Christ the King

We come to the end of our year with Luke’s account of the gospel truth. We don’t finish on a glorious note, however, despite the church declaring that this Sunday is the Feast of Christ the King. Instead we finish on the lowest moment in Jesus’ ministry, the most painful and despairing time, as Jesus hangs from the cross in shame and agony for simply being himself.

All the hope that Jesus had inspired in his followers, fades away, as he labours over his final breaths. The soldiers cast lots gambling for his clothes, they mock him and offer him sour wine; the people stand by, watching, this horrific spectator sport; the leaders continue to scoff him, taunting him to save himself; and a sign above his head declares that he is the King of the Jews, a sign that no-one believes to be true.

One of the criminals hanging alongside him joins in with the taunting, wasting his breath in frustration, perhaps, that the ‘king’ he is hanging alongside has no power to save either of them. Another criminal, another ‘dead man hanging’ chooses to use his breath and his words differently. This man sees something different in Jesus, in his last moments of life and in his death. In his reflection he sees himself as the man rightly convicted of a crime and deserving his punishment, and yet he reaches out in hope, even at the eleventh hour.

Jesus, remember when you come into your kingdom.

Luke 23:42

We have the same choices to make today as did those who shared that space in history with Jesus. We can choose to gamble away all hope in Jesus, we can walk away in despair, we can mock him and taunt him, we can blame him for not rescuing us from the things we have done wrong. Or we can choose to reach out, recognising that we have done wrong and deserved to be punished, but hoping instead for mercy.

St Paul wrote to the church at Colossae urging them to remain strong in times of persecution, and that they are inheritors in Christ’s Kingdom. That they have been ‘redeemed’, had their sins forgiven just as the prisoner who hung from a cross next to Jesus, also found freedom and forgiveness.

And this is all lovely: a personal invitation to join the Kingdom of Christ, as renewed people, restored and forgiven and treated as royal family. Christ’s kingdom is so much more than a heavenly family, a regal crown; Christ’s kingdom is one which incorporates the whole of creation, is not divided by state boundaries, or overwhelmed by dominions or powers. Jesus is the king of all. It just doesn’t feel like it.

Often we can feel more like the mocking criminal, if Jesus is the king of all why doesn’t he save us? Why doesn’t he return and retrieve his throne from corrupt and immoral leaders, why doesn’t he stake his claim over the dominions of sickness and evil?

When Jesus died, he didn’t just sleep for a few days before returning victorious. Jesus went into the depths of death, and hallowed it. Jesus made even the darkest most fearful places holy, and brought hope and life where none was ever expected again. Jesus won the war between life and death, but battles still rage on. We are invited to be a part of those final battles knowing that the ultimate war is over, and that we are on the winning side, we belong to the Kingdom that overcame death, we belong to Christ.

We are challenged, and these are indeed challenging times, to act like the second criminal who hung with Jesus, and not to speak out of anger or spite or fear, but to seek Christ’s kingdom, even when everything seems lost. And when we have times of sorrow, despair, or doubt, we can hang on to those words that Jesus spoke to his fellow condemned man,

Truly today you will be with me in Paradise.

Luke 23:43

Read Luke’s account here, read Paul’s letter here.

Read Mark and Inwardly Digest: The Passion

There are many traditions and customs for Palm Sunday: Processing to church from a central point in the parish waving palms high and singing; travelling with a donkey to church; retelling the story of the Triumphal Entrance; reading together the whole Passion Narrative…

Mark 14, 15

 

The Plot to Kill Jesus

14It was two days before the Passover and the festival of Unleavened Bread. The chief priests and the scribes were looking for a way to arrest Jesus by stealth and kill him; ²for they said,

 Not during the festival, or there may be a riot among the people.

The Anointing at Bethany

3 While he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he sat at the table, a woman came with an alabaster jar of very costly ointment of nard, and she broke open the jar and poured the ointment on his head.⁴But some were there who said to one another in anger,

Why was the ointment wasted in this way?

⁵For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii, and the money given to the poor.

And they scolded her.

Jesus: Let her alone; why do you trouble her? She has performed a good service for me. ⁷For you always have the poor with you, and you can show kindness to them whenever you wish; but you will not always have me. ⁸She has done what she could; she has anointed my body beforehand for its burial. ⁹Truly I tell you, wherever the good news is proclaimed in the whole world, what she has done will be told in remembrance of her.

Knowingly or not everyone seems to be part of the conspiracy against Jesus: His enemies plot against him, his friend complies, and the woman anoints him for death.

How do our actions engage with the plot against Jesus?

Note that Mark doesn’t identify the woman, she is totally anonymous: other gospel writers identify her as Mary of Bethany or as a sinful woman, assumed to be Mary Magdalene. The outcast here is Simon the (former) leper, the reprehensible roles are played by men who criticise and scold her generosity, and of course Judas who is about to betray Jesus. 

It is easier to point the finger than face our own failings; is there anything we need to ‘come clean’ about, first to ourselves and then to God?

Those who see the ointment as ‘wasted’ have actually wasted their opportunity of coming close to Jesus in presence and worship. The woman gives all she has and does all she can as Jesus (and Judas and his enemies) prepare for death.

How do we experience ‘extravagant worship’: something to enter into wholeheartedly or something rather indecorous and un-British? Is our worship pleasing to God?

Judas Agrees to Betray Jesus

10 Then Judas Iscariot, who was one of the twelve, went to the chief priests in order to betray him to them. ¹¹When they heard it, they were greatly pleased, and promised to give him money. So he began to look for an opportunity to betray him.

Judas is finally tempted to turn informer. What was it that made him yield: money, anger, frustration?

What makes us vulnerable in our relationship with Jesus?

The Passover with the Disciples

12 On the first day of Unleavened Bread, when the Passover lamb is sacrificed, his disciples said to him,

Where do you want us to go and make the preparations for you to eat the Passover?’ 

¹³So he sent two of his disciples, saying to them,

Jesus: Go into the city, and a man carrying a jar of water will meet you; follow him, ¹⁴and wherever he enters, say to the owner of the house, “The Teacher asks, Where is my guest room where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?” ¹⁵He will show you a large room upstairs, furnished and ready. Make preparations for us there.’ 

¹⁶So the disciples set out and went to the city, and found everything as he had told them; and they prepared the Passover meal.

Jesus is a good Jewish Son and keeps all the rituals and festivals. It was also common for Rabbis to celebrate Passover with their disciples.

Which rituals and festivals are important in our faith?

Date and time are important in Mark’s account: Jesus dies during the feast of liberation.

What can Jesus’ death liberate us from? What is chaining us down that we long to be freed from?

17 When it was evening, he came with the twelve. ¹⁸And when they had taken their places and were eating, Jesus said,

Jesus: Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me. 

¹⁹They began to be distressed and to say to him one after another,

Surely, not I?

 Jesus; It is one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the bowl with me. ²¹For the Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It would have been better for that one not to have been born.

Date and time are important in Mark’s account: Jesus dies during the feast of liberation.

What can Jesus’ death liberate us from? What is chaining us down that we long to be freed from?

Mark’s Passion account is characterised by the failures of his friends: they betray him, deny him and abandon him. Jesus’ words here evoke Psalm 42:9 Even my bosom friend in whom I trusted, who ate of my bread, has lifted his heal against me.

Each disciple checks their own motives and actions: Have they betrayed Jesus? Lent is a time for us to do so also – is there anything we need to put right? Nothing can be as bad as Judas’ betrayal.

In Mark’s account Judas does not leave the meal. Is he therefore included in the promises and new covenant?

The Institution of the Lord’s Supper

22 While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them,

Jesus: Take; this is my body.

 ²³Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. ²⁴

Jesus: This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many. ²⁵Truly I tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.

God is blessed not the bread, not the wine; blessing exists in the giving thanks.  What do we have to be thankful for? Do we bring our thanks to the Communion Table?

Mark refers to a ‘cup’ and not ‘wine’: the cup of suffering, of death that Jesus offers to James and John when they seek status in the kingdom and that Jesus will struggle to ‘drink’ in the Garden of Gethsemane (10:38-39, and 14:23-24). It also brings to mind the cup of salvation of Psalm 23, and takes us back to the cup of the Covenant in Exodus 24:3-8, but this cup brings a new covenant.

The hymn is likely to have been Psalm 118 traditionally sung at the end of Passover at the final blessing. It looks beyond the present to future victory v17 I shall not die, but I shall live and recount the deeds of the Lord.

Peter’s Denial Foretold

26 When they had sung the hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.²⁷And Jesus said to them,

Jesus: You will all become deserters; for it is written,

“I will strike the shepherd,
and the sheep will be scattered.”
²⁸But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.

Peter: Even though all become deserters, I will not.

Jesus: Truly I tell you, this day, this very night, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.

Peter: Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.

And all of them said the same.

Mark now focuses on the disciples’ abandonment of Jesus: Jesus quotes Zechariah 13:7-9, but adds to it the promise to go before them like a shepherd leading his flock.

Peter is first to pledge faithfulness under fire, but all disciples agree. Nobody likes to think that their friendship can fail, but words are easier than actions. Have we found ourselves in similar situations with friends or even with our faith and relationship with Jesus?

Jesus Prays in Gethsemane

32 They went to a place called Gethsemane; and he said to his disciples,

Jesus: Sit here while I pray.

³³He took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be distressed and agitated. ³⁴And he said to them,

Jesus: I am deeply grieved, even to death; remain here, and keep awake.

³⁵And going a little farther, he threw himself on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him.

Jesus: Abba, Father, for you all things are possible; remove this cup from me; yet, not what I want, but what you want.

³⁷He came and found them sleeping; and he said to Peter,

Jesus: Simon, are you asleep? Could you t keep awake one hour? ³⁸Keep awake not keep awake one hour? Keep awake and pray that you may not come into the time of trial; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.

³⁹And again he went away and prayed, saying the same words. ⁴⁰And once more he came and found them sleeping, for their eyes were very heavy; and they did not know what to say to him. ⁴¹He came a third time and said to them,

Jesus: Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? Enough! The hour has come; the Son of Man is betrayed into the hands of sinners. ⁴²Get up, let us be going. See, my betrayer is at hand.

Jesus’ closest disciples already abandon him by falling asleep when he needs their prayers. Jesus no longer refers to Peter as the rock, but reverts to ‘Simon’. Why? What does that signify?

Jesus has no desire to die: he does not face death serenely, he does not seek martyrdom. Jesus is however faithful and obedient, unlike the sleeping disciples.

The Greek word eggizo is used in v42 is also used in 1:15 The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God has come near. The fulfilment of Jesus’ earthly mission is upon him. Through these darkest of hours God’s Kingdom is made known. Judas’ betrayal and God’s reign are synchronised.

The Betrayal and Arrest of Jesus

43 Immediately, while he was still speaking, Judas, one of the twelve, arrived; and with him there was a crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests, the scribes, and the elders. ⁴⁴Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying,

Judas: The one I will kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.

⁴⁵So when he came, he went up to him at once and said,

Judas: Rabbi!

and kissed him. ⁴⁶Then they laid hands on him and arrested him. ⁴⁷But one of those who stood near drew his sword and struck the slave of the high priest, cutting off his ear. ⁴⁸

Jesus: Have you come out with swords and clubs to arrest me as though I were a bandit? ⁴⁹Day after day I was with you in the temple teaching, and you did not arrest me. But let the scriptures be fulfilled.

⁵⁰All of them deserted him and fled.

51 A certain young man was following him, wearing nothing but a linen cloth. They caught hold of him, ⁵²but he left the linen cloth and ran off naked.

The quietness of night is shattered by the arrival of the mob. Peter, James and John have let Jesus down through their lack of action; Judas takes definite steps to betray him. The betrayal is made worse by the way that it is actioned – a kiss of friendship, of brotherly love, brings about Jesus’ arrest and death. His greeting ‘Rabbi’ suggests obedience and respect, not disloyalty and betrayal. 

The proximity of the disciple who draws his sword would suggest that it was one of the disciples who Jesus had taken with him to pray and had fallen asleep. Is this action is a pathetic attempt to regain some dignity after being caught dozing? How do we try to cover our weaknesses? In the end even this bravado fails, and all abandon Jesus.

Who is the young man? Some suggest it was Mark himself as it only appears in his account. Others that this naked stranger personifies abandonment as Judas personifies betrayal and Peter will personify denial.

Is there a ‘naked vulnerability’ in our own failings in our relationship with God which we would usually seek to keep covered?

 

Jesus before the Council

53 They took Jesus to the high priest; and all the chief priests, the elders, and the scribes were assembled. ⁵⁴Peter had followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest; and he was sitting with the guards, warming himself at the fire. ⁵⁵Now the chief priests and the whole council were looking for testimony against Jesus to put him to death; but they found none. ⁵⁶For many gave false testimony against him, and their testimony did not agree. ⁵⁷Some stood up and gave false testimony against him, saying, ⁵⁸

We heard him say, “I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.”

⁵⁹But even on this point their testimony did not agree. ⁶⁰Then the high priest stood up before them and asked Jesus,

Have you no answer? What is it that they testify against you?

⁶¹But he was silent and did not answer. Again the high priest asked him,

Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed One?

Jesus: I am; and “you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of the Power”, and “coming with the clouds of heaven.” 
⁶³Then the high priest tore his clothes,

Why do we still need witnesses? ⁶⁴You have heard his blasphemy! What is your decision?’

All of them condemned him as deserving death. ⁶⁵Some began to spit on him, to blindfold him, and to strike him, saying to him,

Prophesy!

The guards also took him over and beat him.

The Council takes place in the Sanhedrin – the highest council of Judaism. It is an ‘official’ court and trial (indicated by language used, witness, testimony, condemned but also procedure followed – the need for two witnesses), however it is ‘irregular’ in that the verdict is pre-determined and evidence is false.

Accusation 1: Jesus threatened to destroy the Temple. Jesus did speak about the Temple being destroyed – in Mark this is indicated in the ‘cursing of the fig tree’ 11:1-14, 20-25, but in John it is more explicit, Destroy this Temple and in three days I will raise it up 2:19 Jesus does not claim that he will destroy the temple, rather that he will rebuild it.

Accusation 2:  Blasphemy (claiming to be the Messiah, Son of God). Although Jesus doesn’t respond to the first accusation, he does to this one. The words ‘I am’ are not just a confession of the charges against him, but a theophanic statement. When Moses met God at the burning bush and asked his name, God replied ‘I AM WHO I AM’ Exodus 3:14

Peter Denies Jesus

66 While Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant-girls of the high priest came by. ⁶⁷When she saw Peter warming himself, she stared at him and said,

You also were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth.

⁶⁸But he denied it,

Peter: I do not know or understand what you are talking about.

And he went out into the forecourt. Then the cock crowed.⁶⁹And the servant-girl, on seeing him, began again to say to the bystanders,

This man is one of them.

⁷⁰But again he denied it. Then after a little while the bystanders again said to Peter, ‘

Certainly you are one of them.

for you are a Galilean.

⁷¹But he began to curse, and he swore an oath,

Peter: I do not know this man you are talking about.

⁷²At that moment the cock crowed for the second time. Then Peter remembered that Jesus had said to him,

Jesus: Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.

And he broke down and wept.

Mark gifts Peter’s story of failure to his readers. His first readers face heavy persecution and many like Peter would deny following Jesus when faced with death.

Having faith and being willing to share it is one thing in a liberal country, but how would any of us have fared if we were in Peter’s shoes, or even in the shoes of Christians nowadays living in very conservative countries where Christianity is a crime?

Peter never speaks out against Jesus, but he doesn’t speak for him either. He claims ignorance; he distances himself from the other disciples; and finally curses himself. In trying to protect himself from mortal danger he faces divine punishment.

In the court and surrounding yards, Jesus exemplifies courage and Peter cowardice. Do any of us know how truly brave we are until we are tested?

Jesus before Pilate

15As soon as it was morning, the chief priests held a consultation with the elders and scribes and the whole council. They bound Jesus, led him away, and handed him over to Pilate. ²Pilate asked him,

Pilate: Are you the King of the Jews?

Jesus: You say so.

³Then the chief priests accused him of many things.

Pilate: Have you no answer? See how many charges they bring against you.

⁵But Jesus made no further reply, so that Pilate was amazed.

Once Jesus has been tried by the Jews he is tried by the Gentiles. Pilate is not concerned about religion or blasphemy; he is concerned about a pretender to the throne causing political upheaval and threatening his own standing.

Mark focuses on this one question, Jesus’ true identity, despite many charges being made against him.

Pilate Hands Jesus over to Be Crucified

6 Now at the festival he used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked. ⁷Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection. ⁸So the crowd came and began to ask Pilate to do for them according to his custom.

Pilate: Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?

¹⁰For he realized that it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over. ¹¹But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release Barabbas for them instead.

Pilate: Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews? ¹³

They shouted back,

Everyone: Crucify him!

Pilate: Why, what evil has he done?

But they shouted all the more,

Everyone: Crucify him!

¹⁵So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified.

In Mark it is the crowd who ask Pilate to release a prisoner. Here is the chance to allow justice to reign and have the innocent man released, but they too choose to condemn Jesus.

Why choose Barabbas a convicted murderer? Was he a resistance leader fighting against Roman occupation: A Jewish hero? 

Pilate, aware of the religious leaders’ jealousy, appears not to want to play their games. He may also have balked at releasing a ‘rebel’. 

It is the religious leaders, the chief priests, who stir up the crowd. Does this then mean that the crowd are guiltless of calling for the death of Jesus?

Do we also have a role in calling ‘crucify him’?  Have our actions betrayed, denied or abandoned our faith at any time?

The flogging of Jesus prior to crucifixion was Roman custom. It also fulfils Jesus’ passion prediction of 10:33-34.

The Soldiers Mock Jesus

16 Then the soldiers led him into the courtyard of the palace (that is, the governor’s headquarters); and they called together the whole cohort.¹⁷And they clothed him in a purple cloak; and after twisting some thorns into a crown, they put it on him. ¹⁸And they began saluting him,

Hail, King of the Jews!

¹⁹They struck his head with a reed, spat upon him, and knelt down in homage to him. ²⁰After mocking him, they stripped him of the purple cloak and put his own clothes on him. Then they led him out to crucify him.

Jesus was mocked by the Jewish leaders, here he is mocked by the Roman soldiers, and on the cross he will be mocked by those who watch.

The face of Christ, marred with spittle and blows, has restored to us that image which sin had corrupted, indeed destroyed. [Calvin]

You know the insults I receive, and my shame and dishonour; my foes are all known to you. Insults have broken my heart, so that I am in despair. I looked for pity but there was none; and for comforters, but I found none. They gave me poison for food, and for my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink. Psalm 69

The Crucifixion of Jesus

21 They compelled a passer-by, who was coming in from the country, to carry his cross; it was Simon of Cyrene, the father of Alexander and Rufus. ²²Then they brought Jesus to the place called Golgotha (which means the place of a skull). ²³And they offered him wine mixed with myrrh; but he did not take it. ²⁴And they crucified him, and divided his clothes among them, casting lots to decide what each should take.

25 It was nine o’clock in the morning when they crucified him. ²⁶The inscription of the charge against him read,

Pilate: The King of the Jews.

²⁷And with him they crucified two bandits, one on his right and one on his left.²⁹Those who passed by derided him, shaking their heads and saying

Aha! You who would destroy the temple and build it in three days, save yourself, and come down from the cross!

³¹In the same way the chief priests, along with the scribes, were also mocking him among themselves and saying,

He saved others; he cannot save himself. 

Let the Messiah, the King of Israel, come down from the cross now, so that we may see and believe.

Those who were crucified with him also taunted him.

My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

But I am a worm, and not human; scorned by others, and despised by the people. All who see me mock at me, they shake their heads…I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my hearts is like wax; it is melted within my breast;       Psalm 22

He was despised and rejected by others; a man of suffering and acquainted with infirmity; and as one from whom others hide their faces he was despised and we held him of no account. Surely he has borne our infirmities and carried our diseases; Yet we accounted him stricken, struck down by God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the punishment that made us whole, and by his bruises we are healed. Isaiah 53

The Death of Jesus

33 When it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. ³⁴At three o’clock Jesus cried out with a loud voice,

Jesus: Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani? My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ 

³⁵When some of the bystanders heard it, they said,

Listen, he is calling for Elijah.

³⁶And someone ran, filled a sponge with sour wine, put it on a stick, and gave it to him to drink, saying,

Wait, let us see whether Elijah will come to take him down.

³⁷Then Jesus gave a loud cry and breathed his last. ³⁸And the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. ³⁹Now when the centurion, who stood facing him, saw that in this way he breathed his last, he said,

Truly this man was God’s Son!

Jesus has been betrayed and abandoned by his closest friends; even his Father has forsaken him. Jesus is totally alone on the cross and in complete despair. 

The temple curtain separated the holy of holies from mere, sinful, humanity. As Jesus dies, the curtain is torn, from top to bottom, from heaven to earth, removing the barrier between God and his people.

Peter denies Jesus, but the centurion declares Jesus’ true identity. 

40 There were also women looking on from a distance; among them were Mary Magdalene, and Mary the mother of James the younger and of Joses, and Salome. ⁴¹These used to follow him and provided for him when he was in Galilee; and there were many other women who had come up with him to Jerusalem.

As they had done in his life, the women continue to provide for Jesus in his death. There is little they can do except be there for him, but it is more than his disciples are able to. 

Jesus has died alone and yet his death is witnessed by many. Legally two witnesses were required; here we have not just the women whose statement would not have been recognised, but the centurion in the employ of the Roman army, and Joseph, a respected member of the Jewish Council.

The Burial of Jesus

42 When evening had come, and since it was the day of Preparation, that is, the day before the Sabbath, ⁴³Joseph of Arimathea, a respected member of the council, who was also himself waiting expectantly for the kingdom of God, went boldly to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus.⁴⁴Then Pilate wondered if he were already dead; and summoning the centurion, he asked him whether he had been dead for some time.⁴⁵When he learned from the centurion that he was dead, he granted the body to Joseph. ⁴⁶Then Joseph bought a linen cloth, and taking down the body, wrapped it in the linen cloth, and laid it in a tomb that had been hewn out of the rock. He then rolled a stone against the door of the tomb. ⁴⁷Mary Magdalene and Mary the mother of Joses saw where the body was laid.

Jesus has died, and he is buried in a tomb that is sealed. The Rabbi and his teachings are dead. Jesus’ life and all it stood for have come to an end…

Mark presents the crucifixion of Jesus as the paradoxical enthronement and coronation of the suffering King of the Jews. This Gospel points to Jesus on his cross and says, “God is like that.” [Williamson Jnr]

 

The text says little but evokes much…artists are sometimes the best expositors of Scripture.

Interpretation: Mark, Lamar Williamson Jnr

 

Lord Jesus Christ,

          We remember today how you were betrayed,

abandoned,

denied,

your disciples’ commitment evaporating as the heat was turned on.

We come, conscious that our faith is likewise flawed and frail,

strong enough when little is asked of us

but vulnerable if put to the test.

          Remind us, however, that you went to the cross knowing our weakness,

ready to die for us despite our faults.

          In that knowledge we come now –

humble,

thankful,

joyful.

          Receive our praise.

 

Before we Begin, Nick Fawcett

Mothering Sunday: the Pain and the Grief

Half way through Lent the Church of England celebrates Mothering Sunday. The rest of the UK celebrates Mothers’ Day – a day to spoil and say thank you to mum, but the church celebrates something different. Mothering Sunday is also known as Refreshment Sunday and is a day when the Lenten fast can be well and truly broken. It brought relief for those in service and industry who were allowed to return home to their ‘Mother Church’, the church in which they were baptised, Christened,  and most probably the parish in which their own mum still lived. So the two have easily overlapped for centuries. Then, flowers may have been picked from the wayside on the journey home, now, churches provide posies for children to give to their mothers and indeed any woman present in church on that Sunday.

No matter how inclusive we try to make Mothering Sunday in church, though, it is still a Sunday brimming with pain for many. For those who were brought up without a mother, for those whose mothers may be working away from home (it’s not just dads who serve in the armed forces), for those whose mother has recently died, for those who are struggling to conceive or have lost a child, or have passed the age of child birth….

Mass marketing means that Mothers’ Day is impossible to avoid, and church isn’t a sanctuary from the saccharine tat fest either. But perhaps it has always been like that?

Our gospel reading, reminds us that we are in the heart of lent, half way through our journey to the cross, to the ultimate place of pain and suffering, not just for Jesus, but for those who loved him too.

While four soldiers share Jesus’ clothes, four women share his suffering. One his mother and another his aunt. One of them may have woven he seamless garment.

Andrew Knowles

At the foot of the cross we have four women who are vulnerable, and for whom ‘motherhood’ has been a burden of sorrow. Mary has known since her son was a tiny infant in her arms that her heart would be pierced with grief. She has watched him as he has grown, she has had to let him go so many times, and now she watches as he is murdered a slow and tortuous death and she can do nothing to alleviate his pain.

His mother’s sister, Jesus’ aunt, we believe to be Salome, the mother of James and John, who has also had to let her sons go as she watched them leave the family business, abandoning their father, in order to follow Jesus. Now she has to release her youngest to become Mary’s son. She watches on as her nephew dies, knowing that this fate could also lay in store for her sons should they continue to follow Jesus’ teaching after his death.

Mary, the wife of Clopas, seems not have any children of her own. She is not alone in the world, her husband is still alive, and she is known by his name, but she may have seen in Jesus the son she never had – pure speculation, but what would it feel to see an ‘adopted’ son, one you have lavished the love you could not lavish on a child of your own, go through such agony? What depths of emptiness and loss meet each other, as the one who had brought healing to some of that grief, is snatched from you?

And then we have Mary Magdalene, a single woman of whom much was forgiven. We can safely assume that this Mary was single and childless – perhaps the future still had some hope for a family for her, but with a chequered history, and with each year passing, the opportunities grow dim.

This Mothering Sunday we are brought to the foot of the cross, we are brought to the pain and suffering of Jesus. We are brought into the company of a woman who’s first born son is dying, a woman whose nephew asks her to give up her ‘baby’ boy to her sister, a married woman who has never conceived, and a woman who has never been given the opportunity to marry and have children. For each of these women, the words, ‘Happy Mother’s Day’ will mean nothing but pain and suffering.

But we are not gathered together in church to celebrate motherhood. We are gathered to celebrate togetherness, to celebrate family, and  ‘mother’ is the church into which we were all baptised. In these global days, it may not be possible to return to the actual building in which we were baptised into God’s family – for my family that would mean returning to four different parts of the country – but we are still one family. Jesus told Mary that from now on John would become her son with all the responsibilities that would involve in his culture; and John was told to treat Mary as his mother, and he responded by giving her a home. Perhaps the true meaning of Mothering Sunday can be found in this small act of love and compassion from a dying man? Mothering Sunday is not about spoiling and adoring our mothers (although we all need some appreciation and affirmation from time to time), but is rather about looking out for each other, and ensuring that every member of our family of faith has some one who loves them, and a place they can feel at home in.

Something to watch:

Something to think about:

• Can you remembering celebrating Mothers’ Day/Mothering Sunday as a child?
• What does it mean to you know?
• How can we take Jesus act of love from the cross and apply it to our church family?

Something to pray:

At last, in site of all, a recognition,

For those who loved and laboured for so long,

Who brought us through that labour, to fruition

To flourish in the place where we belong.

A thanks to those who stayed and did the raising,

Who buckled down and did the work of two,

Whom governments have mocked instead of praising,

Who hid their heart-break and still struggled through,

The single mothers forced onto the edge

Whose work the world overlooked, neglected,

Invisible to  wealth and privilege,

But in whose lives the kingdom is reflected.

Now into Christ our mother church we bring them,

Who shares with them the birth-pangs of His Kingdom.

Malcolm Guite

God’s Mighty Women: At the Foot of the Cross

Not quite at the foot of the cross, but looking on from a distance, were a group of women supporting each other in their time of need. This is what women do (when we’re at our best), sticking together, being there for each other through thick and thin, not turning away when the going gets tough. Maybe when a child is in danger, a child dies, only another mother can even venture to understand.

Near the cross is Jesus’ mother. She has been treasuring words, prophecies, moments since before Jesus was born: she always knew that one day her heart would be pierced. And now that day has come. Mary stays until the bitter end, how could she not, and yet to watch her firstborn tortured to a slow and agonising death must have torn her apart in so many ways.

With her, and maybe they are with Mary rather than with Jesus, are Mary’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas and Mary Magdalene. Other accounts place John there, the beloved disciple, Jesus’ younger cousin, and perhaps he is there for Jesus? It is he Jesus turns to in concern for his mother. Mary may have this group of women to support her, but with Jesus’ death she is destitute. A woman needs a man in Jesus’ culture. Joseph it seems, has died a while back (perhaps that was why Mary and the other siblings had so desperately wanted to see Jesus before?), and Jesus’ brothers are not ‘on board’ (James will, ‘get it’ pretty soon though). Mary is not only  destitute in the sense of being a childless widow, but her son has been shamed most publicly. The baying for his blood, being ‘hung from a tree’ – a euphemism for being cursed – being shamefully stripped naked and left for all to see. Another failed ‘Messiah’ – his sin, his blasphemy, huge in the eyes of the Jews. Jesus who always cared for the widow, the underdog, now reaches out to protect his own mother, and it is to John  he turns, but for comfort, Mary turns to her sisterhood.

Read it here

Palm Sunday

It is traditional to read the full narrative of the passion of Jesus on Palm Sunday. To sit, or stand, through the account of Jesus’ trial and subsequent arrest. The gospel writers have said all that needs to be said – no need for more words from me, what could I say that could add to this act of power, grace, mercy and love?

For those who work visually, this will be our backdrop – but beware, if you watch on past 3.25 there will be spoilers!

 

God’s Mighty Women: The Ones Jesus Spoke to on the Way to the Cross.

Luke describes the crucifixion of Jesus. In the other gospels we have already seen how the men ran away from the cross, scared, squeamish, or denied Jesus at his most needy time. Luke points out that Jesus stops, beaten, bloodied, in agonising pain, too weak to carry his own cross, in order to speak to the grieving, wailing women. He tells them to stop grieving, not to grieve for him, but to grieve for themselves.

When persecution comes it will be harder for women, for those who are most vulnerable, the pregnant, the nursing. But women have a stickability, a determination, a gumption of faith. They are here on the path from prison to execution, and they are there in the shadow of the cross.

As Jesus dies and the centurion and the others begin to realise what they have done, they beat their breasts and turn away. For the women, however, and others who truly knew Jesus, there was only one thing to do. To stay close to the one who had given their lives new purpose: to stay close and try not to despair as the day darkened.

Jesus has ascended: What on earth do we do now?

So, Jesus has ascended, and his disciples are witness to it. When a Roman Emperor died, he was declared to be divine if a witness could be found who had ‘seen’ him ascend.

 ‘Ascension was the instrument of power and glory:’ writes Tom Wright, ‘the power of the Roman State to keep subject peoples controlled by religious, as much as military, threat. The glory of the imperial system and the all powerful person at the top of it.’

But Jesus’ Ascension plays out differently.There were at least 11 witnesses for a start, if you don’t count the two ‘men in white’ (probably angels), and their first response wasn’t to report back that they had seen Jesus ascend, thus providing proof to their claims that he was indeed the Son of God, their first response was to return ‘home’. Here the other disciples, Jesus’ mother and even his brothers (who had previously thought Jesus mad, but had now obviously come to the conclusion that he was who he said he was after all), gathered together to pray. In Jesus’ own great prayer before his arrest and crucifixion as recorded in John’s gospel, He pleads with the Father that his friends would remain united, and here they are responding to that desire of their teacher by praying together, male and female. And they are waiting as they have been told to do, waiting for the Holy Spirit to take on the role of ‘Immanuel’ – God with us.

But they are also preparing themselves to further glorify Jesus. This is their calling and it is ours too – but not in the way that we might expect. For us to be glorified is to be clothed in splendour, power and majesty, but Jesus glorified his Father through his death on the cross. Jesus was glorified through humiliation and suffering on the cross, because it was through such torture that his love, suffering and sacrifice were revealed. Jesus prays for the disciples but he prays for himself too – he knows that the level of suffering will be beyond his endurance. But he prays for his disciples because he knows that once he has died life will be even more difficult for them. He prays for their protection, but Jesus doesn’t pray that they will be protected from physical suffering, he doesn’t pray that they will kept safe from harm, he prays that they will be protected from being drawn apart from each other.

The call to be in unity and community with each other as his disciples has been a constant for Jesus. Jesus himself has always been ‘one with the Father’, and now he speaks of his own disciples as belonging to God the Father. And, just as Jesus has glorified his Father through his own obedience and suffering, he has been glorified through the disciples. Now this is quite hard to believe. Jesus wasn’t known for telling little white lies to make people feel better, so these words must be true; this raggle taggle bunch of men who had a habit of putting their feet in their mouths, who were slow to understand and even when they did make a great theological break through followed it up with something so blasphemous that Jesus’ reply was to ‘get behind me Satan’. These are the men who run away when the guards come to arrest Jesus, who will deny even knowing him. These are the men who have already glorified Jesus.

So how does that work?

The disciples had got it wrong so many times and in so many ways, and yet they had also got it so right. They had made huge sacrifices already, giving up the safety of their homes, the comfort of their families, the security of their trade; they had shown Jesus love and companionship; and they had suffered. Maybe their suffering was nothing compared with Jesus’ death, but that was all to come. The question isn’t so much ‘How on earth did the disciples glorify Jesus?’ but ‘How on earth can we?’ Are we prepared to make sacrifices in our lives, putting our faith before work, before family, before everything else that the world cries out as being important? Are we prepared to suffer? Not something that we have to consider in our secure western society, or is it? Are we prepared to love – really love – as Jesus has loved us? Love those who we disagree with, love those who seek to cause us trouble, those who have hurt us? Are we prepared to love in community, seeing beyond the needs of our own family units, or even our own parishes, our own country? Are we prepared to live in love and community, whatever the cost? Because that is what Jesus asks of us, that is what Jesus prayed to his Father for us. And that is how we glorify God in Heaven.

The Good Shepherd

On Good Friday Jesus hung from the cross. On either side of him were thieves and bandits, but he alone was innocent. As Jesus lay down his life even the hardened soldiers noticed something different in the way that he responded and reacted to the cruelty of his last moments, ‘truly this man was God’s Son’.

As Jesus died on the cross he took on the sin and pain and hurt and grief and injustice of the world, but as if that wasn’t enough he created in himself a gateway. It is said that shepherds of biblical times would sit in the gate to the sheep pen through the night so that no harm could come to the flock, that no fox or wolf or bear or even sheep-thief could come in to steal or harm them. As Jesus died on the cross, he became for us the Good Shepherd, sitting in the gateway creating a barrier between death and life so that all who follow him will find protection and safety at the last moment, just as the criminal who hung next to him discovered when he asked to be remembered by Jesus.

Jesus’ own death on the cross created a new experience of death for all of us, but the gateway that Jesus created also opened up a new way of life, a new way of living. But first we need to hear him. The Good Shepherd we are told, knows all his sheep by name, and the sheep recognise the call of the Shepherd. The question is, do we recognise the shepherd’s voice? The culture we live in is loud and noisy, we suffer from noise pollution. It is difficult to turn off from the outside voices that vie for our attention, adverts and headlines, good causes and not so good. The external voices approach us from the TV, the radio, the internet, newspapers and magazines, even people on the street and sometimes knocking on our front doors. And then of course there is our own internal voice – the one that feels suffocated and struggles to be heard; sometimes it speaks clearly, encouraging words of hope and at other times it speaks of greed and selfishness. It can be difficult to hear the voice of the Shepherd – we need to learn to listen if we are to be kept safe. One of the thieves heard Jesus’ voice and was welcomed into the sheepfold, the other didn’t.

The Good Shepherd guards the entrance, keeping at bay those things which cane harm us, but also welcoming in those who belong. We need to know if we want to belong or not. If we do the gate will be opened wide for us. If we do, we need to learn how to listen to the Shepherd’s voice.

Picture Perfect: the ultimate sacrifice?

Joseph Stands in Sun walked up to Will, waiting beneath the forked cottonwood pole. He murmured something in Lakota, and then lifted a bright silver skewer. For  moment he held it up. and Cassie watched the sun reflect off its polished, speared tip. Joseph leaned close to Will, whose back stiffened. t was not until Joseph brandished a second skewer that Cassie realised that the medicine man had pierced the skin of Will’s chest, that blood was running down his stomach.

Like the other dancers’, Wills two skewers were tied to rawhide things that dangled from the top of the sacred pole. With Joseph leading them, the men began to dance, much as they had the other three days. The drums beat, but no louder than Cassie’s pulse. She gripped the armrests of her chair, her face drawn and white.

‘You knew’ she whispered to Cyrus, although she did not take her eyes from Will. ‘You knew and didn’t tell me.’

Will whirled and sang. His entire chest was slick with blood, since every time he twisted he tore the wounds. He pretended to pull away from the skewers, and Cassie stared, horrified, as his skin stretched to its limit.

Cassie grabbed Cyrus’ arm. ‘Please,’ she begged. ‘He’s hurting himself. You have to do something.’

‘I can’t do anything,’ Cyrus said. ‘he has to do this himself.’

Cassie let tears run down her face and wondered why she had ever encouraged Will to accept the Lakota side of himself. This was barbaric. She pictured  him in his neat LAPD uniform, his cap tilted low on his forehead. She saw him standing near her in the emergency room the day he’d found her, his arms crossed with concern. She imagined him dancing with her in the summer rain, her baby kicking between them.

‘Why this dance?’ she whispered brokenly, thinking of the other ceremonies she had seen, ones that hadn’t involved self-mutilation. She turned her head, shocked to see the milling crowd with smiles spread across their faces, enjoying the taste of someone else’s agony.

‘He’s not suffering,’ Cyrus murmured, ‘Not for himself.’ He pointed to the dancer beside Will. ‘Louis dances the Sun Dance so that his daughter will live, even though her kidneys are dying. Arthur Peel, over to the right, has a brother still missing in action in Vietnam.’ He turned to Cassie. ‘The dancers take pain upon themselves,’ he said, ‘so someone close to them won’t have to feel it.’

As the dance drew to a close Joseph stands in Sun stepped from the circle. The men began to twist and pull in earnest, straining to free themselves. Cassie stood up, helpless, and felt Dorothea’s hand on her calf. ‘Don’t,’ Dorothea said.

Suffering so someone else didn’t have to suffer. Sacrificing your body for someone else’s well-being. Cassie saw the skewer split another inch of Will’s skin, watched the  blood run down his chest.

He was looking at her. Cassie dragged her eyes to meet Will’s, locked her gaze with his. His image flickered, and she pictured her own body bleeding and broken at Alex’s feet, a venting ground for anger that had no connection to her. Will was only doing for Cassie what she had spent years doing for Alex.

Picture Perfect, Jodi Picoult

What seems barbaric to us makes absolute sense to the Lakota. It is the ultimate gift of love to sacrifice your own well-being for another’s – to stand in the way of danger, to lay down your life for  friend, ‘no greater love’ says the Bible. But this is gruesome, and it seems to change nothing other than to put Will through deep pain and to leave him with deeper scars.

But it speaks volumes to Cassie. She experiences a love from Will as he dances, that she has never experienced from her husband. She gains an understanding that what she endures is unnecessary and brings pain to others as well as to herself. Without Will’s gift of sacrificial love Cassie would not have been able to see her own situation, the flaws in her marriage so clearly, or been empowered to stand up to him, to reveal the flaw in the ‘perfect picture’ of her marriage to Hollywood’s best loved actor.

We are all flawed, and seek to hide our flaws. Sometimes our flaws inflict pain upon others, sometimes upon ourselves, and we need  help to release ourselves from the situation that we have become trapped in. Although we are the only ones who can take that next step, we can borrow strength from others. The Holy Spirit is often referred to as ‘The Strengthener’, the enabler, the comforter.The Holy Spirit is the presence of God Jesus sent in the wake of his resurrection and ascension, so that we would never be left alone to fight our battles.

As Will danced he was seeking permission from a higher power to take upon himself the pain that Cassie had endured in her marriage, and that he knew she would return to, despite the best wisdom. On the cross of crucifixion, Jesus did just that. Jesus bore all the pains and sorrows and griefs of this world upon his own shoulders and buried them in the deepest darkest places of death. He fought a way through and out into the open light of resurrection life. And yet we still have to go through times of pain and sorrow and grief. We have to go through these times, but we do not have to do so alone. The one who also bears our wounds goes with us, giving us strength to endure, courage to break away, and comfort in the darkest nights. He brings hope and promise too, that the morning will come.

Read on 

Living the Mission of Jesus: we are agents of social transformation.

Today’s gospel passage

Today is the third Sunday in Lent – also known as Refreshment Sunday as we are allowed to take a break from our Lenten fasts and to be refreshed by decent food and wine again. Tomorrow, however, we are back on the bread and water. It is also, of course, Mothering Sunday – or as Hallmark refers to it, ‘Mothers’ Day’. And yet our Bishop has asked us to focus on being agents of social transformation, and the lectionary readings have a little to say about mums but not much and not very much that is encouraging or inspiring.

This week I worked with one of our schools on a Mothering Sunday activity day, we looked at how important it was for Jesus to be born into a family, how important it was for God to experience having a mum. We thought about how most of Jesus’ friends ran away from the foot of the cross and hid, how even God the Father had to turn away from the sin  that Jesus was carrying, but his mother remained there, keeping her eyes focussed on Jesus the whole, painful, torturous, heartbreaking time. We thought about how God was referred to as a mother hen… and of course we thought about our own mums and made them posies and sweeties and cards.

The mum in this story is scared. Both she and her husband risk being excommunicated, being cast out from the synagogue – the cultural focus of the community not just the religious centre. The only statement that she is prepared to make is that this is her son. She will not abandon him, but she cannot stand by him as he grows in faith and boldness despite the insults of the Pharisees. So why does the Mother Church in all her wisdom give us this passage to consider today of all days?

Perhaps we need to go back to the origins of Mothering Sunday and try to peel our thoughts away from breakfast in bed and luxury chocolates. Mothering Sunday was originally the day when you would return to your ‘mother church’ – this could be the local cathedral or it could be the church where you were Christened. For those ‘in service’ (think Downton Abbey or Upstairs Downstairs) it was a rare day off when you were allowed to go ‘home’ in order to ‘go a mothering’. Customs grew up around this annual pilgrimage, posies picked on the way home were given to mum and a Simnel Cake was often baked as a gift. Although the cake was rarely eaten before Easter Sunday due to Lenten observances, the 11 balls of marzipan which decorated the cake, representing the 12 disciples minus Judas, remind us of the need for repentance and prayer lest we too should fall from grace.

So Mothering Sunday is really about the return to church, the return to our worshipping communities, the places where we belong and find ourselves at home. Does that fit with being agents of social change?

It seems to me that our society is very good at seeing problems and trying to cover them with sticking plasters, rather than trying to get to the root of the problem, the heart of the matter. Jesus worked in completely the opposite way, which may have been one of the reasons why he was so heartily disliked. It seems that the man at the heart of today’s story was well known, we read ‘those who had seen him before as a beggar’; He was well known, but only by his limitations, those he had grown up with saw him as a blind beggar, Jesus saw him as a visionary. As his sight is returned, the man grows in courage and although he begins by only recounting what has happened to him, with little explanation of how or why it happened, or even who it was who enabled him to see, his eyes and heart widen enough for him to be able to proclaim

‘Never since the world began has it been heard that anyone opened the eyes of a person born blind. If this man were not from God, he could do nothing.’

– enough to have him cast out of the synagogue.

And what happens when he finds himself excluded? Jesus comes and finds him. Today we may find our numbers have grown a little as people come along to church to experience the giving and receiving of posies, but I imagine many more people will still be in bed, or preparing to go out for lunch. There may be families of great affluence in our parishes who can really pamper the mothers in their midsts. There may be others who have little or nothing financially and the gifts that are lavished upon them are ones made at school. There may be mums on their own trying to make the day feel special when it feels lonely and even more difficult than normal. There may be grieving mums. There may be families with 3 generations of mums gathered together for a feast – the youngest mum being in her teens. There may be pregnant teenagers trying to hide feelings of morning sickness and shame.

Today we are to encourage each other to be motivated to do something positive for the communities we live in. To think about what offends us about the way our society is run and to think and pray about what we can do to make a difference. I can’t help but think that we need to open our eyes to the people living around us, and today of all days, to think about the family relationships that may be struggling and ways in which we as a church can support them. And maybe we do need to start at the root? The root of our gospel story is enabling people to change, to see things as they may be rather than as they are. At the root of our tradition of Mothering Sunday is the return to church as a family. Perhaps one way we could become agents of social change is by forging stronger relationships with our baptism families, and perhaps we could have begun by sending out invitations to ‘come a mothering’ with us today? If we want to do more than stick plasters on top of wounds then offering ourselves in support of parents and families before they find themselves struggling may be the way to go about it. Indeed we are encouraged in our Lenten prayer-life, focussing on the Rule of St Benedict, to think about how we can  develop a right sense of the holy activities of work, education and contribution to family life. Is this just for us or for our interaction with our communities.

Jesus went out to find the no longer blind beggar. Are we prepared to go out and find those who have been cast out from society? Can we help them to visualise a place where they can belong? Can we see ourselves as being the ones who enable that to happen? If so, where do we go from here?