The royal line of David is like a tree that has been cut down; but just as new branches sprout from a stump, so a new king will arise from among David’s descendants.
The Spirit of the Lord will give him wisdom,
and the knowledge and skill to rule his people.
He will know the Lord’s will and honour him,
and find pleasure in obeying him.
He will not judge by appearance or hearsay;
he will judge the poor fairly
and defend the rights of the helpless.
At his command the people will be punished,
and evil persons will die.
He will rule his people with justice and integrity.
Wolves and sheep will live together in peace,
and leopards will lie down with young goats.
Calves and lion cubs will feed together,
and little children will take care of them.
Cows and bears will eat together,
and their calves and cubs will lie down in peace.
Even a baby will not be harmed if it plays
near a poisonous snake.
The land will be as full
of the knowledge of the Lord
as the seas are full of water.
Isaiah 11:1-9
It gave me a jolt today to realise that I had not yet given any thought at all to my December reflection leaflet. It had been lurking at the back of my mind, but I had not even got around to thinking of a theme. I therefore turned to the Bible and abandoned myself to Fate by opening it completely at random. Fate chose the book of the prophet Isaiah and my eyes fell upon the words “Wolves and sheep will live together in peace”.
As soon as these words caught my eye, it seemed to me that they are at the very heart of the message of Advent and the coming of Christ: the herald of a new era, an era of peace and reconciliation or, at least, the possibility of peace and reconciliation through the Spirit of God working in our lives. They conjure up in my imagination a beautiful picture of an untamed beast of the wild lying down in complete peace and tranquillity with its normal prey, a vulnerable and helpless lamb.
This image, which is intoxicatingly attractive, is the true message of the birth of Christ: he comes to bring healing and peace, he comes to help humanity, through the gift of his Spirit, to overcome all that is sinful and shameful, he comes to lighten our load and to share our burden. He comes with so many things to give us that the list seems impossibly long, almost as impossible as the image of a wolf and a lamb lying down together. But, nothing is impossible to God, and this month he puts before us the reality of a child conceived divinely, a child who would grow up to carry out feats which seem, to those who saw them at the time and for many who read the gospels now, impossible.
This wonderful passage refers to the new King who will “arise from among David’s descendants”. This new King will be filled with wisdom and knowledge; he will rule his people with everything we wish our world leaders would rule with: honesty, justice, truth and integrity. He will not judge people by the way they look, he will not pass judgement based on hearsay, he will have a special regard for the poor and the rights of the helpless.
Do we feel our own conscience pricking us? …
He will not judge people by the way they look …
He will not pass judgement based on gossip and hearsay …
He will have a special regard for the poor …
And the rights of the helpless …
Where do we stand on these issues?
As I read this passage, I wanted to be able to curl up with the wolf and the lamb and to enjoy that sense of complete trust, lack of fear and deep, deep peace. I have to then ask myself, what is stopping me? What have I allowed to come between God and me to such a degree that I am not part of this scene? Am I guilty of some of faults which condemn me and keep me from the joy of reconciliation and peace?
That is for me to sort out – no-one else can do that for me.
As in all passages from the Bible, we are in there somehow and we need to ask ourselves:
Do I trust the knowledge and skill of this new King to rule my life? How far, indeed, do I allow him to rule my life?
Do I trust this Prince of Peace to help me to find a way of making peace with those around me?
With whom do I need to make peace? Is there someone in particular with whom I really do need to make peace in order to be able to lie down with the wolf and the lamb this Christmas?
I will hear what the Lord God has to say,
a voice that speaks of peace,
peace for his people.
Mercy and faithfulness have met,
justice and peace have embraced.
Faithfulness shall spring from the earth
and justice look down from heaven.
Justice shall march before him
and peace shall follow his steps.
Ps 84:9-14
Wednesday, 1 December 2010
Monday, 1 November 2010
Christ, the Prince of Peace
Jesus comes with many titles, such as: Wonderful Counsellor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father and Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6).
On Sunday November 21st the Church will be celebrating the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Universal King. This Solemnity marks the end of the liturgical year and is the culmination of all the events of a year which begins with Advent (when we prepare for the coming of the Saviour), moves through Christmas (when we celebrate the arrival of Jesus), then into Lent (the lead up to the death of Jesus) which we remember at Easter. The rest of the year is ‘Ordinary Time’, when we have the opportunity to look at the person of Jesus outside these very specific seasons.
When a child thinks of royalty he thinks of kings, queens, princes and princesses dripping with gold, a crown on their heads, with great authority and power over their people. Royal leaders haven't always been popular, in fact, many have exacted not only awe but also fear from their people and their kingdoms have been full of strife, their people divided and at war.
Jesus' Kingship goes against everything that this world thinks of as being worthy of the term 'king'. He came unannounced except to a few poor uneducated shepherds; he was born into very meagre circumstances; he became a refugee; he grew up in anonymity; he never had any money and finally died a humiliating death on a cross, accompanied by criminals. Jesus' kingship is so radical it could be hard to see him as a king. But a King he is.
Jesus of Nazareth is a King because in his love for his people, a love transcending any love this world has ever seen or will ever see again, he gave his life for his people. Indeed, not just for his people – the Jewish community – but for the whole of humanity. His resurrection and therefore authority of Life over death is ample demonstration that there is no higher authority. Jesus' kingdom transcends race, culture, border and status. It is a kingdom united, a kingdom of selfless love. It is a kingdom of mercy, peace and reconciliation, of healing and fulfilment. It is a kingdom where all are equal and equally loved. It is a kingdom where the only currency is love. It is a kingdom where everyone will find a home that acknowledges that the little boy born to a young virgin girl in a smelly, dirty, cold stable in Bethlehem is truly the Son of God and the long awaited Saviour of the entire human race.
One could be tempted to ask: if Jesus is such a great King, why is there still so much strife, terrorism and cruelty between people in the world? Has he no control over us?
Well, who are his people? His subjects are all the baptised. But the true knights of his Kingdom are those who know him as their King and who co-operate with him. Whilst his authority has been established in heaven and the power of Life has for ever overcome the power of death, his kingdom has yet to be established here, on earth, and he is looking for us to help him to achieve this. One of his gifts to mankind was that of freedom of choice. I have the choice, today, to accept Jesus as my King and to be his true and loyal subject by treating all people as my beloved brothers and sisters and worthy of the loving kindness which Jesus demands of me. These lines from the Our Father remind us of our own role in helping Jesus to create his Kingdom here on earth:
Thy Kingdom come;
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
In other words, “May your Kingdom come to us, here on earth, soon; help me to carry out your will just as your will is carried out in heaven … then shall your kingdom be established upon our earth”.
We all know Holman Hunt’s picture of Jesus, standing and knocking at the door. This is a beautiful illustration of the nature of his kingship. He is not powering his way in and bludgeoning the inhabitants into accepting him. He is gently knocking at the door, asking permission to be given entry. His kingship therefore is as his birth: humble and gentle, and it is as he comes to us still: quietly and humbly in the form of bread and wine every time we celebrate the Eucharist. His kingship remains radical but compelling.
Whilst Jesus’ kingdom – heaven – is one of unadulterated peace and joy, earth is still a planet of unbridled division. “Do you suppose that I am here to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division” (Luke 12:52) is the surprising and confusing assertion given by the Prince of Peace!
It is precisely because Jesus is the ‘Prince of Peace’ that there is such division in the world, because Jesus’ way of dealing with a quarrel or squabble was to offer the other cheek and this is something which, in our flawed humanity, we find so difficult. His way of establishing and bringing about peace is not our human way. We look to settle the score, to get our pound of flesh, to be ‘quits’ with our enemy.
So, is Christ such a great king? Yes he is, because he is the King over that which has no end and which, in the end, will prevail: Truth, Justice, Peace, Love, Joy, Patience, Wisdom and Goodness. He is the One to whom we can turn and rely upon in our every difficulty. His strength upholds us and his wisdom guides us. Despite being great and high above all things, he makes himself our best and most intimate of friends. As a people, though, we are still at odds with our King’s way of doing things, especially his way of bringing peace, and until all of humanity can look to Jesus as their King and to follow his lead, we shall remain a people divided and at war.
On Sunday November 21st the Church will be celebrating the Solemnity of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Universal King. This Solemnity marks the end of the liturgical year and is the culmination of all the events of a year which begins with Advent (when we prepare for the coming of the Saviour), moves through Christmas (when we celebrate the arrival of Jesus), then into Lent (the lead up to the death of Jesus) which we remember at Easter. The rest of the year is ‘Ordinary Time’, when we have the opportunity to look at the person of Jesus outside these very specific seasons.
When a child thinks of royalty he thinks of kings, queens, princes and princesses dripping with gold, a crown on their heads, with great authority and power over their people. Royal leaders haven't always been popular, in fact, many have exacted not only awe but also fear from their people and their kingdoms have been full of strife, their people divided and at war.
Jesus' Kingship goes against everything that this world thinks of as being worthy of the term 'king'. He came unannounced except to a few poor uneducated shepherds; he was born into very meagre circumstances; he became a refugee; he grew up in anonymity; he never had any money and finally died a humiliating death on a cross, accompanied by criminals. Jesus' kingship is so radical it could be hard to see him as a king. But a King he is.
Jesus of Nazareth is a King because in his love for his people, a love transcending any love this world has ever seen or will ever see again, he gave his life for his people. Indeed, not just for his people – the Jewish community – but for the whole of humanity. His resurrection and therefore authority of Life over death is ample demonstration that there is no higher authority. Jesus' kingdom transcends race, culture, border and status. It is a kingdom united, a kingdom of selfless love. It is a kingdom of mercy, peace and reconciliation, of healing and fulfilment. It is a kingdom where all are equal and equally loved. It is a kingdom where the only currency is love. It is a kingdom where everyone will find a home that acknowledges that the little boy born to a young virgin girl in a smelly, dirty, cold stable in Bethlehem is truly the Son of God and the long awaited Saviour of the entire human race.
One could be tempted to ask: if Jesus is such a great King, why is there still so much strife, terrorism and cruelty between people in the world? Has he no control over us?
Well, who are his people? His subjects are all the baptised. But the true knights of his Kingdom are those who know him as their King and who co-operate with him. Whilst his authority has been established in heaven and the power of Life has for ever overcome the power of death, his kingdom has yet to be established here, on earth, and he is looking for us to help him to achieve this. One of his gifts to mankind was that of freedom of choice. I have the choice, today, to accept Jesus as my King and to be his true and loyal subject by treating all people as my beloved brothers and sisters and worthy of the loving kindness which Jesus demands of me. These lines from the Our Father remind us of our own role in helping Jesus to create his Kingdom here on earth:
Thy Kingdom come;
Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
In other words, “May your Kingdom come to us, here on earth, soon; help me to carry out your will just as your will is carried out in heaven … then shall your kingdom be established upon our earth”.
We all know Holman Hunt’s picture of Jesus, standing and knocking at the door. This is a beautiful illustration of the nature of his kingship. He is not powering his way in and bludgeoning the inhabitants into accepting him. He is gently knocking at the door, asking permission to be given entry. His kingship therefore is as his birth: humble and gentle, and it is as he comes to us still: quietly and humbly in the form of bread and wine every time we celebrate the Eucharist. His kingship remains radical but compelling.
Whilst Jesus’ kingdom – heaven – is one of unadulterated peace and joy, earth is still a planet of unbridled division. “Do you suppose that I am here to bring peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division” (Luke 12:52) is the surprising and confusing assertion given by the Prince of Peace!
It is precisely because Jesus is the ‘Prince of Peace’ that there is such division in the world, because Jesus’ way of dealing with a quarrel or squabble was to offer the other cheek and this is something which, in our flawed humanity, we find so difficult. His way of establishing and bringing about peace is not our human way. We look to settle the score, to get our pound of flesh, to be ‘quits’ with our enemy.
So, is Christ such a great king? Yes he is, because he is the King over that which has no end and which, in the end, will prevail: Truth, Justice, Peace, Love, Joy, Patience, Wisdom and Goodness. He is the One to whom we can turn and rely upon in our every difficulty. His strength upholds us and his wisdom guides us. Despite being great and high above all things, he makes himself our best and most intimate of friends. As a people, though, we are still at odds with our King’s way of doing things, especially his way of bringing peace, and until all of humanity can look to Jesus as their King and to follow his lead, we shall remain a people divided and at war.
Friday, 1 October 2010
Early the next morning he went back to the Temple. All the people gathered round him, and he sat down and began to teach them. The teachers of the Law and the Pharisees brought in a woman who had been caught committing adultery, and they made her stand before them all. “Teacher” they said to Jesus, “This woman was caught in the very act of committing adultery. In our Law Moses commanded that such a woman must be stoned to death. Now, what do you say?” They said this to trap Jesus so that they could accuse him. But he bent over and wrote on the ground with his finger. As they stood there asking him questions, he straightened himself up and said to them, “Whichever one of you has committed no sin may throw the first stone at her.” Then he bent over again and wrote on the ground. When they heard this, they all left, one by one, the older ones first. Jesus was left alone, with the women still standing there. He straightened himself up and said to her, “Where are they? Is there no one left to condemn you? “No one, sir” she answered. “Well then” Jesus said, “I do not condemn you either. Go, but do not sin again”. John 8:1-11
The British press loves nothing better than to catch someone out, especially if it is a high profile politician caught in an extra-marital dalliance. It appears to delight in the public humiliation of its victim and the public responds with the usual baying for resignation, if not blood.
It is true that adultery is a very serious offence against God and against those whom adultery damages. Indeed, it was set in stone (literally!) as one of the Ten Commandments and, in terms of seriousness, is ranked only one lower than murder. In his Gospel, St Matthew refers to adultery as being worthy of eternal damnation (Matt 5:27)
This is why this passage is so important for illustrating to us the overwhelming power of God’s love and mercy. It is in this passage we learn the true meaning of “love covers over a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).
We can all relate to doing something (whatever that might be) which we know is wrong and which sits on our conscience. Unlike this poor woman it is unlikely that we will be publicly humiliated in front of a crowd and openly condemned for our personal weakness. It must have been a very frightening experience for her, as there was every danger that she was about to be stoned to death: the Pharisees and teachers of the Law were baying for her blood. There she stands, before the crowd and before Jesus, in all her shame. What does Jesus do? He bends down and writes something in the sand then, standing up, he gives permission for anyone present that is without sin to feel entirely free to throw the first stone at her. Knowing the holier-than-thou attitude of her accusers, she must have closed her eyes and held her breath, wondering from which direction she would be hit. Would it be her head … her back … her legs … her arms … which part of her would be bruised and cut first?
But, at that moment, the hearts and minds of all those gathered around are made aware of their own sin and shame and, in the presence of the One who sees into everyone’s thoughts and past, it was impossible for any one of them to throw that first stone. Each and every member of the crowd slinks away, starting with the eldest.
It is interesting that it was the eldest who left first: their years have seen an accumulation and amassing of not only regrettable thoughts, words and actions, but, hopefully, a slightly greater sensitivity and ability to acknowledge their own shame. Perhaps, for the individual members of the crowd it was a healing moment for them too – we shall never know.
As far as the woman is concerned, she knows very well that she has been doing wrong over many years. It would have been unthinkable for her not to have known the Law of Moses – she would have grown up with it. However, for whatever reason, and despite knowing that she was living very dangerously, she has found it impossible to change her behaviour.
In her encounter with Jesus she meets a man who is able to look over her life and recognise the events of her past which have made her into the person which she is now. Perhaps Jesus sees in the woman someone who has had a miserable childhood and whose search for love and affirmation has been overwhelming, causing her to fall into the arms of one unsuitable man after another. Perhaps he sees someone who has been in a deeply unhappy or even abusive marriage. The truth of her situation was as veiled from the crowd as it is from us …. but not from Jesus: he sees her loneliness, pain and brokenness and her quest for someone to love her sincerely and chastely.
Her quest for such a love ends in her encounter with Jesus. In Jesus the woman meets, probably for the first time, her perfect ‘lover’: someone who knows all about her past and background, her sadness and loneliness, her many partners and the wives and children she has hurt through her many adulterous relationships. Here is someone who accepts her and loves her for what and who she is. His love is perfect and unconditional, it is without judgement. It is not a love which is to be expressed in the physical and intimate outward expressions of love: it goes much deeper than that, and her healing is complete.
Most people came to Jesus of their own volition and found healing, but here was a woman who was forcibly brought before Jesus. I imagine that the knowledge that Jesus was in the area was probably reason enough for someone like her, doing what she was doing, to keep a low profile, and that Jesus was probably the last person she would want to meet. Perhaps this is something we can relate to at times: most of us have, on occasion, felt sufficiently ashamed or unworthy as to find it really hard to approach Jesus in prayer. In such moments I like to imagine that it is our Guardian Angels who drag us kicking and screaming back into the presence of Jesus where, of course, we find love, healing, forgiveness and peace.
So we leave the scene with Jesus having healed the woman’s past, but throwing in a final warning: “Go, but do not sin again”, a clear indication that he does not – and never will – condone her previous behaviour: the Law of Moses makes that impossible. But I am sure that this encounter with perfect love will have brought about a sufficient inner change to enable her to resist temptations in the future, and I like to think that she eventually finds herself in a permanent and loving relationship.
Some meditations:
Imagining that you are a member of the crowd …
· Do I take enough care to examine my own conscience before I start judging others?
· Do I secretly rejoice in another’s downfall, when I really should be saddened by it?
· Do I pray for someone who I know is in real moral danger?
· Can I play a greater part in the healing of someone’s past?
Imagining that you are the woman …
· What aspects of my life and behaviour stand in need of healing?
· I cannot hide my past from God – he knows everything
· I must never be too ashamed to approach Him, for he understands my faults and failures, and knows what has hurt me
· In my relationships with others, do I take care to ensure that my love is chaste and pure?
· “Neither do I condemn you” … I can trust God to be loving and merciful. But …
· Do I trust myself to “Go away and not sin again”?
· I can because I trust in the power of the Holy Spirit over my life
The British press loves nothing better than to catch someone out, especially if it is a high profile politician caught in an extra-marital dalliance. It appears to delight in the public humiliation of its victim and the public responds with the usual baying for resignation, if not blood.
It is true that adultery is a very serious offence against God and against those whom adultery damages. Indeed, it was set in stone (literally!) as one of the Ten Commandments and, in terms of seriousness, is ranked only one lower than murder. In his Gospel, St Matthew refers to adultery as being worthy of eternal damnation (Matt 5:27)
This is why this passage is so important for illustrating to us the overwhelming power of God’s love and mercy. It is in this passage we learn the true meaning of “love covers over a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).
We can all relate to doing something (whatever that might be) which we know is wrong and which sits on our conscience. Unlike this poor woman it is unlikely that we will be publicly humiliated in front of a crowd and openly condemned for our personal weakness. It must have been a very frightening experience for her, as there was every danger that she was about to be stoned to death: the Pharisees and teachers of the Law were baying for her blood. There she stands, before the crowd and before Jesus, in all her shame. What does Jesus do? He bends down and writes something in the sand then, standing up, he gives permission for anyone present that is without sin to feel entirely free to throw the first stone at her. Knowing the holier-than-thou attitude of her accusers, she must have closed her eyes and held her breath, wondering from which direction she would be hit. Would it be her head … her back … her legs … her arms … which part of her would be bruised and cut first?
But, at that moment, the hearts and minds of all those gathered around are made aware of their own sin and shame and, in the presence of the One who sees into everyone’s thoughts and past, it was impossible for any one of them to throw that first stone. Each and every member of the crowd slinks away, starting with the eldest.
It is interesting that it was the eldest who left first: their years have seen an accumulation and amassing of not only regrettable thoughts, words and actions, but, hopefully, a slightly greater sensitivity and ability to acknowledge their own shame. Perhaps, for the individual members of the crowd it was a healing moment for them too – we shall never know.
As far as the woman is concerned, she knows very well that she has been doing wrong over many years. It would have been unthinkable for her not to have known the Law of Moses – she would have grown up with it. However, for whatever reason, and despite knowing that she was living very dangerously, she has found it impossible to change her behaviour.
In her encounter with Jesus she meets a man who is able to look over her life and recognise the events of her past which have made her into the person which she is now. Perhaps Jesus sees in the woman someone who has had a miserable childhood and whose search for love and affirmation has been overwhelming, causing her to fall into the arms of one unsuitable man after another. Perhaps he sees someone who has been in a deeply unhappy or even abusive marriage. The truth of her situation was as veiled from the crowd as it is from us …. but not from Jesus: he sees her loneliness, pain and brokenness and her quest for someone to love her sincerely and chastely.
Her quest for such a love ends in her encounter with Jesus. In Jesus the woman meets, probably for the first time, her perfect ‘lover’: someone who knows all about her past and background, her sadness and loneliness, her many partners and the wives and children she has hurt through her many adulterous relationships. Here is someone who accepts her and loves her for what and who she is. His love is perfect and unconditional, it is without judgement. It is not a love which is to be expressed in the physical and intimate outward expressions of love: it goes much deeper than that, and her healing is complete.
Most people came to Jesus of their own volition and found healing, but here was a woman who was forcibly brought before Jesus. I imagine that the knowledge that Jesus was in the area was probably reason enough for someone like her, doing what she was doing, to keep a low profile, and that Jesus was probably the last person she would want to meet. Perhaps this is something we can relate to at times: most of us have, on occasion, felt sufficiently ashamed or unworthy as to find it really hard to approach Jesus in prayer. In such moments I like to imagine that it is our Guardian Angels who drag us kicking and screaming back into the presence of Jesus where, of course, we find love, healing, forgiveness and peace.
So we leave the scene with Jesus having healed the woman’s past, but throwing in a final warning: “Go, but do not sin again”, a clear indication that he does not – and never will – condone her previous behaviour: the Law of Moses makes that impossible. But I am sure that this encounter with perfect love will have brought about a sufficient inner change to enable her to resist temptations in the future, and I like to think that she eventually finds herself in a permanent and loving relationship.
Some meditations:
Imagining that you are a member of the crowd …
· Do I take enough care to examine my own conscience before I start judging others?
· Do I secretly rejoice in another’s downfall, when I really should be saddened by it?
· Do I pray for someone who I know is in real moral danger?
· Can I play a greater part in the healing of someone’s past?
Imagining that you are the woman …
· What aspects of my life and behaviour stand in need of healing?
· I cannot hide my past from God – he knows everything
· I must never be too ashamed to approach Him, for he understands my faults and failures, and knows what has hurt me
· In my relationships with others, do I take care to ensure that my love is chaste and pure?
· “Neither do I condemn you” … I can trust God to be loving and merciful. But …
· Do I trust myself to “Go away and not sin again”?
· I can because I trust in the power of the Holy Spirit over my life
Tuesday, 7 September 2010
Why are you so frightened?
Jesus got into a boat, and his disciples went with him. Suddenly a fierce storm hit the lake, and the boat was in danger of sinking. But Jesus was asleep. The disciples went to him and woke him up. “Save us, Lord!” they said. “We are about to die!” “Why are you so frightened?” Jesus answered, “How little faith you have!” Then he got up and ordered the winds and the waves to stop, and there was a great calm. Everyone was amazed. “What kind of man is this?” they said. “Even the winds and the waves obey him!” (Matt 7:23-27, Mark 4:35-41 and Luke 8:22-25)
Like all the Gospel stories, it is important to read this in two ways: firstly as a story which is literally true and, secondly, from a spiritual perspective, looking for what it is telling us about our own personal lives.
Accepting that the story is literally true, we can imagine Jesus and his disciples wading away from the hot dusty shore, through the warm still waters of the lake and clambering into the boat. Their plan had been to cross to the other side of the lake. However, their crossing soon became perilous as storm force winds grew, whipping up waves sufficient to overwhelm their small boat. We can imagine the scene of fear and helplessness. What is hard to imagine, though, is Jesus lying fast asleep with – as St Mark puts it – “his head on a pillow”. Whilst his disciples were at the end of their tether and filled with the fear of their impending drowning, Jesus was blissfully asleep, apparently completely unaware of the storm. One of his disciples wakes Jesus and berates him, “Don’t you care that we are about to drown?!” (Mark 4:38)
Jesus, of course, is not only omnipotent (all-powerful) but omniscient – he knows all things. He knows that his friends have not quite yet grasped who he is and that there is no way his Father would allow him and his friends to drown in a storm in a lake – his and their hour has not yet come.
Jesus’ response is not to leap up from his sleep and join in his friends’ wild panic. Indeed, even as the waves are crashing over the boat he is composed enough to challenge them, “Why are you so frightened?” Without waiting for their response, he stands up and, stretching his arm over the wild waves and into the ferocious winds, he commands them to “Be quiet!” …. “Be still!”
And there was great calm ....
Confirmation that the disciples have not yet understood the nature of Jesus comes when they exclaim “Who is this man …. Even the winds and waves obey him!”
Now, just close your eyes and imagine this scene for a moment: smell the damp air …. the wood of the boat … the sweat of the frightened men. Hear the straining and creaking of the stricken boat … the crashing of the waves and the scream of the wind as it rushes through the rigging … the cries and shouts of panic. Feel your wet hands clinging, white-knuckled, onto the rough rope … the wind tearing through your sodden clothes.
Now imagine the reality of the huge towering grey waves suddenly dying down, with the lake becoming flat and calm. Imagine the gale force winds reduced to a gentle whisper in a matter of seconds. Make these images real in your mind and truly wonder at the person of Jesus and what he is able to do. Above all, ask yourself what the meaning of this action is in your own personal life.
You can do this by reading this passage from a spiritual perspective, imagining that the boat is your life……
Like all working boats, your own boat – that is, your life – lives its life at the mercy of the wind and waves. Sometimes the sea is calm and the wind still, our problems feel a million miles away and all is well with us and our loved ones. However, we can all relate to the next part of the story, “Suddenly a fierce storm hit the lake, and the boat was in danger of sinking.” We are all, at times, hit by a problem or anxiety about something important in our lives, which throws our world into confusion and which threatens to overwhelm and, perhaps, even sink our boat. These times are frightening and exhausting, and we find ourselves regarding the future with a real apprehension.
We may even find ourselves, like the disciples, saying, “Doesn’t he know what is happening … doesn’t he care? … where is he when I most need him?”
The answer to the last question comes right at the start of the story, when we read that Jesus “got into the boat”. This is a reminder that Jesus entered our lives at our baptism and, just as he had no intention of abandoning his terror-struck disciples, he has no intention of abandoning us. Jesus is with us for good; he is present in every aspect of our lives, both the good and the bad.
Perhaps however, over the years, we have allowed Jesus to fall asleep in our lives. Do we lurch from one difficulty and problem to the next, trying to solve them all ourselves? Should we be asking ourselves,
- What is Jesus to me?
- Is he a real presence in my life?
- Could I learn, in times of trouble and distress, to turn to him just as the disciples did in their moment of distress and panic?
- Do I believe that Jesus really can calm the many storms in my life?
In this passage Jesus gives us an absolutely clear and unequivocal picture of what it means to turn to him in our hour of distress: he commanded the stilling of the storm and there was great calm. We would all like to live our lives in a spirit of great calm, able to deal with the many and varied things which challenge us and our sense of well-being.
However, it can be hard to let someone else take control of us and our life, especially when it is someone who remains veiled from us. But this is Jesus’ challenge to us: to allow him to calm our storms is to learn to say ‘yes’ to him. We need to learn to have faith in him as a person and in his way of doing things. “How little faith you have!” was his (rather exasperated) exclamation. The great thing about this part was that, despite their continuing lack of faith (and we can all relate to that too) he calmed the storm anyway.
Lord Jesus, I thank you for being with me and for all that is good in my life. Help me to know that you are with me in a special way when I feel threatened and overwhelmed by fear. Through the power of the Holy Spirit and in faith I will turn to you in the full knowledge that you will calm my every storm.
Like all the Gospel stories, it is important to read this in two ways: firstly as a story which is literally true and, secondly, from a spiritual perspective, looking for what it is telling us about our own personal lives.
Accepting that the story is literally true, we can imagine Jesus and his disciples wading away from the hot dusty shore, through the warm still waters of the lake and clambering into the boat. Their plan had been to cross to the other side of the lake. However, their crossing soon became perilous as storm force winds grew, whipping up waves sufficient to overwhelm their small boat. We can imagine the scene of fear and helplessness. What is hard to imagine, though, is Jesus lying fast asleep with – as St Mark puts it – “his head on a pillow”. Whilst his disciples were at the end of their tether and filled with the fear of their impending drowning, Jesus was blissfully asleep, apparently completely unaware of the storm. One of his disciples wakes Jesus and berates him, “Don’t you care that we are about to drown?!” (Mark 4:38)
Jesus, of course, is not only omnipotent (all-powerful) but omniscient – he knows all things. He knows that his friends have not quite yet grasped who he is and that there is no way his Father would allow him and his friends to drown in a storm in a lake – his and their hour has not yet come.
Jesus’ response is not to leap up from his sleep and join in his friends’ wild panic. Indeed, even as the waves are crashing over the boat he is composed enough to challenge them, “Why are you so frightened?” Without waiting for their response, he stands up and, stretching his arm over the wild waves and into the ferocious winds, he commands them to “Be quiet!” …. “Be still!”
And there was great calm ....
Confirmation that the disciples have not yet understood the nature of Jesus comes when they exclaim “Who is this man …. Even the winds and waves obey him!”
Now, just close your eyes and imagine this scene for a moment: smell the damp air …. the wood of the boat … the sweat of the frightened men. Hear the straining and creaking of the stricken boat … the crashing of the waves and the scream of the wind as it rushes through the rigging … the cries and shouts of panic. Feel your wet hands clinging, white-knuckled, onto the rough rope … the wind tearing through your sodden clothes.
Now imagine the reality of the huge towering grey waves suddenly dying down, with the lake becoming flat and calm. Imagine the gale force winds reduced to a gentle whisper in a matter of seconds. Make these images real in your mind and truly wonder at the person of Jesus and what he is able to do. Above all, ask yourself what the meaning of this action is in your own personal life.
You can do this by reading this passage from a spiritual perspective, imagining that the boat is your life……
Like all working boats, your own boat – that is, your life – lives its life at the mercy of the wind and waves. Sometimes the sea is calm and the wind still, our problems feel a million miles away and all is well with us and our loved ones. However, we can all relate to the next part of the story, “Suddenly a fierce storm hit the lake, and the boat was in danger of sinking.” We are all, at times, hit by a problem or anxiety about something important in our lives, which throws our world into confusion and which threatens to overwhelm and, perhaps, even sink our boat. These times are frightening and exhausting, and we find ourselves regarding the future with a real apprehension.
We may even find ourselves, like the disciples, saying, “Doesn’t he know what is happening … doesn’t he care? … where is he when I most need him?”
The answer to the last question comes right at the start of the story, when we read that Jesus “got into the boat”. This is a reminder that Jesus entered our lives at our baptism and, just as he had no intention of abandoning his terror-struck disciples, he has no intention of abandoning us. Jesus is with us for good; he is present in every aspect of our lives, both the good and the bad.
Perhaps however, over the years, we have allowed Jesus to fall asleep in our lives. Do we lurch from one difficulty and problem to the next, trying to solve them all ourselves? Should we be asking ourselves,
- What is Jesus to me?
- Is he a real presence in my life?
- Could I learn, in times of trouble and distress, to turn to him just as the disciples did in their moment of distress and panic?
- Do I believe that Jesus really can calm the many storms in my life?
In this passage Jesus gives us an absolutely clear and unequivocal picture of what it means to turn to him in our hour of distress: he commanded the stilling of the storm and there was great calm. We would all like to live our lives in a spirit of great calm, able to deal with the many and varied things which challenge us and our sense of well-being.
However, it can be hard to let someone else take control of us and our life, especially when it is someone who remains veiled from us. But this is Jesus’ challenge to us: to allow him to calm our storms is to learn to say ‘yes’ to him. We need to learn to have faith in him as a person and in his way of doing things. “How little faith you have!” was his (rather exasperated) exclamation. The great thing about this part was that, despite their continuing lack of faith (and we can all relate to that too) he calmed the storm anyway.
Lord Jesus, I thank you for being with me and for all that is good in my life. Help me to know that you are with me in a special way when I feel threatened and overwhelmed by fear. Through the power of the Holy Spirit and in faith I will turn to you in the full knowledge that you will calm my every storm.
Tuesday, 8 June 2010
As for you, little child ...
On 24th June the Church will be urging all its members to recall and celebrate the Birth of St John the Baptist. I guess that for many of us the birth and life of St John may seem very distant and not altogether relevant to our own lives.
So why does the Church place such emphasis on this particular birth, life and person?
John’s birth was something of a miracle: his mother Elizabeth was well past child-bearing age (probably in her 40’s which, in Biblical terms was old) and she did not expect to ever have a baby. However, John’s father Zechariah who was a very good man and scrupulous in his observance of God’s commandments, was told by the Angel Gabriel that his wife would become pregnant and that she would have a son whom they were to name “John”. The Angel told him that John would be filled with the Holy Spirit and would bring many back to God. Zechariah’s immediate reaction to this news was doubt and, as a punishment, he was struck dumb from that moment until it came to naming his child. The family assumed that the child would be named after someone in their family and were aghast that both Elizabeth and Zechariah insisted upon the name “John”, the name explicitly given to the boy by God himself. Zechariah, upon getting his speech back exclaimed: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God the Most High, you shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him. To make known to his people their healing, through the forgiveness of all their sins, the loving kindness of the heart of our God, who visits us like the dawn from on high. He will give light to those in darkness, those who dwell in the shadow of death, and guide us into the way of peace” Luke 1:76.
These beautiful words from a father to his new son indicate a profound and possibly new understanding of the nature of God and of the role that his own little boy would play in the understanding that the world in the future would have of God: a loving God who wishes for peace, reconciliation and healing for his people; a God who is prepared to send his only Son into the world in the full knowledge that, only through his torturous death and glorious resurrection the world may learn of his love. Indeed, when the time came for him to begin his work, John burst out upon the world - as Isaiah had foretold that he would (Is 40:3) - loudly proclaiming to all people the tender love of God and the urgent need for them to repent, to seek forgiveness and to find it in baptism.
John’s message to humanity both then and now is:
Be reconciled to God through his Son ... believe in Jesus!
The greatest longing of the human heart must be perfect peace and this can only come about once we are perfectly reconciled to God through our belief in, and imitation of, Jesus. What do we have to do to achieve this? We need to take a greater responsibility for knowing about and apologising for all those aspects of ourselves which fly in the face of the Christian ideal. People flocked to John, confessed their sins and were baptised into a new way of life: this is his call to us too: confess our sins and live a new life in the power of your baptism, a life based upon the Gospel values put so beautifully into practice by Jesus: values of love, mercy, forgiveness, faith, truth, goodness, generosity, kindness and humility.
Take responsibility yourself for making a path through the world in which you find yourself for Jesus, the One who wishes to use you to call people to himself.
We must never underestimate the value of our own role in preparing others to find and know God. If our thoughts, words and actions have their source in God and in His love, people with slowly come to associate our loving treatment of them with the love that God has for them. The value of our example, if it is a good and loving one, is priceless.
Don’t be afraid to speak out!
I am sure that most of us can relate to feeling a little embarrassed about openly talking about God and whatever faith we may have. Our faith and belief in God tend to remain private and which we prefer not to express in public. But Jesus warns us about not opening declaring for him that others may believe: “if anyone declares himself for me in the presence of men, I will declare myself for him in the presence of my Father in heaven. But the one who disowns me in the presence of men, I will disown in the presence of my Father in heaven” (Matt 10:32).
The Bible tells us nothing about Jesus’ relationship with John as they were boys growing up. Indeed, it seems unlikely that they had ever met (despite being cousins) prior to Jesus arriving on the banks of the River Jordon seeking baptism from John. Jesus, though, is very clear about how he felt about John: “I tell you solemnly, of all the children born to women, a greater than John has never been seen. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen!” (Matthew 11:11, 15)
John was a messenger
We may think that we are not living in the kind of wilderness that John found himself in. True, we are not living in a Middle Eastern desert, but we ARE living in a moral desert, a wilderness which has been brought about by society’s rejection of Christian values and beliefs, a society which proclaims the deeply pagan gods of money, fame, beauty, material possessions, power, etc. John’s call is as urgent today as it was then......
... turn away from sin and shame (Matt 3:2)
... share what you have with those who have nothing (Luke 3:11)
... practice truth and honesty (3:14)
... treat others well and be content with what God has given to you (Luke 3:14)
... believe in Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, the One who was and is to come (Matt 3:11, Mark 1:7, John 1:29-34)
So why does the Church place such emphasis on this particular birth, life and person?
John’s birth was something of a miracle: his mother Elizabeth was well past child-bearing age (probably in her 40’s which, in Biblical terms was old) and she did not expect to ever have a baby. However, John’s father Zechariah who was a very good man and scrupulous in his observance of God’s commandments, was told by the Angel Gabriel that his wife would become pregnant and that she would have a son whom they were to name “John”. The Angel told him that John would be filled with the Holy Spirit and would bring many back to God. Zechariah’s immediate reaction to this news was doubt and, as a punishment, he was struck dumb from that moment until it came to naming his child. The family assumed that the child would be named after someone in their family and were aghast that both Elizabeth and Zechariah insisted upon the name “John”, the name explicitly given to the boy by God himself. Zechariah, upon getting his speech back exclaimed: “As for you, little child, you shall be called a prophet of God the Most High, you shall go ahead of the Lord to prepare his ways before him. To make known to his people their healing, through the forgiveness of all their sins, the loving kindness of the heart of our God, who visits us like the dawn from on high. He will give light to those in darkness, those who dwell in the shadow of death, and guide us into the way of peace” Luke 1:76.
These beautiful words from a father to his new son indicate a profound and possibly new understanding of the nature of God and of the role that his own little boy would play in the understanding that the world in the future would have of God: a loving God who wishes for peace, reconciliation and healing for his people; a God who is prepared to send his only Son into the world in the full knowledge that, only through his torturous death and glorious resurrection the world may learn of his love. Indeed, when the time came for him to begin his work, John burst out upon the world - as Isaiah had foretold that he would (Is 40:3) - loudly proclaiming to all people the tender love of God and the urgent need for them to repent, to seek forgiveness and to find it in baptism.
John’s message to humanity both then and now is:
Be reconciled to God through his Son ... believe in Jesus!
The greatest longing of the human heart must be perfect peace and this can only come about once we are perfectly reconciled to God through our belief in, and imitation of, Jesus. What do we have to do to achieve this? We need to take a greater responsibility for knowing about and apologising for all those aspects of ourselves which fly in the face of the Christian ideal. People flocked to John, confessed their sins and were baptised into a new way of life: this is his call to us too: confess our sins and live a new life in the power of your baptism, a life based upon the Gospel values put so beautifully into practice by Jesus: values of love, mercy, forgiveness, faith, truth, goodness, generosity, kindness and humility.
Take responsibility yourself for making a path through the world in which you find yourself for Jesus, the One who wishes to use you to call people to himself.
We must never underestimate the value of our own role in preparing others to find and know God. If our thoughts, words and actions have their source in God and in His love, people with slowly come to associate our loving treatment of them with the love that God has for them. The value of our example, if it is a good and loving one, is priceless.
Don’t be afraid to speak out!
I am sure that most of us can relate to feeling a little embarrassed about openly talking about God and whatever faith we may have. Our faith and belief in God tend to remain private and which we prefer not to express in public. But Jesus warns us about not opening declaring for him that others may believe: “if anyone declares himself for me in the presence of men, I will declare myself for him in the presence of my Father in heaven. But the one who disowns me in the presence of men, I will disown in the presence of my Father in heaven” (Matt 10:32).
The Bible tells us nothing about Jesus’ relationship with John as they were boys growing up. Indeed, it seems unlikely that they had ever met (despite being cousins) prior to Jesus arriving on the banks of the River Jordon seeking baptism from John. Jesus, though, is very clear about how he felt about John: “I tell you solemnly, of all the children born to women, a greater than John has never been seen. If anyone has ears to hear, let him listen!” (Matthew 11:11, 15)
John was a messenger
We may think that we are not living in the kind of wilderness that John found himself in. True, we are not living in a Middle Eastern desert, but we ARE living in a moral desert, a wilderness which has been brought about by society’s rejection of Christian values and beliefs, a society which proclaims the deeply pagan gods of money, fame, beauty, material possessions, power, etc. John’s call is as urgent today as it was then......
... turn away from sin and shame (Matt 3:2)
... share what you have with those who have nothing (Luke 3:11)
... practice truth and honesty (3:14)
... treat others well and be content with what God has given to you (Luke 3:14)
... believe in Jesus, the Christ, the Messiah, the One who was and is to come (Matt 3:11, Mark 1:7, John 1:29-34)
Monday, 8 March 2010
God, have pity on me ...
Jesus told this parable to people who were sure of their own goodness and despised everybody else. “Once there were two men who went up to the Temple to pray: one was a Pharisee, the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood apart, by himself, and prayed, ‘I thank you, God, that I am not greedy, dishonest, or an adulterer, like everybody else. I thank you that I am not like that tax collector over there. I fast two days a week, and I give you a tenth of all my income.’ But the tax collector stood at a distance and would not even raise his face to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have pity on me, a sinner!’ “I tell you” said Jesus, “the tax collector, and not the Pharisee, was in the right with God when he went home. For all who make themselves great will be humbled, and all who humble themselves will be made great” (Luke 18:9-14)
The Pharisees get a great deal of bad press throughout the New Testament. They must have wondered what had hit them when Jesus came onto the scene because, before then, they were the top dogs, the people at right with God, at the top of the spiritual tree and whose authority was not to be questioned. In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus tells his disciples to, by all means if they wish, listen to the Pharisees but under no circumstances to emulate their behaviour. “They tie up heavy burdens and lay them on men’s shoulders, but will they lift a finger to move them? Not they! Everything they do is done to attract attention, like wearing broader phylacteries and longer tassels, like wanting to take the place of honour at banquets and the front seats in the synagogues, being greeting obsequiously in the market squares” (Matt 23:1-12)
Jesus, as we know, came amongst humanity to heal us and to restore us to God the Father. But there appears to be just one very particular section of society which regularly attracted his criticism and which remained stubbornly untouched by his ministry: the Pharisees. The only fault of the Pharisees was to have become blind to their faults and therefore self-satisfied. All faiths and churches need laws and leaders otherwise there is chaos. But the Pharisees had become so very sure of their worth and of their goodness, that they were completely blinded to the natural flawedness of their own humanity and to the possibility that they, too, were sinners and in need of God’s mercy. Such was their blindness that they were incapable of seeing anything but the faults in others, such as the tax collector who, for sure, would have had a reputation for dishonesty and embezzlement at a time when tax collectors were guilty of these things.
In this Gospel passage we are presented with two very distinct people: the self-satisfied Pharisee and the humble tax collector. I wouldn’t mind hazarding a guess that we can probably relate to both.
We are all vulnerable to becoming a little like the Pharisee when we lose sight of the ways in which we stand in need of God’s mercy. How easy it is to think that, because I am not a terrorist, a murderer or a thief that I am somehow more worthy of God’s kingdom than those who are so sincerely damaged as to have apparently put themselves outside of the love of God.
The Pharisee had lost his sense of reality - he could not see himself as God or others saw him. To see ourselves in the stark light of God's Truth is terribly important, for without the Truth we too are blind. We cannot learn the truth about ourselves without looking long and hard at God who is perfect beyond all our wildest imaginings. He is perfect Love. He is perfect Truth. He is perfect Kindness. He is perfect Generosity. He is perfect Compassion. Of course, when we hold ourselves up against such a person as God, we are bound to be humbled and ashamed by the truth about ourselves.
In comparing myself to God I will see the thousand ways in which, like the Pharisee, I am greedy and self-satisfied and in which I judge others; my eyes will be opened to the times without number when I have thought, said or acted in ways which were contrary to the perfect and unconditional love of God.
I am therefore a sinner – it doesn’t matter to what degree I am a sinner … the fact remains that I AM A SINNER. Indeed, if I were to imagine myself to be standing shoulder to shoulder with, say, a murderer, I cannot say that I am in any more or less need of God’s healing mercy because I am quite simply in need of his mercy. It could even be said that I am no closer to or further from God than anyone else for we are ALL close to God by dint of the fact that He is close to us.
This passage is a warning to us to make sure that we try to align ourselves more closely with the tax collector, the sinner. This is the man who should draw us into this passage, for this is the man who is inviting us to be more aware of the areas of our life which stand in need of God’s healing mercy. He tells us not only to be aware of our shortcomings but actively and sincerely sorry for them. We are to stand with him, and humbly present ourselves before God and ask for his merciful love and forgiveness and healing in our lives. What can we do except to turn to the words of the psalmist and say, from the bottom of our hearts …
Have mercy on me, God, in your kindness.
In your compassion blot out my offence.
O wash me more and more from my guilt
and cleanse me from my sin.
My offences, truly, I know them;
my sin is always before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned;
what is evil in your sight I have done …..
(Ps 50/51)
The tax collector ‘stood at a distance’ such was his sense of personal sin and shame. Well, we may too, in our own sense of sin and shame, find ourselves standing at a distance, too ashamed to even look into our Saviour’s face, and that is no bad thing: that is an important moment for us. However, it is not perhaps as important as the moment in which we move on, called as we are to trust in the Lord’s love for us and in his desire that we should have a greater intimacy with him, and Jesus gives us the opportunity for that greater intimacy in the sacrament of the Eucharist in which he makes himself fully present to us. Jesus, our healer, our great lover; Jesus who sees right into our hearts and who knows us and understands us better than we know or understand ourselves. Jesus, who, the minute we recognise our need of him and are able to sincerely confess our guilt and our shame, will pour his grace into our hearts so that we, like the tax collector, can head for home at rights with God.
The Pharisees get a great deal of bad press throughout the New Testament. They must have wondered what had hit them when Jesus came onto the scene because, before then, they were the top dogs, the people at right with God, at the top of the spiritual tree and whose authority was not to be questioned. In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus tells his disciples to, by all means if they wish, listen to the Pharisees but under no circumstances to emulate their behaviour. “They tie up heavy burdens and lay them on men’s shoulders, but will they lift a finger to move them? Not they! Everything they do is done to attract attention, like wearing broader phylacteries and longer tassels, like wanting to take the place of honour at banquets and the front seats in the synagogues, being greeting obsequiously in the market squares” (Matt 23:1-12)
Jesus, as we know, came amongst humanity to heal us and to restore us to God the Father. But there appears to be just one very particular section of society which regularly attracted his criticism and which remained stubbornly untouched by his ministry: the Pharisees. The only fault of the Pharisees was to have become blind to their faults and therefore self-satisfied. All faiths and churches need laws and leaders otherwise there is chaos. But the Pharisees had become so very sure of their worth and of their goodness, that they were completely blinded to the natural flawedness of their own humanity and to the possibility that they, too, were sinners and in need of God’s mercy. Such was their blindness that they were incapable of seeing anything but the faults in others, such as the tax collector who, for sure, would have had a reputation for dishonesty and embezzlement at a time when tax collectors were guilty of these things.
In this Gospel passage we are presented with two very distinct people: the self-satisfied Pharisee and the humble tax collector. I wouldn’t mind hazarding a guess that we can probably relate to both.
We are all vulnerable to becoming a little like the Pharisee when we lose sight of the ways in which we stand in need of God’s mercy. How easy it is to think that, because I am not a terrorist, a murderer or a thief that I am somehow more worthy of God’s kingdom than those who are so sincerely damaged as to have apparently put themselves outside of the love of God.
The Pharisee had lost his sense of reality - he could not see himself as God or others saw him. To see ourselves in the stark light of God's Truth is terribly important, for without the Truth we too are blind. We cannot learn the truth about ourselves without looking long and hard at God who is perfect beyond all our wildest imaginings. He is perfect Love. He is perfect Truth. He is perfect Kindness. He is perfect Generosity. He is perfect Compassion. Of course, when we hold ourselves up against such a person as God, we are bound to be humbled and ashamed by the truth about ourselves.
In comparing myself to God I will see the thousand ways in which, like the Pharisee, I am greedy and self-satisfied and in which I judge others; my eyes will be opened to the times without number when I have thought, said or acted in ways which were contrary to the perfect and unconditional love of God.
I am therefore a sinner – it doesn’t matter to what degree I am a sinner … the fact remains that I AM A SINNER. Indeed, if I were to imagine myself to be standing shoulder to shoulder with, say, a murderer, I cannot say that I am in any more or less need of God’s healing mercy because I am quite simply in need of his mercy. It could even be said that I am no closer to or further from God than anyone else for we are ALL close to God by dint of the fact that He is close to us.
This passage is a warning to us to make sure that we try to align ourselves more closely with the tax collector, the sinner. This is the man who should draw us into this passage, for this is the man who is inviting us to be more aware of the areas of our life which stand in need of God’s healing mercy. He tells us not only to be aware of our shortcomings but actively and sincerely sorry for them. We are to stand with him, and humbly present ourselves before God and ask for his merciful love and forgiveness and healing in our lives. What can we do except to turn to the words of the psalmist and say, from the bottom of our hearts …
Have mercy on me, God, in your kindness.
In your compassion blot out my offence.
O wash me more and more from my guilt
and cleanse me from my sin.
My offences, truly, I know them;
my sin is always before me.
Against you, you alone, have I sinned;
what is evil in your sight I have done …..
(Ps 50/51)
The tax collector ‘stood at a distance’ such was his sense of personal sin and shame. Well, we may too, in our own sense of sin and shame, find ourselves standing at a distance, too ashamed to even look into our Saviour’s face, and that is no bad thing: that is an important moment for us. However, it is not perhaps as important as the moment in which we move on, called as we are to trust in the Lord’s love for us and in his desire that we should have a greater intimacy with him, and Jesus gives us the opportunity for that greater intimacy in the sacrament of the Eucharist in which he makes himself fully present to us. Jesus, our healer, our great lover; Jesus who sees right into our hearts and who knows us and understands us better than we know or understand ourselves. Jesus, who, the minute we recognise our need of him and are able to sincerely confess our guilt and our shame, will pour his grace into our hearts so that we, like the tax collector, can head for home at rights with God.
Sunday, 31 January 2010
Lent ... what is the point?
I'll bet that at the very mention of the word 'Lent' most of us heave an inward groan. I wouldn't mind betting also that most of us try to give something up without really understanding the reasoning or logic behind it.
It might help if we were to look at two things:
- what the actual word 'Lent' means, and
- what the Church itself has to say
‘Lent’ … what does it mean?
The word 'lent' means 'springtime'. The seasons are deeply important to our spiritual life: just as nature needs a time of death and renewal so do we. For nature, the season of winter brings about a time of retreat and 'death' in order to make way for the wonderful new life that burgeons out in springtime. In just the same way our spirit needs a time of searching, of learning to 'die' to self and of repentance in order to bring about a new life, a life more open to the boundless possibilities of a life lived through the Spirit. It is always so exciting to see the first green tips of daffodil bulbs poking through the cold February soil, and it seems almost miraculous that, tucked away, deep down, is the potential for a big and perfect yellow daffodil. We need to see our spiritual lives in the same light - our full spiritual flowering will come about only when we have been brave enough - with God's help - to learn to say 'no' to ourselves and to our, possibly, self-centred ways. And that is where the Church's guidance on Lent comes in.
What does the Church say?
During the first three centuries most Christians prepared for Easter by fasting for only two to three days. In some places this was extended to the entire week before Easter. Eventually this developed into the 40-day period that we now know as Lent. It is no coincidence that Lent lasts for 40 days: this was the amount of time that Jesus spent in the desert prior to putting into full practice what His Father had sent him into the world to do. Lent is our opportunity to join Jesus in the desert in order that we, too, might emerge from the desert, freshly invigorated and empowered to carry out his work. Jesus' time of retreat empowered him to take up his ministry, and our time of retreat will do the same for us. This period, which he spent in the desert, was crucial: the springtime which flowered from it brought about astonishing feats of healing and holiness for those around him. The time he spent in the desert brought him closer to his Father and to a greater awareness of what work he had ahead of him. We need to enter into that desert too in order for ourselves to come closer to God and to arrive at a better understanding of what he wants us to do. It makes sense to me that if we want to follow Jesus through death and into eternal life, then we must try and follow him through life - his life.
The Church therefore emphasises Lent as being primarily a time of discipline and penitence.
The point of giving things up or challenging ourselves in some other (possibly physically) way is that, if one can discipline the body, there is every chance that we can learn to discipline that which is far more important to discipline: the mind. Without discipline of mind, humanity is liable to run wild, sometimes with devastating consequences.
Just as discipline is important for our salvation, so is penitence. To be penitent is to grieve, mourn, sorrow over and regret all that we have done which has come between us and God. I have a suspicion that, just as the word 'penitence' has gone out of fashion, so has the word 'sin', and society may have lost sight of what sin is and therefore what we really should be grieving and mourning over. On a personal level we should be grieving over our untruths, the unkind thoughts we have about others, the nature of our gossip, our pride, greed, vanity, our cynicism, our idolisation of material goods, impatience and so on. On a collective level, we should be grieving over the millions of unborn babies which are killed each year, our willingness to condone sexual immorality, our part in the enslavement of underpaid third-world workers, international greed and misuse of power, our slowness to act or speak out against the extraordinary cruelty of child trafficking (often into prostitution) and so so much else. There is a veritable mountain of things to feel sorry about, and Ash Wednesday is the point at which we can try to make some sort of a start.
What is the significance of the ashes on Ash Wednesday?
Ashes have strong biblical associations with repentance. When Jonah took his warning to the dissolute people of Nineveh that unless they changed their ways and repented then God would bring destruction upon them, he found them to have a ready ear. Their much-respected leader saw the error of their ways and led them in putting on sack-cloth and ashes as a sign of repentance. It is something of a relief that we don't have to go about in sack-cloth for the duration of Lent, but as the priest puts the ashes on our foreheads he will use one of two phrases:
"Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel", indicating our need to think carefully about our lifestyle and attitude to God, OR
"Remember, man, that you are dust and to dust you will return", in which we are reminded of our own mortality and the fact that we will, at some point in the future unknown to us, have to face our Maker and give an account of our lives
Lent is a great opportunity!
Lent, above all, is an opportunity to GROW. We need to GROW in our knowledge and therefore our love of God; we need to GROW in our knowledge of ourselves and - importantly - our faults. Our knowledge of God will increase if we take time to read the Gospels and if we give time over to prayer every day. Our knowledge of ourselves will increase as we grow in our knowledge of God. In order to see ourselves as God sees us, and therefore to grow in the knowledge of ourselves, there are some questions that we need to be asking ourselves …
Do I judge or criticise others?
Do I ever say anything that could damage another’s reputation?
Do I talk about others behind their back?
Am I compassionate when someone is suffering?
Am I helpful and considerate?
Do I tell untruths?
Am I ever unkind in thought, word or action?
Do I forgive those who have hurt me?
Do I idolise the famous because they are glamorous & rich?
Am I overly concerned with the way I look?
Do I make enough effort to understand the other point of view?
Am I impatient?
Do I want things to go my way all the time?
Do I condemn others who don't agree with me?
How much time do I spend thinking of myself?
Am I ungenerous with my time and possessions?
Am I ever envious of other people's things?
Do I try to trust in God, particularly in difficult circumstances?
Do I remember to give adequate thanks to God?
Do I try to keep Sunday special?
God of Wisdom be in my head and in my understanding
God who created all things be in my eyes and in my seeing
God of Truth be in my ears and in my hearing
God of Gentleness be in my mouth and in my speaking
God of Compassion and Love be in my heart and in my thinking
God of Mercy and Forgiveness be at my end and at my departing
It might help if we were to look at two things:
- what the actual word 'Lent' means, and
- what the Church itself has to say
‘Lent’ … what does it mean?
The word 'lent' means 'springtime'. The seasons are deeply important to our spiritual life: just as nature needs a time of death and renewal so do we. For nature, the season of winter brings about a time of retreat and 'death' in order to make way for the wonderful new life that burgeons out in springtime. In just the same way our spirit needs a time of searching, of learning to 'die' to self and of repentance in order to bring about a new life, a life more open to the boundless possibilities of a life lived through the Spirit. It is always so exciting to see the first green tips of daffodil bulbs poking through the cold February soil, and it seems almost miraculous that, tucked away, deep down, is the potential for a big and perfect yellow daffodil. We need to see our spiritual lives in the same light - our full spiritual flowering will come about only when we have been brave enough - with God's help - to learn to say 'no' to ourselves and to our, possibly, self-centred ways. And that is where the Church's guidance on Lent comes in.
What does the Church say?
During the first three centuries most Christians prepared for Easter by fasting for only two to three days. In some places this was extended to the entire week before Easter. Eventually this developed into the 40-day period that we now know as Lent. It is no coincidence that Lent lasts for 40 days: this was the amount of time that Jesus spent in the desert prior to putting into full practice what His Father had sent him into the world to do. Lent is our opportunity to join Jesus in the desert in order that we, too, might emerge from the desert, freshly invigorated and empowered to carry out his work. Jesus' time of retreat empowered him to take up his ministry, and our time of retreat will do the same for us. This period, which he spent in the desert, was crucial: the springtime which flowered from it brought about astonishing feats of healing and holiness for those around him. The time he spent in the desert brought him closer to his Father and to a greater awareness of what work he had ahead of him. We need to enter into that desert too in order for ourselves to come closer to God and to arrive at a better understanding of what he wants us to do. It makes sense to me that if we want to follow Jesus through death and into eternal life, then we must try and follow him through life - his life.
The Church therefore emphasises Lent as being primarily a time of discipline and penitence.
The point of giving things up or challenging ourselves in some other (possibly physically) way is that, if one can discipline the body, there is every chance that we can learn to discipline that which is far more important to discipline: the mind. Without discipline of mind, humanity is liable to run wild, sometimes with devastating consequences.
Just as discipline is important for our salvation, so is penitence. To be penitent is to grieve, mourn, sorrow over and regret all that we have done which has come between us and God. I have a suspicion that, just as the word 'penitence' has gone out of fashion, so has the word 'sin', and society may have lost sight of what sin is and therefore what we really should be grieving and mourning over. On a personal level we should be grieving over our untruths, the unkind thoughts we have about others, the nature of our gossip, our pride, greed, vanity, our cynicism, our idolisation of material goods, impatience and so on. On a collective level, we should be grieving over the millions of unborn babies which are killed each year, our willingness to condone sexual immorality, our part in the enslavement of underpaid third-world workers, international greed and misuse of power, our slowness to act or speak out against the extraordinary cruelty of child trafficking (often into prostitution) and so so much else. There is a veritable mountain of things to feel sorry about, and Ash Wednesday is the point at which we can try to make some sort of a start.
What is the significance of the ashes on Ash Wednesday?
Ashes have strong biblical associations with repentance. When Jonah took his warning to the dissolute people of Nineveh that unless they changed their ways and repented then God would bring destruction upon them, he found them to have a ready ear. Their much-respected leader saw the error of their ways and led them in putting on sack-cloth and ashes as a sign of repentance. It is something of a relief that we don't have to go about in sack-cloth for the duration of Lent, but as the priest puts the ashes on our foreheads he will use one of two phrases:
"Turn away from sin and be faithful to the gospel", indicating our need to think carefully about our lifestyle and attitude to God, OR
"Remember, man, that you are dust and to dust you will return", in which we are reminded of our own mortality and the fact that we will, at some point in the future unknown to us, have to face our Maker and give an account of our lives
Lent is a great opportunity!
Lent, above all, is an opportunity to GROW. We need to GROW in our knowledge and therefore our love of God; we need to GROW in our knowledge of ourselves and - importantly - our faults. Our knowledge of God will increase if we take time to read the Gospels and if we give time over to prayer every day. Our knowledge of ourselves will increase as we grow in our knowledge of God. In order to see ourselves as God sees us, and therefore to grow in the knowledge of ourselves, there are some questions that we need to be asking ourselves …
Do I judge or criticise others?
Do I ever say anything that could damage another’s reputation?
Do I talk about others behind their back?
Am I compassionate when someone is suffering?
Am I helpful and considerate?
Do I tell untruths?
Am I ever unkind in thought, word or action?
Do I forgive those who have hurt me?
Do I idolise the famous because they are glamorous & rich?
Am I overly concerned with the way I look?
Do I make enough effort to understand the other point of view?
Am I impatient?
Do I want things to go my way all the time?
Do I condemn others who don't agree with me?
How much time do I spend thinking of myself?
Am I ungenerous with my time and possessions?
Am I ever envious of other people's things?
Do I try to trust in God, particularly in difficult circumstances?
Do I remember to give adequate thanks to God?
Do I try to keep Sunday special?
God of Wisdom be in my head and in my understanding
God who created all things be in my eyes and in my seeing
God of Truth be in my ears and in my hearing
God of Gentleness be in my mouth and in my speaking
God of Compassion and Love be in my heart and in my thinking
God of Mercy and Forgiveness be at my end and at my departing
Thursday, 14 January 2010
Send forth your light
One evening, as I was reading the prayers of Evening Prayer from the Divine Office, one of the prayers really leapt out at me and caught my imagination. It went, “Lord, may your cross light up the darkness of the world:- may it lead everyone to you, the way, the truth and the life.”
Outside, it was the inevitable evening gloom typical of late winter, and I was stopped in my tracks, pondering the many forms of darkness and what form of ‘darkness’, particularly, to which this prayer was referring. My mind ran to all things physically dark: the moonless night, dark caves, the great depths of the ocean, unlit rooms and so forth. It seemed to me that these types of darkness are part of the created and natural world and, as such, are expressions of God and cannot, therefore, ever be thought of as evilly dark or the sort of darkness which has to be overcome.
If natural darkness is the work of God, then it stands to reason that the only true ‘darkness’, i.e. the darkness which is evil and is to be overcome, must therefore be the darkness of sin. Given that all things sinful and evil emanate from the heart, then the darkness of the night and of every black recess which exists upon this earth and in the entire universe cannot compare – in terms of darkness – to that which we find in our hearts when we think, say or do something which runs directly against God’s law of Love. All the evil and awful things of which humanity is capable are a direct result of what is in the heart: there cannot, therefore, be anywhere quite as dark as that of a human heart intent upon evil.
Jesus tells us very clearly that, “The things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and it is these that make a man unclean. For from the heart come evil intentions: murder, adultery, fornication, theft, perjury, slander. These are the things that make a man unclean” (Matt 15:18-19)
Our inner darkness takes many shapes and forms but, at its centre, are all those qualities which are the opposite of all that God is. If God is perfect tolerance, patience, peace, joy, truth, forgiveness, gentleness, humility, trust and love, then to be living out our lives in a state of – for instance – impatience, anger, untruth, pride, inability to forgive, selfishness, fear, and so on, is to live in darkness, and it is this darkness which has to be dispelled and overcome. In other words, we are to overcome our darkness by allowing the light of all that is Good, (i.e. God) to radiate into our hearts.
Both the Old and the New Testaments are full of references to the light as being directly linked to God. The psalmist begs of God to “Send forth your light and your truth, let them guide me; let them bring me to your holy mountain, to the place where you dwell” (Ps 43:2-4); because he knows that “Even in darkness, light dawns for the upright, for the gracious and compassionate and righteous man” (Ps 112:4).
The psalmist goes on to tell us that God is the source of all light when he tells us that, “Blessed are those who walk in the light of your presence, O Lord” (Ps 89:15) and that it is in the perfect light of God, a light which searches our hearts, that we will be measured and judged in our turn, for “You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence” (Ps 90:8). Later on in the Old Testament the prophet Isaiah foretells a time when “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.” (Is 9:2), and that God “will turn the darkness before them into light” (Is 42:16)
The darkness referred to in the Old Testament is the darkness created by man due to his original disobedience towards God and the resulting expulsion from heaven. In the days of the Old Testament those who died went to ‘hell’, not the hell of our understanding, but a place nevertheless of darkness and marked by what must have been a dreadful absence of light and of God. Jesus’ death and resurrection was to overturn all of that: the gates to the underworld and to heaven were unlocked so that humanity could for ever avail itself of the unending mercy of God and a future spent in the light of his presence.
The darkness, therefore, of the New Testament and of our present day, is the darkness of sin from which humanity finds it so difficult to be free. Jesus tells us that, “Though the light has come into the world men have shown that they prefer darkness to the light because their deeds were evil. And indeed, everyone who does wrong hates the light and avoids it, for fear his actions should be exposed; but the man who lives by the truth comes out into the light, so that it may be plainly seen that what he does is done in God.” (John 3:19-21)
Therefore, if true darkness resides only in the human heart, then it is in the human heart alone that the ight of the cross must cast its radiance. Isaiah referred to Jesus himself as being the Light to light up the world. This light, through the power of the Holy Spirit, remains available to all who turn to him, and it is this light which enables us to be, in our turn, the light of Jesus in an otherwise dark world. When we turn to Jesus he pours light into our heart to enable us to play our own part in lighting up the world. We are to carry on the work of Jesus and of his original followers in carrying the torch which has been handed down, over the centuries, from one generation of believers to the next. But how am I to do this? How am I to dispel the darkness of my heart that I can be a person of light? How can the cross of Jesus, such a symbol of pain, torture and death, cast light into the darkness of my heart?
Well, as I write this now, looking forward to Lent and to Easter, we will soon be rejoicing in the fact that the cross, which will stand empty on Golgotha (it apparently having done its work in dispatching once and for all the Christ), will no longer be a symbol of death, but of Life. The cross, previously a symbol of fear, shame and death no longer has any power whatsoever over mankind: it has been made redundant for all time. We have been liberated to live in the light of the risen Jesus who calls us into his light. We can be absorbed into that light by, firstly, facing up to all that we have thought, said or done which has damaged our relationship with God and with others and by sincerely apologising. We can be further absorbed into Jesus’ light if we can, in the words of St Paul, “Fill your mind with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honour, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise.” (Phil 4:8).
Let us, therefore, open our hearts to all that is good and honest and truthful, whilst at the same time taking every possible care to reject all that is base and which runs contrary to love. Let us reject gossip, untruths, anger and impatience; let us turn away from our every ungenerous thought or reaction; let us overcome our pride by reminding ourselves how much we owe to God and that we could never fully repay him for his relentless goodness to us; let us open our hearts more fully to those around us who lack even the basic essentials for life. Let our lives, in other words, be governed by a desire for all that is Good
Outside, it was the inevitable evening gloom typical of late winter, and I was stopped in my tracks, pondering the many forms of darkness and what form of ‘darkness’, particularly, to which this prayer was referring. My mind ran to all things physically dark: the moonless night, dark caves, the great depths of the ocean, unlit rooms and so forth. It seemed to me that these types of darkness are part of the created and natural world and, as such, are expressions of God and cannot, therefore, ever be thought of as evilly dark or the sort of darkness which has to be overcome.
If natural darkness is the work of God, then it stands to reason that the only true ‘darkness’, i.e. the darkness which is evil and is to be overcome, must therefore be the darkness of sin. Given that all things sinful and evil emanate from the heart, then the darkness of the night and of every black recess which exists upon this earth and in the entire universe cannot compare – in terms of darkness – to that which we find in our hearts when we think, say or do something which runs directly against God’s law of Love. All the evil and awful things of which humanity is capable are a direct result of what is in the heart: there cannot, therefore, be anywhere quite as dark as that of a human heart intent upon evil.
Jesus tells us very clearly that, “The things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and it is these that make a man unclean. For from the heart come evil intentions: murder, adultery, fornication, theft, perjury, slander. These are the things that make a man unclean” (Matt 15:18-19)
Our inner darkness takes many shapes and forms but, at its centre, are all those qualities which are the opposite of all that God is. If God is perfect tolerance, patience, peace, joy, truth, forgiveness, gentleness, humility, trust and love, then to be living out our lives in a state of – for instance – impatience, anger, untruth, pride, inability to forgive, selfishness, fear, and so on, is to live in darkness, and it is this darkness which has to be dispelled and overcome. In other words, we are to overcome our darkness by allowing the light of all that is Good, (i.e. God) to radiate into our hearts.
Both the Old and the New Testaments are full of references to the light as being directly linked to God. The psalmist begs of God to “Send forth your light and your truth, let them guide me; let them bring me to your holy mountain, to the place where you dwell” (Ps 43:2-4); because he knows that “Even in darkness, light dawns for the upright, for the gracious and compassionate and righteous man” (Ps 112:4).
The psalmist goes on to tell us that God is the source of all light when he tells us that, “Blessed are those who walk in the light of your presence, O Lord” (Ps 89:15) and that it is in the perfect light of God, a light which searches our hearts, that we will be measured and judged in our turn, for “You have set our iniquities before you, our secret sins in the light of your presence” (Ps 90:8). Later on in the Old Testament the prophet Isaiah foretells a time when “The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.” (Is 9:2), and that God “will turn the darkness before them into light” (Is 42:16)
The darkness referred to in the Old Testament is the darkness created by man due to his original disobedience towards God and the resulting expulsion from heaven. In the days of the Old Testament those who died went to ‘hell’, not the hell of our understanding, but a place nevertheless of darkness and marked by what must have been a dreadful absence of light and of God. Jesus’ death and resurrection was to overturn all of that: the gates to the underworld and to heaven were unlocked so that humanity could for ever avail itself of the unending mercy of God and a future spent in the light of his presence.
The darkness, therefore, of the New Testament and of our present day, is the darkness of sin from which humanity finds it so difficult to be free. Jesus tells us that, “Though the light has come into the world men have shown that they prefer darkness to the light because their deeds were evil. And indeed, everyone who does wrong hates the light and avoids it, for fear his actions should be exposed; but the man who lives by the truth comes out into the light, so that it may be plainly seen that what he does is done in God.” (John 3:19-21)
Therefore, if true darkness resides only in the human heart, then it is in the human heart alone that the ight of the cross must cast its radiance. Isaiah referred to Jesus himself as being the Light to light up the world. This light, through the power of the Holy Spirit, remains available to all who turn to him, and it is this light which enables us to be, in our turn, the light of Jesus in an otherwise dark world. When we turn to Jesus he pours light into our heart to enable us to play our own part in lighting up the world. We are to carry on the work of Jesus and of his original followers in carrying the torch which has been handed down, over the centuries, from one generation of believers to the next. But how am I to do this? How am I to dispel the darkness of my heart that I can be a person of light? How can the cross of Jesus, such a symbol of pain, torture and death, cast light into the darkness of my heart?
Well, as I write this now, looking forward to Lent and to Easter, we will soon be rejoicing in the fact that the cross, which will stand empty on Golgotha (it apparently having done its work in dispatching once and for all the Christ), will no longer be a symbol of death, but of Life. The cross, previously a symbol of fear, shame and death no longer has any power whatsoever over mankind: it has been made redundant for all time. We have been liberated to live in the light of the risen Jesus who calls us into his light. We can be absorbed into that light by, firstly, facing up to all that we have thought, said or done which has damaged our relationship with God and with others and by sincerely apologising. We can be further absorbed into Jesus’ light if we can, in the words of St Paul, “Fill your mind with everything that is true, everything that is noble, everything that is good and pure, everything that we love and honour, and everything that can be thought virtuous or worthy of praise.” (Phil 4:8).
Let us, therefore, open our hearts to all that is good and honest and truthful, whilst at the same time taking every possible care to reject all that is base and which runs contrary to love. Let us reject gossip, untruths, anger and impatience; let us turn away from our every ungenerous thought or reaction; let us overcome our pride by reminding ourselves how much we owe to God and that we could never fully repay him for his relentless goodness to us; let us open our hearts more fully to those around us who lack even the basic essentials for life. Let our lives, in other words, be governed by a desire for all that is Good
Tuesday, 5 January 2010
Peace ...
Peace ….. what a lovely word that is and how appealing is the whole idea of peace: personal inner peace, peace in our families, peace in our community and, ultimately, peace across the world. The desire for and love of peace are deeply embedded into the lives of every human being, so it is extraordinary that, given this desire, humanity has been singularly poor at establishing it.
Why is there so little peace? One of the primary reasons must be because individuals are not at peace within themselves. In order to establish world peace, we need to work backwards: from the world to community, from community to family, from family to the individual.
Have you ever noticed how a peaceful person radiates peace in such a way that it is catching? It seems to me that if we want to be part of a peace-making process, we need to take responsibility for finding peace within ourselves in order to allow that peace to radiate out and affect those around us. It is like a ripple effect: a peaceful person encourages peace in another, and another and another. St Francis loved to greet people with the words "The Lord give you peace!" and he told his followers, "When you proclaim peace by your words, you must also carry an even greater peace in your hearts. Let no one be provoked to anger by you, or be scandalised, but let your gentleness encourage all men to peace, good will and mutual love".
What causes us to lack or lose peace?
There are many reasons why we lack peace. For many - in fact, for most of us - it may be a hurt we are carrying around with us, something that we are finding hard to forgive or understand. It would be true to say that I don't know anyone who has not been damaged to some degree: that is part of the human condition. It would be worth remembering that God is passionate about us in our humanity. He knows who has damaged us, how they have damaged us and, most importantly, how to heal us.
Many of us find it hard to be at peace with ourselves because we have not yet learned to love ourselves as God wishes that we would. God would want us to be happy with the way he has made us, warts and all. He would want us to be grateful to him for our very being and for the gifts that he has - and hasn't - seen fit to give us. Sadly, we live in a culture which encourages us to find fault with the way we look, with the way we do things, with the way we do our house up and so much more.
When Jesus tells Lazarus to come out from his tomb and then releases him from his death shrouds, he is also taking the opportunity of saying to us: I want you to be free, I want you to be free from all that separates you from my peace.
What is separating us from this peace that Jesus wants us to have?
- are we inclined to be quick-tempered?
- are we harsh with others in our thoughts and words?
- do we judge and criticise those around us?
- do we fear criticism of ourselves?
- are we greedy?
- are we fearful and anxious?
- are we quick to argue without taking the trouble to see the other point of view?
- are we slow to forgive?
Despite all of these things: our natural flaws and insecurities; our sadnesses and general damage, Jesus would still tell us - you can be at peace, it is what I want for you!
In the Mass, just after we have said the 'Our Father' and we have the very person of Jesus right there, with us, on the sanctuary, I am always reminded of Jesus' first appearance amongst his friends after he had died. What were his first words? They were quite simply "Peace be with you". "Peace be with you…. I leave you peace, my peace I give you". I do urge you to spend time pondering these words which were not just addressed to his friends at that time, but to you and me. “I want you to be at peace, I will give it to you, I have the means of giving it to you. Turn to me and find peace.”
Peace is within our reach.
A truly peaceful person is someone who is at peace with themselves, others and God. At the heart of that peace is forgiveness, forgiveness of ourselves (the hardest part), forgiveness of others (not easy either) and God's forgiveness of us.
As we examine ourselves we need to be as gentle with ourselves as God is with us. If we turn to him he would lead us….
- into a life of patience and gentleness
- into a way of dealing with people without judging or criticising them
- to a humility and freedom where we won't mind what people think of us or say about us
- to a gratitude for all that we have which will free us from greed
- to a loving trust of him which will put to free us from all our fears and anxieties
In a mind that is full of Love and Wisdom, there is no room for either fear or ignorance;
In a mind that is full of Patience and Humility, there is no room for either anger or annoyance;
In a mind that full of Poverty and Joy, there is no room for either avarice or cupidity;
In a mind that is full of Peace and Contemplation, there is no room for either worry or restlessness;
In a mind that is full of Mercy and Prudence, there is no room for either harshness or excess;
Where there is the fear of God to guard the dwelling, there no enemy can enter.
(Adapted from St Francis' verse of Virtue & Vice)
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