Chocolate overload

This is a SERIOUS Chocolate Fountain - at the number 1 chocolate factory where I spent a delightful evening with a friend last week. I am now the proud owner of a beautiful chocolate handbag. What fun. What a charming chocolatier who led our workshop - though he would shy from calling himself that. As we made conversation with two precocious young girls, also participants in the workshop, we discovered that they also lived in Ayrshire and that their head teacher is a member of my congregation. What a small world! It was a great way to spend an evening but I am sorry to testify that there IS such a thing as too much chocolate! Fortunately the recovery time is short.

Tried and found wanting

Today I feel as though I have been "tried and found wanting". That's not an entirely unfamiliar feeling. I'm sure most of us have negotiated that territory at some point. While an uncomfortable place to be, it does prompt what can often be valuable reflection and discernment.  Is living up to the expectations possible - or desirable?
On reflection, my failing to meet expectations is something with which I can live. The gospels are littered with stories of Jesus being tried and found wanting. Assured of his calling, Jesus pressed on, confident in mission, not prepared to compromise the work of the kingdom, not prepared to be distracted by the shiny new things. As a beloved child of God, I too am prepared to be a disappointment for the sake of the Kingdom of God.

Serendipity

Continuing on the theme of boats, I used this image of a paper boat I saw floating in the canal recently in worship today. It was only when I saw the image enlarged on the screen that I realised how beautiful was the image on the paper folded to create the boat. Right in the centre, it displays two people in relationship. Did the person who created this vessel plan this or was it an accident of creation? I love the idea of random forces coming together - of the image in the folding and of being on the tow path and capturing this photo - all just at the right moment. But isn't that life?

The beat of a different drum

In a leadership training day, the question was posed: "Where have you seen a model of Servant Leadership?" The quick response from a group comprising of ministers: "Well, that would be the gospels." True - but look how it ended for that particular leader!
It was fun to explore different forms of leadership and give some thought to how and where we might model those systems in an organisation that involves managing so many volunteers and appears to operate using a different code - or is that just an excuse to manage badly?
Another question that has stayed with me is: "What kind of organisation are we attempting to steer - is it more akin to a luxury cruise ship or a budget airline?" That question wasn't couched in quite those terms, but those are illustrations that appeal to me! Understanding the culture in which an organisation operates may well be important in determining which model of leadership we might employ, but gaining that kind of perspective and understanding of the church at times seems an impossible task. And just when we feel we've glimpsed that, it is sure to change and slip out of our grasp again. None of these challenges, however should prevent us from seeking to be effective leaders and motivators and, in particular from learning from those who model good leadership in contemporary culture. The church demands and deserves nothing less.

Alongside ministry

One of my favourite post Easter gospels is the story of the two disciples walking to Emmaus, downcast because of Jesus' death. Jesus comes alongside and walks with them. They don't recognise him and fill him in on what has been happening. I love the idea of them having a good debate. But, even more, I love to read of the understanding that dawned on them when they got who their companion was. As they recognised him, Jesus disappeared from their sight, but he left behind immense joy. That moment of revelation is always a cause for celebration. In this encounter, it was so much more.
It is a wonderful thing to be able to get alongside people, to come to an understanding. Just one of the tasks of ministry.

Inconvenient Resurrection

It takes a while to absorb the death of someone we love. To let the news sink in, to make our peace with the loss and grief and emptiness, with the rage and the turmoil stirred up in us. That, in itself, is a roller coaster ride. But imagine the disciples state of mind when, in the throes of that emotional journey, they are faced with the Resurrection. In a funny sort of way, wouldn't it have been easier to deal with death than with this crazy state of affairs - a loved one come back to life? At least, in death, there are customs and traditions and protocols, an almost defined trajectory. Not so with Resurrection - this is charting a whole new territory. A territory that still seems awkward and unfamiliar for followers of Jesus today. Still, we wonder, how can we accommodate this (supposed to be) good news? Wouldn't it be easier to be grieving disciples? At least then we'd know what role to play, where we fitted in. But to deal with the non conformity of Resurrection takes us into unfamiliar waters, for which there is no manual let alone 5 stages. There are no tomes written about what feelings we might experience, what might be normal reactions. And so we have to deal with it - this alien landscape that confounds explanation or direction. We have to absorb it and run with it.
So, having done our best to observe the Passion, to journey carefully and faithfully through Holy Week, gathering around the cross wrung out on Good Friday, and just about managing to release the Alleluias and proclaim the good news - He is risen - on Easter Sunday, what now? There is more demanded of us. Much more. After all that expression of emotion, do we have anything left to give? Wouldn't it be easier to stick with the shadow of the tomb than to emerge into the sunlight of the garden?
Far simpler to deal with the more familiar pattern of grief than to be cast adrift in the Resurrection for which there is no template or guidelines. Are any of us willing to confess that Resurrection is just a little inconvenient? For even as we proclaim the good news in loud voices, inside our heads is a cacophony of "what now" questions and the realisation that a journey we expected to be over has only just begun. Worn out with Lent, we must hit the ground running again. The Risen Jesus does not make it easy for us in these early days beyond the cross, beyond the tomb. But the Risen Jesus does sit with us, offers us food and asks - "do you love me?" The Risen Jesus takes time to offer reassurance of our worth before commissioning us to "feed his sheep". The Risen Jesus knows only too well how inconvenient is his Resurrection.

Another kind of silence

So they went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid. Mark 1:8

No Alleluia!

No Amen!

Just a stunned silence

from the women

who went to the tomb

early in the morning.

Was it because they were overcome? 

with emotion?

with fear?

Or was it because

they realised

that if this was true

if he could rise from death

as he told them

then all those other things he said

must also be true

and we've been tagged

to continue the story. 

Still God waits

For the ending

depends on us.

Silence

How can silence be so deafening?

The discarded wood of the cross creaks gently

as bloody rags flutter in the breeze

The hillside, heaving with humanity just a few hours ago

is now deserted, eerily quiet.

Folk have wandered home,

spectacle over,

not the high jinks anticipated

just another political crucifixion

served up as propaganda,

a warning to others who might consider

stirring up dissent.

All that hype of Messiah talk - 

just another delusional magician

who couldn't magic his way

out of execution.

The place of the skull is empty

and those who do venture out of the city

hurry past, shuddering at its eeriness,

struck by the silence that hangs

like a visible pall

over the place

where the criminals were killed.

It is a silence charged and pulsating

a silence that feels as though

it's about to burst.

All is not well.

There is something terrible in that silence

As though hell is about to burst through

and only God can prevent it.

It was on the Friday

From pillar to post

tried by religious authorities,

political authorities,

and by ordinary people.

Tried and found wanting

on trumped up charges

from corrupt motives.

Tried, condemned and summarily sentenced to death,

death by public execution, nailed to a cross of wood,

witnessed by friends and family

by criminals and soldiers

experiencing total dereliction

surrendering his spirt

into the hands of God.

And the crowd moves on

to find something new

to catch their interest

a dead Messiah

can't cut it any more.

And, even though we know

the twist in the tale,

we who know the joy

of Easter Sunday

are no less fickle

as we seek new thrills

and fresh scandal

in which to become embroiled.

And still Christ hangs on

to his cross

determined to save

the likes of us.

Hallelujah! What a saviour.

It was on the Thursday

Back to the city

Sharing Passover with his friends,

showing them how to serve,

washing their feet,

serving at table,

being God incarnate

layering everything with new meaning,

the depth of which they could only grasp

after his death.

And, after instituting a memorial,

he went out into the garden

to await his betrayer's kiss.

Knowing agony

but remaining resolute

to do God's will.

Off he goes to arrest and trial

witnessing all his friends

fleeing and failing

yet still looking on them

with eyes full of love

and a heart full of forgiveness

and a mind resolved

to save the world.

Hallelujah - what a Saviour.

A woman's instinct

In Bethany, at the home of Simon the leper

a woman went with her gut

she saw something she could do

and, in love, she did it.

While the religious authorities were pontificating,

getting all aerated about their rules being flaunted,

while the political kaisers were brewing venom

perceiving their supremacy was being eroded

while the men around Jesus were humming and hawing,

knowing something was up but not sure what to do,

a woman saw an act of spontaneous love she could offer

and she did.

Pure nard became pure love

poured out extravagantly

without inhibition

flooding the room with fragrance

soothing the Lord

with healing balm.

"Wherever the gospel is preached, this story will be told in memory of her."

We remember a woman who gave

spontaneously, extravagantly, uninhibitedly, in love.

We salute her instinct.

And we look for opportunities

to trust and to act on our instincts with spontaneous love.

It was on the Wednesday

On the Wednesday, at last

he kept a low profile

"withdrawn in silence in Bethany"

But it was already too late.

Judas was bargaining with the chief priests

negotiating his thirty pieces of silver.

It would take more than a day in silence

to quell the resentment he had stirred up.

It would take more than a day withdrawn

to let the furore die down.

And you would think it would take

much much more than a day's retreat

to prepare himself

for the agony that awaited him

much more than a day

to step back into the fray

and continue his journey

to the cross.

In that final week

he kept out of the spotlight

for a day.

Hallelujah! What a saviour.

It was on the Tuesday

It was on the Tuesday 

that he told stories

about the two sons

the wicked husbandmen

the marriage supper

the ten virgins 

and the talents.

He fielded questions,

batted them right back

to the Pharisees, the Sadducees

and that "certain lawyer"

He looked into the future

and predicted

that Jerusalem would be destroyed

and painted a picture

of the last judgement.

All in a day's work

for a man on a journey,

 a man whose friends

were dropping like flies

failing him at every turn.

And who can blame them?

Who wants to set themselves up

for public execution?

Best to get out now

as the stories gets stranger

and the teaching gets too near the bone.

That was on the Tuesday...

It was on the Monday...

Mark 11:15-19

Then they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who were selling and those who were buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold doves; and he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. He was teaching and saying, ‘Is it not written,“My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations”? But you have made it a den of robbers.’ And when the chief priests and the scribes heard it, they kept looking for a way to kill him; for they were afraid of him, because the whole crowd was spellbound by his teaching. And when evening came, Jesus and his disciples' went out of the city

The crowd has dispersed for now

but still Jesus hogs the limelight

upsetting the temple traders

re-asserting the law

fascinating onlookers.

The religious big wigs

did not appreciate

that he pointed out their failings

and they're already determined

to get him

they are desperate

to put an end

to his unconventional behaviour

that attracts attention 

and encourages ordinary people

to act subversively.

Keep a low profile?

He wouldn't know how.

He is on a mission - 

uncovering  failure

all the way to the cross.

Fool's errand

It started with the search for a colt

a fools errand for the disciples

It ended with a parade

a clown's procession for the common people.

For Jesus used that colt

to laugh in the face of the authorities

taunting them

flexing his muscles of influence and popularity.

He really should have been keeping a low profile.

But, throwing caution to the wind,

he took himself into the city

and, enjoying, momentarily, the protection of the crowd

he pushed his enemies over the edge.

And he knew it.

He looked around, saw it was late, and left.

Late on so many levels.

Late in the day.

Late in the journey.

Too late for him.

His boats were now burned

and the salvaged timber already fashioned

into a cross.

A simple request: Find me a colt

set in motion

a whole series

of truths and dares

of arrest and trial

of betrayal

and denial.

His fate was sealed

and so was our redemption

as palms dissolve into passion.

A fool's errand indeed!

Liz Crumlish Palm Sunday 2012