jesus, you are my shepherd, my Good Shepherd. You give me everything I need and more than I want. All I need in life is you, plus what you choose to give me.

2 He lets me rest in green meadows; he leads me beside peaceful streams.
Even the most difficult places in life are like green meadows as long as you are there; and in the desert seasons of my journey and the drought like conditions of my heart, you quench my thirst with living water and give me a peace that passes all understanding.

3 He renews my strength. He guides me along right paths, bringing honour to his name.
By your grace I’ve learned to boast in my weakness, and pose and pretend less. For when I come to the end of my strength, you faithfully meet me there—granting me rest in my weariness and strength for my tired heart and body. I am so grateful that you have both marked the path for me, and that you yourself are my Way, Truth and Life. I want to honour your name much more than I want to go my way and get my way.

4 Even when I walk through the darkest valley, I will not be afraid, for you are close beside me. Your rod and your staff protect and comfort me.
Jesus, you never promised me that the journey towards the new heaven and new earth would be easy, quick, or without seasons and circumstances that are overwhelming; but you have promised never to leave or forsake me, even in the darkest valley. That’s all I really need to know—that you are close and that you love me, and that you won’t let anything happen to me outside of your perfect plan for my life. Even when you have to discipline me, the goal is my comfort and always your glory.

5 You prepare a feast for me in the presence of my enemies. You honour me by anointing my head with oil. My cup overflows with blessings.
Jesus, you are taking me to the feast of all feasts—the wedding feast of the Lamb; but long before that Day, you, yourself are my portion, banquet and feast—Bread from Heaven, my nourishment and satisfaction. Though enemies threaten, you feed me, anoint my life with your grace and Spirit, and cause my cup to spill over with blessings, for the benefit of others.

6 Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever.
Absolutely nothing will keep me out of the new heaven and new earth; and, just as certainly, nothing can possibly separate me from your goodness and unfailing love—at any time or in any place. Until the Day I long for more than any other arrives, I rest in your love and trust in your grace. Jesus, thank you for your promise to never stop pursing me.

So very Amen I pray, in your glorious and powerful name.

The featured image above  was the work of Rowan LeCompte (American, 1925–2014) and Irene Matz LeCompte (American, 1926–1970), Third Station of the Resurrection: The Walk to Emmaus (detail), 1970. Mosaic, Resurrection Chapel, National Cathedral, Washington, DC. Photo by Victoria Emily Jones. [1]

But we had hoped ……………

The BBC Radio 4 Sunday Service on 26th April was led by Revd. Prof. Jennifer Strawbridge and the Revd. Dr Steve Nolan. [2]. The theme was: “But We Had Hoped ……“

I have been reflecting on that short phrase over the past few days. I don’t think I have ever really noticed that little phrase before Sunday.

“But we had hoped …” is an expression of lament. As Professor Strawbridge explained, these are among “the most heart-breaking and realistic words in all of Scripture: … ‘But we had hoped’.”

But we had hoped. …

Everthing has changed for these two people on the road to Emmaus. As Professor Strawbridge explained in the service on Sunday, “Jesus, who they thought was their Lord, was crucified and with his death, their hope for redemption and restoration has died as well. Moreover, the tomb of this hoped-for saviour is empty, his body is gone, and while rumours are flying around that he is alive, they have seen nothing to suggest this is true and they are going home.”

These two friends have lost hope. Hope has withered and died and they are bereft, sad and confused. Going home is all they have left to do.

Professor Strawbridge went on to say that “the words, ‘but we had hoped’, linger in the air. … So much is contained in those four words which speak of a future that is now irrelevant. And pain stems, not only from the tragedy of what has happened, but the empty space of all that could have happened but won’t.”

She continues,” ‘But we had hoped’ are words that speak to each of us still. Not because we enjoy wallowing in dark and sentimental emotions, but because they are true. …

• But we hoped to celebrate Easter with our communities in person.
• But we had hoped not to get ill.
• But we had hoped to be so productive in our isolation.
• But we had hoped not to feel lonely.
• But we had hoped we could do more to help.
• But we had hoped for one final hug.

‘But we had hoped’ infuses our days and our lives in ways big and small.”

‘But we had hoped ….’ is an expression of lament which must for many, if not all of us, say something, at least, about what we feel at this time. It may become a growing and significant element of our feelings as the next month or two unfolds.

“But we had hoped ……”

What we longed for is no longer going to happen! What we longed for has already gone! We cannot get it back! What does life hold for us now? ……

Professor Strawbridge went on to say that, “with this story on the road to Emmaus, more often than not we jump over these first bits to the recognition of resurrection and the burning hearts in the disciples, without recognizing that the same hearts that are burning within them have also been broken.”

It seems to me the most important part of this story of the “Road to Emmaus” is not so much an amazing truth of resurrection breaking into the lives of Jesus’ friends but the darkest of statement of loss which is expressed by the two friends to the stranger who meets them on the road. “But we had hoped ….,” and all that we had hoped for has gone for ever. Deep, dark depression. All hope is gone.

The distance from Jerusalem to Emmaus was about 7 miles. ….

How long does it take to walk 7 miles?

I guess it depends on our age and state of health. The most able of us might walk it in under two hours, for some of us 7 miles is an impossibly long distance to walk, for most of us it will probably take us around 3 to 3.5 hours.

The darkest times for all of us, when we experience them, do last a long time. But how long? The time will vary, it will be different for each of us. Throughout these darkest times, expressing our lost hopes will be so very important. Whether in anger or grief, sorrow or sighing, throughout the darkest times are these … “But Lord, we had hoped ……….”

Jesus himself draws near to us. His Spirit lives with us and in us. But we probably cannot recognise the Lord’s presence in the middle of what we face. Walking this road, for us, will take a while. As we walk this road, we will have to take our own time. And throughout the journey, our faith will probably only be expressed in the reality of loss, “But we had hoped ……”

Our faith somehow keeps us engaging with God, even when what we say to God cannot possibly be expressed to others but it is so full of doubt, anger, hatred and lament. …

“But we had hoped ….”

“We had really hoped, Lord. We had believed in you for the future and you seem to have taken it all away and left us with nothing. How can we possibly continue to believe in you? How?” ….

Professor Strawbridge said in that broadcast, that if we fail to recognise in the story of the Emmaus Road, “that the people filled with overwhelming joy are the same ones who were filled with fear and despair.” If we do not grasp, “that throughout their fear and despair, whether those disciples recognized it or not, they were not alone.” Then, in our rush to get to the news of the resurrection, we miss the crucial reality, “that even in the place of confusion and despair, the Risen Lord walked alongside the disciples.”

We can see that Jesus’ presence with those friends on the Road to Emmaus is robust and challenging.  But the challenges come from someone who is walking with them on the road. And he continues to walk with them, whatever the length of the journey, until they reach their place of safety, their home. It is also a presence which does not impose on them. It does not, ultimately, intrude. For Jesus would have continued on the road had they not invited him into their home.

And it is in their home, in the middle of all that is normal, in the simplest of ways, as they share that evening meal together, that finally they recognise their Lord.

Jesus walks with each of us: ahead of us, behind us, but most definitely with us, into all that we fear, into the unknown daily present, into a shrouded, frightening, confusing and uncertain future.

References

1. https://artandtheology.org/2017/04/28/the-unnamed-emmaus-disciple-mary-wife-of-cleopas, accessed on 30th April 2020.
2. https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m000hmx2, available to listen to until the 25th May 2020, although the transcript should be available via the hyperlink for some time, accessed on 26th April 2020.

How has Easter left you feeling? First looking into the blackness of Good Friday – then the celebrations of Easter Sunday and the resurrection. All of which has felt so very strange in these weeks of lockdown. ……………

Children off school for so long. Trying to find things for them to do, encouraging them to learn. The lack of clarity over what the future holds, the fear that everything will be different but without any idea what that might really mean. The concern for loved ones and the fear for one’s own health. Living together with family and finding that it is not easy to stay together is a relatively small space for such a long time. Wishing that rather than irritability and lack of sleep we were on good form for those we love.

On top of all that, are the regular things that have to be sustained, work for some, volunteering for others, dealing with chronic conditions which we’ve had for a long-time before Coronavirus came along. It’s been a chaotic time. There’s been enough of a cocktail of different things to leave us all exhausted, or confused.

In our Gospel reading two people are struggling to get on with their lives amid the confusion of that first few days after the first Easter. Good Friday’s sense of despair isolation and loneliness has been turned on its head by strange rumours of resurrection. People running backwards and forwards, rumour and counter-rumour, no one sure just what to believe.

And as they walk on the road to Emmaus, weary, sad and confused,  perhaps we can feel some sympathy for them. As they trudge along they are trying between them to make some sense of what has happened. … And then we read these words. “While they were talking Jesus himself came near and went with them.”

And as the story unfolds and as their journey progresses we read that their hearts begin to burn within them as they listen to him talk. At first he is a stranger to them, they don’t recognise him, but then, just before he leaves them, they see him break bread and in an instant their eyes are opened and they see the risen Lord Jesus for who he is.

Some of us might recognise something of the story reflected in our own lives. We feel drawn to faith but at the same time it all seems a bit of a mystery. Then we are on the road with these two people. … Others of us might see the confusion and depression of the two travellers as part of our story, we too are on the road with them. … Some of us know the story of faith quite well, but the journey we’re on has become long and tedious and it is so hard to see the destination. We too are on the road with those two disciples.

Others of us are struggling with what is happening around us, the pace of change, Covid-19, the seeming lack of real direction, trouble in our relationships, vandalism on our estates, our fear which at times threatens to overwhelm us. Yes, we too are on that same road with those two people.

We can, if we choose to, bring everything that we experience, and with which we honestly struggle, to that journey, to that walk. Whether because we are in this together or because it is true for us as an individual – all of us in some way are on this journey with the two friends going to Emmaus.

In the midst of everything – before we are even sure who it is, there is someone walking along the road with us – a seeming stranger – if we knew the end of our story we’d know who it was – but now we cannot recognise him. As we talk together online, as we use social media or as we sit alone and quiet; as we pray with faith or as we struggle to believe. Jesus himself comes near and goes with us.

And as we continue on our journey of life, unsure what the future holds, even if we don’t recognise him, Jesus himself walks with us. And we have the opportunity to encounter Jesus not only as the unknown friend on the road – but as the one who welcomes us with nail torn hands into the warm embrace of God’s love. And in our shared faith, we take him in some mysterious unfathomable way into our lives and he becomes one with us in soul and body.

Take a few moments now in silence to imagine yourself walking on a journey. … See the stranger approach you and walk quietly alongside you on the road. … Walk with him, enjoy in your imagination talking to him as you walk. …

And as you go on with your life today say these words to him. “Lord, make yourself known to me in the mundane and the ordinary, speak to me and help me to listen to you.”

I switched on my desktop computer this morning to find that the Church Times was offering me a series of interviews of songwriters. I don’t have a fully-encompassing membership for on-line access to the Church Times so I looked down the selection of interviews in the Church Times email which included writers such as Nick Cave, Michael Kiwanuka, Grace Petrie and Matt Redman, and decided to read just one. The article article about Matt Redman which was first published in 2016 when “10,000 Reasons: Stories of faith, hope, and thankfulness inspired by the worship anthem,” by Matt Redman and Craig Borlase (David C. Cook, £9.99) was published. [1]

In Madeleine Davies interview with Matt Redman, a number of things caught my eye. [2] They chimed with some thoughts that I had been having about the value of the Psalms in our worship.

1. First, some things from that interview ….

Matt Redman

“While undergoing brain surgery in 2015, Reuben Hill was asked by surgeons to sing, to reassure them that the speech centre of his brain was unharmed. The song he chose was “10,000 Reasons”, [1] by Matt Redman and Jonas Myrin. “Whatever may pass And whatever lies before me Let me be singing When the evening comes,” he sang.” – Madeleine Davies starts her article with this very short story. There are songs which get inside our heads, and clearly this one was right at the forefront of Reuben Hill’s thinking.

She goes on to say that, “The song echoes both Psalm 103 in its refrain (“Bless the Lord, O my soul”) and those that find the Psalmist exhorting himself to remember God’s goodness. It also contains a nod to John Newton’s “Amazing Grace” in its anticipatory verse (“Still my soul will sing Your praise unending, ten thousand years, and then forevermore”).” Two powerful passages from scripture and the hymnody of the past.

Speaking of those words, Ms Davies continues to say that the inspiration for this verse, with its reference to failing strength and the end drawing near, was one of Matt Redman’s favourite lines which come from Charles Wesley’s “In age and feebleness extreme”, dictated on his death bed in 1788. She quotes:

In age and feebleness extreme,
Who shall a helpless worm redeem?
Jesus, my only hope Thou art,
Strength of my failing flesh and heart:
O could I catch one smile from Thee,
And drop into eternity!

It seems that Matt Redman found/finds great inspiration in the Psalms: “Pointing to the high proportion of laments in the Book of Psalms, Mr Redman spoke of the importance of songs that address pain. ‘There is no one who escapes pain, heartache, confusion, stress. . . It’s not just relevant to people in church. If you sing honest songs that are raw and real, they will be relevant to people’s lives outside the church’. . .”

“Young people needed to be reminded,” says Matt Redman, that “the Church is an ancient family, and we have this rich family history and heritage. . . It’s best not to write that off as we are standing on the shoulders of giants.”

2. Now, the Psalms

These comments apply to our own historic hymnody, which  still speaks with great power, perhaps because it is rooted as much in pain as in joy. But they apply most fully to the hymnody of the scriptures – the 150 Psalms recorded for us in the Hebrew Scriptures and appropriated by Christians in our Old Testament.

We struggle with the text of some of these Psalms because they seem to be either too negative, or too aggressive. They express sentiments that we feel perhaps should not be voiced out loud. So, we bracket off the parts that upset our sensitive natures – the Anglican church literally does this in its Psalmody. We want to make our worship about love and faithfulness and we want it to be about expressing positive thoughts. ………..

When we do this, we misunderstand what Psalms are primarily about. They are not so much about praying the vengeance of God on our enemies but rather about the honest expression of the depth of our feeling and at times our anger. This is lament rather than aggression. It is the honest expression of our hurt, our anger, our fear, our loss to the only person who ultimately can carry those feelings and who can help us through them – to God.

The Lament is something vital for our times. Something which, for our sanity, we cannot do without.

This week, Jo (my wife) and I have been reading a psalm each morning. [3] We are doing it because we have set these psalms for our church congregations to read as a shared act of prayer each day. Over the past three days we have read Psalm 77, [4] Psalm 82 [5] and Psalm 86. [6] They are psalms which express something of the confusion and fear of the times which our world is experiencing at the moment. Listen to a few of the sentiments expressed:

Psalm 77: 1-3

I cry aloud to God;  I cry aloud to God and he will hear me. In the day of my trouble I have sought the Lord;  by night my hand is stretched out and does not tire; my soul refuses comfort. I think upon God and I groan; I ponder, and my spirit faints.

Psalm 77: 6-9

I commune with my heart in the night; my spirit searches for understanding. Will the Lord cast us off for ever? Will he no more show us his favour? Has his loving mercy clean gone for ever? Has his promise come to an end for evermore? Has God forgotten to be gracious? Has he shut up his compassion in displeasure?

Psalm 82: 2-4, 8

‘How long [O. Lord] will you judge unjustly and show such favour to the wicked? ‘You were to judge the weak and the orphan; defend the right of the humble and needy; ‘Rescue the weak and the poor; deliver them from the hand of the wicked. …………………

Arise, O God and judge the earth, for it is you that shall take all nations for your possession.

Psalm 86: 1-4

Incline your ear, O Lord, and answer me, for I am poor and in misery. Preserve my soul, for I am faithful; save your servant, for I put my trust in you. Be merciful to me, O Lord, for you are my God; I call upon you all the day long. Gladden the soul of your servant, for to you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

It is only through the honest expression of what we feel, to a God who hears our prayer, that we will find any hope and peace. I still remember well the time when I was suffering with acute depression and the only part of scripture that I could read was the Psalms. I found in them the honest expression of my fear, my doubts and my confusion.

“There are times when life is so hard, when those who are against us appear to be so powerful that we fall into a state of utter despair. We feel our ……… enemies have such control over our lives and fate that we begin to doubt whether even God has the power to save us from this disaster. ………….”

In these times, when we are losing those we love and respect, to a pandemic that seems to be completely beyond our control; when we are contemplating funerals with few or no mourners; when careworkers and NHS staff have to watch those they are caring for facing painful struggle at the end of their lives, while at the same time risking their own health and well-being; when hospital chaplains stand alongside those who work so hard but can only offer their presence in the midst of that pain; and when we cannot come together physically to worship. It is the Psalms which offer us the opportunity for honest grappling with pain that we most need. No feelings need to be excluded when we express our concerns to God – our anger, our doubt, our anxiety, our hurt are all acceptable, all embraced by the love of God.

And as God sits with us in the pain he continues to point so very gently to the Cross. The place where God, in the person of Jesus, reached out arms of love and embraced all that we could lay on him. The Cross is the measure of the love of God, there can be no hiding from the truth at the Cross. Great pain, unbelievable anguish, harsh actions by those who do not understand, faithless and faithful together in one place. the whole of life caught, trapped in the experience of a few hours. And the hurtful and horrible truth of the words expressed by Jesus who feels so much pain:

“My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why have you left me alone to die here? Where are you now?”

I like the title of the article in the Church Times about Matt Redman: “Honest songs will be relevant to people’s lives,” [2] but the truth is actually more profound than that. The truth is that we will only be able to handle the deep dark nights of the soul when we bear that soul honestly before God, when wide hide nothing in our worship, when we refuse to pretend that things are OK.

At the moment, in April 2020, they are, clearly, anything but OK. ……………….

References

1. https://myktis.com/songs/10000-reasons, accessed on 18th April 2020.
2. Madeleine Davies; Honest songs will be relevant to people’s lives; Church Times, 12th August 2016;https://www.churchtimes.co.uk/articles/2016/12-august/news/uk/honest-songs-will-be-relevant-to-people-s-lives, accessed on 18th April 2020.
3. The Common Worship Psalter; https://www.churchofengland.org/prayer-and-worship/worship-texts-and-resources/common-worship/common-material/psalter, accessed often but on this occasion on 18th April 2020. The booklet we have prepared is in the Appendix below.
4. https://www.churchofengland.org/prayer-and-worship/worship-texts-and-resources/common-worship/common-material/psalter/psalm-77, accessed on 18th April 2020.
5. https://www.churchofengland.org/prayer-and-worship/worship-texts-and-resources/common-worship/common-material/psalter/psalm-82, accessed on 18th April 2020.
6. https://www.churchofengland.org/prayer-and-worship/worship-texts-and-resources/common-worship/common-material/psalter/psalm-86, acessed on 18th April 2020.
7. https://www.scross.co.za/2014/01/strength-from-psalm-77, accessed on 18th April 2020.

Appendix

Praying together through the month