Walking the beach with Jesus

John 21:15-17
Jesus and Peter
When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.

Come for a walk he said

Come for a walk

where I will show you

how much I love you

Come for a walk he said

Come for a walk 

where I will show you

you are forgiven

Come for a walk he said

Come for a walk

where I will show you

all that I ask of you

It’s simple really

It doesn’t involve strategies

or fundraising

or buildings management

or future proofing 

It involves loving me

and feeding my sheep

that’s it.
Come for a walk he said,

Come for a walk 
with me.

Mary, mother of God

John 19:25-27
Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, “Woman, here is your son.” Then he said to the disciple, “Here is your mother.” And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.

In the agony of death

you looked upon

the woman who gave you life

the woman who offered up her womb

for Gods seed to be planted

An offering that brought her 

shame

and joy

searing pain

and loss

pride

and puzzlement

consuming love

and crippling grief

You looked upon her

and asked her

for more -

to mother

your beloved disciple.

You placed him

into her care

and her

into his.

You knew

in the days to come

she would long for

a son to hold

and to cherish

one who would

look out for her

in her 

landscape of loss.

And there is a beauty

in a mother given

and a son chosen

in a relationship forged

not through blood

but gouged out

in love

May we know the joy

of mothering

and being mothered

in every stage of life.

Mary, our mother

lend us your love.

The Emmaus Road of Covid 19

Luke 24:13-16

The Walk to Emmaus
Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him.

Two family members

from the same household 

walked a necessary journey

to spend lockdown together

As they walked a stranger drew near,

too near, and walked beside them

They eyed him with suspicion

and asked him to stay 2 metres apart.

As he took up a socially distant position

he asked them what was troubling them?

Why the face mask and gloves?

Incredulously, they told him about the virus

about the carnage it was wreaking

and the isolation measures being imposed

How could he not have heard?

He told them about the homeless woman

he’d just met who, for the first time,

was being given a place to shelter

who didn’t know the rules

of social engagement or of distancing

and who could not settle into a new reality

for fear of what awaited her at the other end

when, inevitably she’d be back on the street.

He told them of the young nurse

who, every day, dropped off his children at school

while most of their friends were home

so that he could go and hold the hands

and adjust the masks

of those who were fighting for life

and of his terror that he would

bring the virus home.

He told them of the young man

whose wife had just given birth to their first child

who could not bring the child to be held

by his parents or octogenarian grandparents

who was learning the skills of parenting

through WhatsApp and FaceTime.

He told them of young people

unable to undertake the  rites of passage

that mark their movement through 

all the phases and seasons of life

He told them of folk of all ages

at risk, isolating alone

relying on strangers and neighbours for support

He told them of the pain of families

whose loved ones had died

without family by their side

unable to perform the rituals

of grief and mourning.

He told them story after story

not to diminish their own fear and loss

but to enable them

in the midst of it all

to sense community

to honour sacrifice

to catch a glimmer of hope

and to know

that all that they were being asked to endure

could not last forever

That all that they learned

and the beauty that they witnessed

in the present and in the emerging

would not be lost

when the virus was conquered

And the world would be changed forever

as care

and compassion 

and love

and connection

became gifts 

that were celebrated beyond price

And, when he disappeared from their sight

they found that he had left

on the doorstep

for them

bread and wine

And the law

and the prophets

and the theologians

and the liturgists

no longer mattered

Whether virtual or real

or physical or spiritual

Christ was present in the sacrament they shared

and in the hope and promise

they clung to

for the future.

It is the Lord!

John 21:4-7
Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!”

I love the weeks after Easter, when we normally read about Jesus’ resurrection appearances. Each of the different encounters of the Risen Christ with the disciples seems to me to be restorative. They are encounters filled with love, with forgiveness, with passion, giving back to the disciples all that they lost in the trauma of the events surrounding Jesus’ betrayal, arrest and crucifixion.
This year, somehow, I can’t quite get to that restorative place of the post resurrection Christ. To be perfectly honest, I’m not sure that I’ve even reached Holy Saturday, never mind the empty tomb.
Sure, I proclaimed: “He is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia” - last weekend. And, at least for a moment, there was joy. But that joy was fleeting as the light was dimmed once more by the trauma of a world in lockdown. And I wonder if this Easter is more authentic than any other I have experienced.
Because the love, the light, the forgiveness and the restoration are the things that I crave more than ever before. It’s not that hope and joy are absent but that they look so different this year, quieter, subdued, perhaps more real and more precious, grounded in small things that have taken on a new significance. It’s the uncertainty and unpredictability that surrounded the disciples that are the emotions that we inhabit today. Indeed, it seems that discombobulation has always been the lot of God’s people - in wilderness, in exile, in inhabiting and affecting the cultures that surrounded them, in waiting for the revealing of God and of learning anew how to be God’s people in a strange land time after time. Always called to dwell and grow in liminal spaces, to make sense of God’s presence, to discern God’s faithfulness and leading. Like all liminal dwelling, it’s too early to sketch what comes next, though many will try. This isn’t a time for planning our next moves, of who we might be when we emerge, it’s a time for being, in these moments. Recognising what we value, caring for the most vulnerable, garnering strength and understanding, sharing the confusion that accompanies our faith, these are the tasks of these days. And, if we struggle to see resurrection amidst all the death, if we’re left peering into the tomb trying to make sense of it all, not yet ready to greet the risen Christ, far less have breakfast with him, we are not failing. Christ himself waits with us, hunkered down, exhausted and broken too. Christ sits amid the debris of burned down candles that struggle to point to the light. Christ enters our lived reality, shouldering our sadness, strengthening our compassion, infusing our tears with the balm of healing, making no demands. And, when we persist in faith, resurrection will come, tiptoeing in, silently making its presence felt, a flash here, a glimpse there, until eventually the flame burns steady again and we are ready for breakfast, ready to hear how Christ will commission us to live into a changed world with the wisdom of all that we have learned on our way from the cross to the empty tomb. Until then, Christ waits with us.

This Easter, Lord Jesus

We encounter you

not in a garden early in the morning

but at all hours of the day and night

in every hospital

and care home

in makeshift wards

and mortuaries

in the guise of 

nurses and doctors

of cleaners and porters

of technicians and drivers

of chaplains and administrators

This Easter, Lord Jesus,

We glimpse your wounds on display

not in a locked room with a select few

but in Intensive Care Units

where people struggle for breath

where machines aid breathing

where angels bring comfort

with or without

the equipment

and protection

that they need.

This Easter Lord Jesus

We see you breathe your peace 

not behind closed doors 

but on all those who need comforted

Loved ones who cannot be together

Those who have no opportunity

to say goodbye

denied the ritual 

of last offices of love

On carers who are overwhelmed

by the demands of their role

yet keep on going.

This Easter Lord Jesus

you walk with us

not on the road to Emmaus

but through every emotion

and question

and cry of despair

You listen without dismissal

carefully holding

all that we share.

This Easter, Lord Jesus

we recognise you 

not in the breaking of bread

but at every table 

where families gather

forced together

or kept apart

and in every means we have

of maintaining relationships

and of staying connected

You continue to surprise us 

Risen Lord

Turning up when we least expect you

in places we would never imagine 

May the light of resurrection 

Pierce the darkness

in us 

and in our world today.

Breathe

John 20:19-22

Jesus Appears to the Disciples

When it was evening on that day, the first day of the week, and the doors of the house where the disciples had met were locked for fear, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you.” After he said this, he showed them his hands and his side. Then the disciples rejoiced when they saw the Lord. Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.” When he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.

Locked inside

in fear

Huddled together

not sure of what to do next

Some champing at the bit

just waiting for things

to get back to normal

back to whatever was left

of their livelihoods

Some never wanting to show face again

so disillusioned were they

crushed hopes

crushed dreams

resigned to life in lockdown

When the Risen Christ appeared

Peace was probably

the last thing they wanted

Peace?

What were they supposed 

to do with peace?

They wanted an explanation

Advice

Motivation

Direction

Not peace

Particularly not breathed peace

Breath carries the stench of death

the danger of contagion

Peace

Breathed in

was what they got

and what they needed

And it was

by breathing in peace

that they were able

to face the world

in Resurrection light.

Do not be afraid

Matthew 28:1-8
The Resurrection of Jesus
After the sabbath, as the first day of the week was dawning, Mary Magdalene and the other Mary went to see the tomb. And suddenly there was a great earthquake; for an angel of the Lord, descending from heaven, came and rolled back the stone and sat on it. His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow. For fear of him the guards shook and became like dead men. But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid; I know that you are looking for Jesus who was crucified. He is not here; for he has been raised, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay. Then go quickly and tell his disciples, ‘He has been raised from the dead, and indeed he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him.’ This is my message for you.” So they left the tomb quickly with fear and great joy, and ran to tell his disciples.

Do not be afraid!

Really?

In the midst of pandemic

when all we know is upended

when all we love is at risk

How can we not be afraid?

You, O Lord,

whose every landmark moment

of life

and death

was accompanied by these words

Do not be afraid 

Whispered by the angel 

who visited Mary the mother of God

to announce your coming

Do not be afraid

Sung by a heavenly choir

to shepherds 
Do not be afraid

shouted over the wind and waves
to disciples on a stormy sea

Do not be afraid
spoken to Peter , James and John

on a mountaintop

Do not be afraid
Pronounced to women at the tomb

To disciples in a locked room

To fishermen on the beach

To those who witnessed the Ascension

Do not be afraid
You proclaim these words
Risen Christ
as a portent
to your merging heaven with earth
May we always see in these words
your presence
giving strength
your power
making a difference
your love
changing us
until we see the whole world
in the light of a loving creator
who knows us
who loves us
and who holds us fast
in risen power.
Do not be afraid

Waiting

Matthew 27:57-61
The Burial of Jesus
When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.

So that’s it

After all the kerfuffle

all the hype

that’s what it came down to

A broken body

buried in a stone cold tomb 

And two women

sitting waiting

No more to be said

No more to be done

Sabbath

And yet...

And yet...

there is beauty

and sacrament

in the waiting

Waiting 

with the sorrow

Waiting

with the soul crushing pain

Waiting

with the ache in the chest

that was forged 

in love

shattered, messy love

that knows no logic

that cannot be bound

The kind of love

that we wouldn’t be without

though it causes such pain

Two women

Mary Magdalene

and

the other Mary

kept their vigil.

In the searing hurt

of loss and love

they waited.

As must we.

It is finished

John 19:28-30

After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfil the scripture), “I am thirsty.” A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth. When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

It is finished

For too many across the world

this cry echoes

It is finished

It echoes 

as a virus that respects none

robs them of the breath of life

It echoes 

in refugee camps

and on cruise ships

in urban slums

and in parliaments

in deserted cities

and in rural villages

in homes

in hospitals

in care facilities

It is finished

And the brutal execution

of a political prisoner

suddenly doesn’t seem so fanciful 

so at odds with reality

when the whole world is united

in resisting a common enemy

It is finished

is not the end

for all who have died

and for all who mourn

Our collective grief

will continue to shape

our lives

and the life of the world

for all time

A cross shaped grief

into which is gathered

our pain

our vulnerability

our helplessness

our loss

our determination

our community

our humanity 

Gathered up in that cry

It is finished 

as we wrestle

with what it means

to be human beings

connected across the globe

dependant on each

playing their part

Dependant on our fragile ecology

Dependant

on being human

Together

Dependant on love

that excludes none

and encompasses all.

It is finished

And it is only just beginning.

Love between

John 19:16-18
Then he handed him over to them to be crucified.
So they took Jesus; and carrying the cross by himself, he went out to what is called The Place of the Skull, which in Hebrew is called Golgotha. There they crucified him, and with him two others, one on either side, with Jesus between them.

Between them

Crucified... between them

Creating a bridge

over which flowed love

Love that was pierced

Love that bled

Love that died

for a time

This Good Friday
that is where I want to be
hunkered down
in that love
that streams between
I know the rest of the story
I know that resurrection happens
But this Good Friday
my eyes are drawn
more than ever
to the cross
where love
was crucified.
And in a world
where many are dying
alone and between
that love,
for me,
is the only possibility
of hope.

Do as I have done...

John 13:12-15
After Jesus had washed their feet, had put on his robe, and had returned to the table, he said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call me Teacher and Lord—and you are right, for that is what I am. So if I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have set you an example, that you also should do as I have done to you.

The foot washing we mimic

in our pimped up sanctuaries

on Maundy Thursday

with our tepid water

and pristine white fluffy towels

will never get close

to the ritual played out

by Jesus

who handled the feet

of grown men

who had just traversed

the gutters and cesspools

of Jerusalem

at festival time.

Our notions of servanthood

can barely compute

the magnitude 

of the teacher

stooping,

kneeling

bathing

caressing

the soles

of his disciples.

And all without PPE.

But today 

all over the world

we are witnessing

such magnitude

of selfless giving

in our frontline workers

who are risking all

to care for

the ill

and the dying.

Today, at every turn,

we are being confronted

with tangible reminders

of what servanthood looks like

and of the cost of love.

So maybe it’s a good thing 

that we won’t be able to gather 

and reenact a ritual

Instead,

as we bear witness to

an extravaganza 

of costly love

May we not look away

but, rather, observe 

and stand in awe

of the servants 

who are teaching us today

about stepping up

and stepping out

to love 

and to serve.

And may we never forget

our debt of gratitude

for their acts of servant love.

Remembering her

Matthew 26:6-13
The Anointing at Bethany
Now while Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment, and she poured it on his head as he sat at the table. But when the disciples saw it, they were angry and said, “Why this waste? For this ointment could have been sold for a large sum, and the money given to the poor.” But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, “Why do you trouble the woman? She has performed a good service for me. For you always have the poor with you, but you will not always have me. By pouring this ointment on my body she has prepared me for burial. Truly I tell you, wherever this good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.”

They shamed her

They called her out

A woman who gave her all

They pronounced judgment

like we do today

with those whose stories

we do not know

or care to learn

They ignored her passion

her costly sacrifice

preferring instead

to quibble about incidentals

about the old ways

of propping up society.

They preferred to bring the focus

to their discomfort
and their petty political point scoring

rather than the woman’s

beautiful act of compassion

And Jesus called them back

as we are recalled today

to notice what matters

The love

The kindness

The primal urge

to give and to serve

And we tune out the gum bumpers

and zoom in on

the woman

Mary of Bethany

of whom Jesus said:

wherever this good news is proclaimed 

in the whole world, 

what she has done will be told 

in remembrance of her.”

For this reason

John 12:27-32
Jesus Speaks about His Death
“Now my soul is troubled. And what should I say—‘Father, save me from this hour’? No, it is for this reason that I have come to this hour. Father, glorify your name.” Then a voice came from heaven, “I have glorified it, and I will glorify it again.” The crowd standing there heard it and said that it was thunder. Others said, “An angel has spoken to him.” Jesus answered, “This voice has come for your sake, not for mine. Now is the judgment of this world; now the ruler of this world will be driven out. And I, when I am lifted up from the earth, will draw all people to myself.”

Lord, you knew strength of purpose

A purpose from which

you refused to waver

even when confronted

with all manner of temptation

and in the face of death itself.

You knew the things

that were yours to do.

May we, in these days of confusion

know your purpose

your will for our lives.

May we discern

what is ours to do

and glorify you

by getting on with the tasks

that you reveal

are ours

for this day

and this hour.

And, amidst all the competing voices

that call us in so many directions

may we hear clearly

and unequivocally

the voice from heaven

that assures us 

that you have got this

- that you are God

and we are not

and your call to us today

is to stand firm

to be still and listen

and to follow

wherever you lead

bringing glory

to your Name.

For loves sake.

A clearance

Matthew 21:12-16
Jesus Cleanses the Temple
Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.
He said to them, “It is written,
‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’;
but you are making it a den of robbers.”
The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became angry
and said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,
‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies
you have prepared praise for yourself’?”

What of us today

who have been driven out 

of our sanctuaries?

What has become, for us,

in these days

our place of prayer?

Where are we hearing

voices raised to God

in praise

in anguish

in pleading?

How are we responding 

to those who cry out

to God?

Where are we practising

the things that we preach

in our temples?

How are we making space

to listen for wisdom

in the voices of children?

And where are we seeing

the clearing out

of all that hinders

our turning to God

to lead us through 

this time of trial?

Sifting through the carnage

for something to hold on to

what will we find?

What, in the end,

will lead us into life?

Another kind of hand washing

Matthew 27:24-26
Pilate Hands Jesus over to Be Crucified
So when Pilate saw that he could do nothing, but rather that a riot was beginning, he took some water and washed his hands before the crowd, saying, “I am innocent of this man’s blood; see to it yourselves.” Then the people as a whole answered, “His blood be on us and on our children!” So he released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.

How often do I convince myself

that I’ve taken the only available option?

How often do I justify my actions

by defining it as the least of evils?

How often is the self righteousness

I tell myself has been hard won

actually achieved

at considerable cost to another?

It is extremely possible

perhaps even probable

that there is a bit of Pilate

in all of us.

In every decision postponed

In every courageous conversation avoided

In every truth diluted

or silenced.

Hand washing

though vital for physical health

in these times

may not be so helpful 

for peace of mind.

I am not an innocent bystander

but a culpable participant

more often than I care to be.

And it will take more than hand washing

to change that.

Staying faithful

Mark 14:32-36

Jesus Prays in Gethsemane

They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. And he said to them, “I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.” And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. He said, “Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.”

Being faithful

is exhausting

Weighing up the cost 

of commitment

and change

when loss seems 

more prevalent than gain

Balancing the books

of uncertainty and agitation

with tentative peace

Not much of a relief

but  some kind of resolution

around which

life can begin to flow 

Like a sandbank in a river

Still there

but navigable

But the energy it takes

just to get that far

never mind what’s next

necessitates withdrawal

lying low

taking time

to reclaim 

all that has been eroded

in the struggle 

to be faithful

and to remain available

to possibility.

Healing

may creep in slowly

not to anaesthetise the pain

but to massage and soothe

so that tenderness

openness

and sensitivity

remain the foundation

of future growth

and continued faithfulness.