The need for hope

This week has involved lots of conversations about hope. Hope in the face of illness. Hope in the possibility of change. Hope in a brighter future.
I have always maintained that part of ministry involves having enough hope for others who feel they have none.
I was also reading about the Beltane Festival, an ancient celebration occurring at the beginning of May, marking a season of hope for the harvest that is to come, among other things.
And, of course, it was said of the Royal Wedding, that such pomp and pageantry, were welcome signs of hope in the midst of so much darkness in the world. A brief respite, if you like.
In this season after Easter, faith gives us cause to hope and allows us to be a people who can hold out hope, enough for others, in all the struggles that are a part of daily life.

Easter is forever

As we returned from a day away yesterday, I caught myself thinking - "Well, that's Easter over!" And a resounding Noooooo went through my head. Of course it's not over. EASTER LASTS FOREVER!
It's tempting to feel, after the journey through Lent and the emotion of Holy Week that the joy and exuberance of Easter Sunday brings things to a fitting conclusion. But, of course, the wonderful heart of the Christian faith is that the message of Easter - Life and love overcoming death - is something we can celebrate every day bringing light even into the darkest of times. ALLELUIA!

He is risen - Alleluia!

Why do you seek the living among the dead?
He is not here. He is risen!
Woohoo!
(Matthew 28 paraphrased)

For whom do we wait? (not the Easter bunny!)

In the silence that now ensues
after all the worship
and all the singing
after all the shouts of Crucify him!
and the soundscape of whips and nails
and creaking and groaning
and weeping and wailing
for whom do we wait?


The Risen Christ in all his glory?
For sure.
But how will he come?
In shining white robes,
striding with power and majesty
entering on a fanfare of praise?
or silently stealing in
walking alongside us
and, when pressed,
showing us the marks of his suffering and death?


Where we are
the Risen Christ is
How we need him to be
the Risen Christ is
In the watching and the waiting
in the silence
he comes.
King of Kings
Lord of Lords
We wait on the miracle that is Resurrection.

The things he carried - The amazing love of God

The Things He Carried – The amazing love of God

How could he bear all those things.

The weight of the cross.

The piercing mockery of the crown of thorns.

The burden of the sin of the world.

The dashing of the hopes of his followers.

The crushing rejection.

Each a weight more deadly than the last.

How could he carry all that

and still cry – Father forgive.

How could he carry all that

and still say to the thief– This day you will be with me in Paradise

How could he carry all that

and, on seeing his mother watching with breaking heart,

say – Woman, your son.

How could he carry all that

and in the depths of rejection

cry - My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

How could he carry all that

and say I thirst

How could he carry all that

and cry: It is finished

How could he carry all that

and, at the last say

Father into your hands I commend my Spirit.

Bearing the weight

of the cross,

the crown of thorns,

the sin of the world

the unfulfilled hopes

the rejection

still Christ knew

the amazing love of God

there for him

and for us

there in the beginning

and in the end

all that he carried

was carried in the amazing love of God

The things he carried - The sin of the world

The Things He Carried – The sin of the world

We see the ugly lump of wood

that he bears through the streets.

We see the crude crown of thorns

piercing his head.

Less visible is the weight of our sin

that bears down upon him

relentlessly.

So much weight there

the big and the small

the grand and the petty

the local and the global

the commission and the omission.

All those wrongs that are ours

sometimes when we don’t even know it.

He carries them

and bears them away with him

on the cross.

Sometimes, we don’t even want to give them up

our sins.

but he carries them anyway.

He lifts them up

with him on that cross

and in carrying our sins

offers us a chance

to begin again

free of our burden.

He carried

the sin of the world.

The things he carried - Rejection

The Things He Carried – Rejection

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

The words Jesus cried as he gave himself up to death.

As his body stretched out of kilter

and his lungs were crushed

as he struggled with each agonising breath.

As he pronounced forgiveness for the thief

and for us.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

The man who went about doing good.

Teaching, healing, restoring worth.

Turning on its head

all the practice of the law.

The man who had to carve out space

to be by himself

because folk wanted

constantly to be around him.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

As he watched his disciples

skulk away

and hide in the mob

of angry people

baying for his blood.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

As he looked in sorrow

at his mother in her sorrow

enduring the agony of losing her child.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

The man who gave himself for others

Who loved and laughed and held nothing back

In death alone, deserted,

knowing the desolation of rejection.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?

The things he carried - Unfulfilled hopes

The Things He Carried – Unfulfilled Hopes

Too good to be true

Just knew it.

Everytime we pin our hopes

on some new liberator

we come up disappointed.

The talk was good.

Even the action.

But, in the end,

we’re left high and dry yet again.

Is it us?

Our sense of judgement that’s wrong?

Are we too easily led?

Whatever the reason,

we keep on backing the wrong horse.

And only when we’ve thrown in our lot

and given up our livelihoods

are our hopes dashed once more.

This really seemed to be the real thing.

A revolutionary who was so extraordinary.

Who came, bringing peace, not a sword.

Preaching love, not hate.

Who spoke so eloquently

and backed up his words with action.

Who had us, quite literally, eating out of his hand.

We tried to tell him

that he’s gone far enough.

That he should keep it down for a while.

With so many folk in the city for Passover

it would have been easy to keep a low profile.

But Jesus always did it his way –

or his Father’s way, he claimed.

And so, instead of lying low

when the authorities were baying for blood

he walked right into their path.

He seemed to welcome arrest.

Even then, we thought that might be

some last heroic act.

But it doesn’t look much like it now.

There he hangs,

like any other common criminal

silenced, defeated.

And with him, all our hopes.

The things he carried - a crown of thorns

The Things He Carried – A Crown of thorns

As if it weren’t enough

to be sentenced

to a slow and agonising death,

Jesus was mocked.

A crown of thorns

placed on his head

Roughly, crudely.

Perhaps the stabbing pain of that

as it dug into his scalp

in the warm sun of the day

subsided in the midst

of all the other pain he endured.

A crown of thorns

signifying his kingship

that no one would recognise

neither religious authorities

or civil authorities

not even his followers.

A king.

A king who bore regally

all that was placed upon him that day

who carried with dignity

a crown of thorns.

The things he carried - a cross

The Things He Carried – A Cross

A benign piece of wood

that might have been whittled

and fashioned into something beautiful

became an instrument of torture.

Something once living

in the density of the forest

that grew up from a sapling

to become the fine specimen

that was cut down

to provide the means

by which the oppressor’s

death sentence

was carried to completion.

Carried by a sinless man

hoisted up on a hillside

with its human cargo

Jesus

forced to undergo

a public and humiliating death.

Jesus, already suffering

from beatings

physically and emotionally

imagining all too vividly

what lay in store for him

Jesus forced to carry

that rough, heavy piece of wood.

Shouldering the cross

that the world might be saved.

Shouldering the cross

that you and I might know love.

Shouldering the cross

to show what love is.

Preparing for Holy Week

In our Holy Week services, we'll be looking again at some of the folk Jesus encountered on his journey to Jerusalem, who have featured in the lectionary gospel readings for the season of Lent. People like the Samaritan woman at the well, Lazarus, whom he raised from the dead and the blind man whose eyes Jesus opened in more ways than one. All people whose lives were changed by their encounter with Jesus.
On Maundy Thursday, we remember the institution of the sacrament of communion and gather, as Jesus did with his disciples to share bread and wine.
On Good Friday, inspired by Stephen Cottrell's book: The Things He Carried, we will consider all that Jesus took upon himself, physically and emotionally.
Each day, I hope to post on the blog, a meditation on those things that Jesus carried to the cross.
Lent has, for some reason, seemed very long this year. The journey is almost over. But the best - and the worst - is yet to come.
And so we journey on.

In good company

Enjoying the company of good friends this weekend and into Holy Week. Although there's lots of work to do, it's amazing how that takes on a whole new perspective when shared with different people and looked at with fresh eyes. And how much more fun there is in the busyness knowing that there is the opportunity to relax in good company at the end of the day.
As Jesus journeyed resolutely to the cross, I wonder how much opportunity he had to be cared for by his friends and how much it changed things for him to be accompanied, even though he knew that, at the end of the day, his journey was one he had to make alone.

Palm Sunday People

Who were these people?

The city was busy.

Teeming with Passover revellers.

Why did they all feel the need

to come and welcome Jesus?

We were hoping, for once, to keep a low profile.

Tired of attracting big crowds wherever we went with Jesus

we thought, at least, we’d have a quiet Passover

Thought everyone would be too busy

with their own family preparations

to take notice of ours.

And it was also time that

Jesus got out of the limelight

We could tell the authorities didn’t like it

they were getting really antsy

It wasn’t just Jesus

though he kept attracting unwelcome attention

but, all the people, it seemed

were getting pretty feisty

and the authorities were getting nervous

clamping down on the most minor infractions.

Definitely NOT the time to be processing into the city

even on a donkey!

It was only a matter of time

before a ban would be imposed

on public gatherings

and demonstrations

the kind that had been breaking out everywhere recently.

So we’d hoped to enter the city quietly

to keep below the radar.

But, before we got anywhere near,

we could hear the shouts of the crowd

not angry, insurrectionist shouts

but the shouts of revellers

out for a picnic.

Maybe they were hoping for more miracles

a healing or two

or to be fed some more of those amazing stories

Jesus seemed to

make up as he went along.

Whatever they came looking for

they were not disappointed

There was Jesus

seemingly innocuous

riding on a donkey

but the people saw it

as something different altogether.

They always seemed to read into everything Jesus did

Saw mockery, even subversion

to the political era of oppression.

Why was it Jesus they flocked to?

Why turn their attention on him.

surely that day, the people signed his death warrant

as surely as if they had shouted

Crucify him!

 Liz Crumlish 2011


Another Palm Sunday Reflection here.

Part of the crowd

These worry dolls, picked up in Mexico on the RevGals cruise last month, provided the final symbol for our mid week Lenten worship. Each week, we have collected a symbol illustrating the gospel and allowing us to reflect during the week on Jesus' journey to Jerusalem and the people he encountered on the way. Tonight we were reflecting on how easy it is to be part of the crowd and go with the flow, even when we know we should stand up for something different. Hopefully, these colourful dolls will encourage us to "stand out from the crowd".

Toasting Peeps

This time last year, Easter was over and we were enjoying a break with good friends in Virginia. We were introduced to something that seems to be an integral part of an American Easter - marshmallow peeps! Cute, coloured marshmallow chicks and bunnies. We decided to barbecue some. As they caught the flames, the psychedelic colours produced testified to all the unnatural chemicals they contained.
Cute, but not harmless.
Preparing to celebrate Palm Sunday and, in doing that, give some hint of the Passion that is to follow the image of burning peeps keeps flashing into my mind. Not helpful - except as a reminder that, hidden in amongst the cuteness of children waving palm branches and singing Hosanna! is the barb of a crown of thorns. Before we get to that celebration of Christ rising from the tomb at Easter, involving fluffy chicks and bunnies and even marshmallow peeps, we must first witness Christ's death on the cross - in love for us.

It's all in the timing.

Have had a timely reminder, at the beginning of another week that God's timing is always perfect timing. No matter how impatient we get. No matter how frustrated. God brings everything in season.
That fact is so often evident in retrospect - the trick is - to remember it when we're caught up in the thick of things.
There is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3

Following Christ

Approaching the end of a long, exhausting day, at the end of another long, exhausting week, just part of yet another long and draining liturgical season, it is tempting to question the point of all the effort expended. Why sit with those who are dying? Why laugh with those who celebrate the wonder of new birth? Why walk alongside those with so many questions, knowing there are no answers? Why seek to encourage others to experience the wonder of faith and worship? Why be constantly open to others' joy and pain and appreciation and censure?
Because our world, locally and globally needs to know the love of God. Love that is patient and kind. Love that does not envy or boast. Love that lasts for ever.
And so, while hierarchies posture and strategise, while the Church of Scotland as an institution reshuffles and reorganises ad infinitum and forgets that it is presbyterian, still God calls ordinary people to love and to serve. To use all that we have been given and all that we have learned in the service of the Kingdom. And when we see folk being rewarded disproportionately in this life and their skills seemingly valued over ours, yet we can know the satisfaction of practicing obedience. And be reminded of the path that Christ chose - a path that led not to greater renumeration or popular acclaim but to a cross.
And onward goes our Lenten journey.

It's all about me... and my kindle

How delightful to discover that the new picnic tables at the beach were designed to co ordinate with my Kindle cover.

Resurrection just around the corner

At this stage in Lent, I am impatient for Easter. I feel the need to get out of the wilderness. All around are signs of spring. Not just fluffy chicks and gamboling lambs but places being spruced up for a new season. And the spring like sunshine has aided and abetted the impact of longer days topped off with pretty sunsets.
But the whole point of Lent demands that we wait, that we stick it out to the end as Jesus did. The journey is not yet over. So we need to soak up that sunshine while it is available. We need to enjoy the signs of spring and allow them to lift our hearts. And return to the wilderness, keeping faith with Christ who went all the way. Resurrection IS just around the corner but we still have work to do. And our celebration will be all the sweeter if we hold back and savour the journey.

Savouring

The setting sun just visible 

through the blossom

soon to dip behind the hills.

Before the sun bids farewell

for another night,

it puts on quite a display

that makes us look forward

to its rising

to herald a new day.

The blossom too will soon disappear

but, before it does

it trails a wonderful pageant

 littering the ground 

and dancing in the wind

making us long for its return

but, in the meantime

encouraging us

to simply enjoy

each moment.

Proclaiming faith

As I travelled by train through some beautiful Scottish countryside this morning, I was struck by how many church towers and spires dotted the horizon. Even the smallest hamlets boasted an impressive edifice. Some of these buildings may, of course, no longer be in use as churches but their presence spoke to me of witness and of heritage.
In our midweek service tonight, we read of Martha's confession, before Jesus raised her brother Lazarus from the dead: You are the Messiah, Son of God. 
Each of us has the potential to stand as a living, breathing testament to faith in the God of life.
By fulfilling this potential, not only our countryside but our towns and cities too will be infused with signs of the presence of God.

Traveling light

Musing today on what is really necessary for the journey. And how much "stuff" we could leave behind. Wanting to be prepared, we sometimes carry too much. I know I am much too shallow to be away for any length of time without my hair straighteners. Yet, if I could lay them down, what else might there be room for?
And if I reach beneath the surface, what else do I carry around or imagine I cannot be without? What could I make room for if I would only risk being without something I consider vital?
Lenten discipline might involve dredging up those things we consider necessary to make some space - and then to resist the temptation to immediately fill the void created. Poverty of Spirit is a gift to be sought after and treasured.

Standing firm

Solid as a rock

that has withstood the ravages

of sea and wind and weather

that has cowered in the blast

yet remained

standing firm

Worn at the edges

chiseled and gouged

but grounded

Such is faith

in the God of life

Faith that brings not immunity

but helps us withstand

all that life brings

and more- 

faith that helps us

smile through the storm

not because we are hardened

or because we do not care

but because we love deeply

the one who loves us

with a love

that cannot be measured

or eroded

or swept aside

one whose love

endures forever.

That unseen cloud of witnesses

Tonight I shared in a memorial service for a friend who died at the beginning of the year. While I still feel his loss keenly, at this stage, some 3 months on from the funeral, I'm in a much better place to celebrate his life. I was privileged to share his impact on my life, his encouragement and his nurture - all of which were considerable. On the way home, I've been reflecting on the saints who are in my life right now. And thinking - I shouldn't wait until they are no longer physically present to celebrate all the gifts they share. Giving thanks for that unseen cloud of witnesses, I also want to celebrate those who provide inspiration and nurture and spiritual enrichment every day. Thanks be to God.

Windows to the soul?

Amidst the cooking and cleaning today, I have been thinking about the story of the shepherd boy David, the youngest of his brothers, being anointed by the prophet Samuel as the next king(1Samuel 16:1-13). The prophet is assured by God, that it is not the outward appearance that counts. Just as well, since David must have seemed really puny in comparison to his big brothers. However, the text does mention that David had "beautiful eyes". It's a strange detail to include, especially when one layer of the message seems to be that appearance doesn't matter. Those "beautiful eyes" must surely reveal something much deeper - a beautiful soul perhaps?
The Gospel reading is the one we considered mid week about a blind man being given sight. Sight that revealed Jesus to him as the Son of God. As always, lots of hidden depths in the texts this week. Lots to work with and mull over. What will God reveal to us?

Revisiting old haunts

In the past week, I've encountered two colleagues whom I haven't seen since we graduated in 1993. One of those colleagues took the time to track me down and make contact. That's a wonderful gift - to be able, rather than vaguely wonder how someone is, to go further and follow up. I don't do that nearly enough.
I could make all sorts of excuses about why I let some relationships slide. And there are some relationships that are not meant to last for ever. But I would like to be more intentional about keeping in touch. Facebook certainly helps and I am grateful for the new old friends I have made on there. But Bill's example has given me a wonderful lesson in taking the initiative.
Here's to more intentional nurturing of relationships.