HOLY SATURDAY 2020 - Sermon for All Saints, Blackheath

“Let him Easter in us,

be a dayspring to the dimness of us.”

X

INTRODUCTION

So wrote Gerard Manly Hopkins in his epic poem, The Wreck of the Deutschland, a ship that, in 1875, floundered off the coast of Harwich and in which five Franciscan nuns, fleeing persecution in Germany, were drowned.   ‘Let him Easter in us’

It is such an odd use of the word; surely ‘Easter’ is an event, not an experience; a noun not a verb?  Yet, here is Hopkins inviting us to let Christ ‘Easter in us’.   But it’s a great way to look at the truth, the transforming reality of Easter.  For Easter is about an activity that does not apply to something we do but something ‘he’ does in us.  Let Easter get into us.  Let Easter come and live where we live.  Let Easter permeate our souls.  Let him Easter in us; be as a new day to the darkness in us.  

Tonight we normally gather, after the long rigours of Lent and Holy Week, to do just that.  To let Christ ‘Easter’ in us.  Not to wistfully recall a long-ago episode, affirm our faith or even to worship at a powerful and moving Liturgy.  But to be present before the One who can Easter in our lives; we gather because we want to be transformed, given new life, find meaning and purpose.  Isn’t that what each of us longs for?  What we really want?  To know Easter in us.

Poetry, of course, takes us to places that prose cannot.  It is a way of painting with words and, like any painting it looses something when you try to explain its meaning.  Its power lies in the way the words effect the soul.  It’s the difference between the women described in tonight’s gospel reading from Matthew (28.1f) as running from the tomb with great fear and joy, and the description of Mary Magdalene, in the gospel for Easter Day (John 20.11), standing alone and encountering the risen Christ who forbade her to touch him: she needed to take that encounter to heart, not to make sense of it.

St. Paul in his Letter to the Romans hints at something similar: ‘For if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his’ (6:5).  Hopkins, on the other hand, reflects that same faith in fewer words: ‘Let Him … be a dayspring to the dimness in us.’

So here we are, like Mary Magdalene, before the mystery at the heart of our Faith, a Faith that is not focussed on the way we should live, or on the quality of life; not on creating a particular social order or helping people deal with pain and sickness, though it involves all of that and more.  Rather, ours is a faith that is centred on the death and resurrection of Christ.  It asks you and I to stand before that one event (for the two are one, though separated in time) and gaze upon it with loving eyes in the belief that that which you desire, that upon which you set your heart, will change you.  ‘Let him Easter in us.’

BAPTISED INTO LIFE IN CHRIST

This year we’re unable to celebrate this mystery with symbols that speak to us about life: fire and light; bread and wine.   We can’t encounter these sacramentals, as Mary Magdalene encountered Christ, material things which don’t speak into our understanding, but into our heart.  Although there is one symbol we can use – water.   If you can, go now and fill a glass bowl with water … 

We use water to wash and cleanse, to drink and enjoy.  But water also ends life, as it ended the lives of those Franciscans – and it can restore to life.  It is the ocean of birth and the river of death.  Hopkins was moved by the drowning of those five sisters, but he understood their death to be the fulfilment of baptism into new life, their rebirth into Christ, so concludes his poem:

Now burn, new born to the world,

                                                Doubled-naturèd name,

                        The heaven-flung, heart-fleshed, maiden-furled

                                     Miracle-in-Mary-of-flame,

Mid-numbered He in three of the thunder-throne!

Hopkins saw in this wrecked ship the lot of a world gone astray.  He compares it with the ark of salvation, the barque in which we’re saved.  He saw in the water the womb of Mary and the birth of Christ, and beneath the waters of death saw the ground of our being – what he called the ‘granite of God’.   Tonight, we can affirm our own faith in the granite – the Christ-rock: just dip your fingers into the water and make the sign of the cross over yourself …

None of us are immune to the ravages of existence; all of us are at risk of infection.  Sometimes it can feel as if we, too, are drowning beneath the terror of it all.  There will be moments, maybe days or weeks, when we seem to be existing beneath a dark pall, when it seems as if the storms of life will never pass.  That is when we need to hold fast in Christ. 

Eventually the storm will pass and calm will come; it’s then we need to make sure that that which holds and carries us, the faith which we profess, the hope which we have and the love which holds us in his hands, lies at the heart of our attention.  And there will be moments when we just need to bask in the sun of God: ‘Let Him Easter in us, be a dayspring to the dimness in us.’

CONCLUSION

So, let’s live as Easter people!  Live the faith we profess tonight: Christ is risen. For “… if we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his.” (Roms. 8:5)

This is the night when first you saved our fathers:
you freed the people of Israel from their slavery
and led them dry-shod through the sea.

This is the night when Christians everywhere,
washed clean of sin and freed from all defilement,
are restored to grace and grow together in holiness.

This is the night when Jesus Christ broke the chains of death

and rose triumphant from the grave.

Christ is risen, and hell is cast down!

Christ is risen, and the demons are fallen!

Christ is risen, and the angels rejoice!

Christ is risen, and life reigns in freedom!

Christ is risen, and the grave is emptied of the dead!

Let him Easter in us as we gaze upon him, not seeking to hold him but, rather, to be held in him who is our life and who offers us Easter.

Alleluia!!

VIRAL THOUGHTS 4 - THE BETHANY SISTERS

ABOUT 18 MONTHS AGO twelve teenage boys, all members of a football team, became trapped in a flooded cave system in Thailand before being rescued after 17 days as the world looked on.  All of them coped remarkably well – that is, all bar one.  For eleven of them were Buddhists, trained in the skills of meditation, whilst the twelfth was a Christian who he found it hard to cope with such sustained solitude.  At his church, no one taught the importance of contemplation.

I mention them because of the place of the contemplative as we enter Holy Week.  According to St. John’s gospel today, Monday, Jesus came to the home of his friends; Mary, Martha and Lazarus in Bethany (Jn.12.1).  The two sisters, Mary and Martha, play quite a prominent role in the gospels; Martha seems to be the active one whilst Mary appears to be more reflective.  Luke’s gospel contains a famous account of a visit Jesus paid to them when Mary sat at his feet whilst Martha was distracted by the many tasks she had to undertake.  This caused Jesus to observe: “Martha, Martha. you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the better part which will not be taken away from her” (Lk. 10.41). 

It’s a statement many consider shows Jesus commending the contemplative way over the active; others disagree.  Whatever the truth, it’s clear he’s is drawing attention to the importance of ‘sitting at the feet of Jesus’ – contemplating him – and the dangers of becoming ‘distracted’ from giving attention to that necessity.  And that would certainly seem to be true when consider the way eleven of those Thai boys had been taught the importance of meditation whilst the one who went to church clearly had not.

Discovering our inner world

As I’ve talked about before, this present period of enforced ‘lockdown’, when many cannot pursue their normal activities, has spawned a whole range of virtual replacements: if you can’t sing and dance, go to parties, play sports and so on there’s a whole range of similar activities being offered online so you never need feel alone, never have to explore alternative ways of living.  Even churches are offering online services, some of which are clearly designed to prevent people becoming bored.  And none of that is bad, it’s just that we’re missing an important opportunity to discover our inner world, an opportunity the church ought to be offering.

A long time ago, at another time of social upheaval, a wise monk said to an explorer: “Go to your cell, your cell will teach you everything.”  Those words strike me as important now we’re instructed to self-isolate.  Some, of course, will relish the monk’s instruction more than others, although it’s clear that even in our ‘cell’ we can do everything to avoid being there, never have to face what the cell might teach us. 

Whilst this crisis is a time of major, world-wide danger, it’s also, by definition, a time of opportunity; some-thing which is a very, very rare gift to humanity.  And whilst none of us want anyone to be affected by this virus, some see one consequence might be that we learn some vital truths about this matter of being human.  We’re offered a time when, unable to connect in real-time with friends, we have the opportunity of deepening our spiritual lives.  Instead of attending events where many gather, we’ve the chance of diving deeper into the cave of our inner-being and find our lost soul, both as individuals and as societies.  Will we take it?  Or is that inner world so foreign we fear going there? 

Many, when they first shut the door of their soul to the outer world find what lies within strange, even fearful, but this is the home of the ‘soul-self’, the one from whom we can never be parted, yet we can easily ignore.  Instead of finding the silence of the cell boring, we have the opportunity to practice ways of prayer which can unite us with the Other – which is one of the great discoveries I made as a Religious (a Franciscan), when I had to spend 30 minutes each day in silence alongside my brothers – and realised a depth of connectivity which no amount of partying enables.

At one with the other

Those of us living in ‘advanced’ societies can forget the wisdom of the ages – forget the deeper truths that, for millennia, sustained our ancestors.  After three or more years when we’ve torn ourselves apart over separating from a Union half the country said they wanted, and the other half didn’t, we’re suddenly realising a need for each other in profound ways.  Life’s no longer about some of the goals we’ve become accustomed to reach for; greatness doesn’t come with wealth but compassion; and that compassion is enabled by more than just a sense of empathy, it’s enabled through opening our self, our soul, to the Other. 

Those contemplative prayer-practices many have forgotten, or of which they’re ignorant, have much to offer, especially for those needing to overcome fear and loneliness.  We’re part of a hidden communion, a communion of saints, who surround us and to whom we can open the door of our heart.  That deep, slow breathing into the heart; holding on to a word and repeating it silently with the breath; being aware of ourselves as part of a beautiful, alive and life-giving creation – all this and so much more – reading those strange books called ‘gospels’ which nurtured humankind for over two thousand years, but which have been discarded in one generation – we have the opportunity of re-connecting with all these ways which touch into the heart of our humanity, the heart of God, during this crisis.  But will we take it?  There are so many resources around to help, and I’d be very happy to share some with you if you contacted me for ways of developing contemplative prayer.

The two Bethany sisters reflect our humanity and our society: we have grasped at the outer world of activity and ignored our need to nurture contemplation.   Now, for a few weeks, we have the real opportunity to dive deeper and learn practices that will help all of us – change all of us so that the tectonic plates of our humanity make a profound shift.  Practices that will open us to God in whose image we are made; which will enable us to become more at-one with the world.  Spiritual exercises good for the soul – as well as the body.

Go to your cell, your cell will teach you everything …

VIRAL THOUGHTS 2 - THE SILENCE OF GOD (Part 1)

WELCOME to the first of two short reflections on ‘Godly Silence’.

I WONDER IF YOU’VE NOTICED HOW QUIET THE WORLD IS?  Taking the bus to Tesco on Thursday, the roads were strangely empty and, apart from all the applause at 8 o’clock on Thursday evening, our neighbourhood is hushed. And so, it seems, is God. I’m sure there are many who wonder at the apparent Divine silence in the midst of this pandemic and consider that confirms there’s no such thing as ‘God’; or, if there is, God is certainly not good, otherwise he would have done something, a view which many embraced, for example, in the face of the horrors of past Holocausts.

Many have tried to understand why God seemed absent when needed by his people.  Some have realised that, having created humankind in freedom, God cannot step in and interfere – God has to remain hidden. Others say that to deny God in the face of tragedy would compound the nature of evil, whilst many realise that to take God out of the equation simply limits the resources we have to cope in such situations. And some, looking at how suffering is dealt with in the Book of Job, realise it’s right to cry out about it whilst not letting it become overwhelming, something that we also see in the way Christ lived through his Passion, which we’ll shortly recall during Holy Week.  They look at the events of that Week and realise – God is right there, in the heart of pain and loss, suffering and death, through the agony of crucifixion when even Christ cried out, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’  Yet, in the end, he commended himself into the hands of his Father.

There’s a mystery to suffering which we can never fully understand, but one thing is clear. The generational upheavals societies experience due to war or disease reveal what lies within – both the ‘bad’ and the ‘good’. Without such appalling tragedies, would we ever know what lay in the depths of our humanity?

I WAS BORN a year after the end of the last World War and, for a long time, knew nothing of its horrors.  My generation were told “You’ve never had it so good.” and that, for many, was correct.  Occasionally some might have suffered from disasters, floods and storms, but it was people living in countries remote from ours who experienced war, famine and infectious epidemics. And I, for one, wondered at people who, in such places, were still able to proclaim their faith in God, who said inshallah, it is God’s will.  Could disaster be God’s will?  Is that what they meant?  As part of a generation who believed widespread disease had been medically eliminated and that any sickness could be cured by a visit to the doctor, the thought that pain and suffering were the context of belief suggested a cruel God was the cause.  It is God’s will.    Now, for a while, the West – like most of the rest of the world – is again subject to those twins of pain and suffering and in it all, there seems only a Godly silence.

FOR SO LONG we, in so-called advanced societies, haven’t needed God, “we’re all atheists now” one BBC news presenter asserted recently.  Only in emergencies might God be privately addressed, as some turn to this ancient Mystery for solace.  But we no longer need a supernatural magician to solve our needs.  We expect them to be answered instantly – at the press of a button – and forget the long, patient, creative and sometimes, painful ways in which those needs are answered.  Whatever lies beyond our immediate human comfort-zone isn’t of great interest to many who are satisfied by spending hours on their i-phone, visits to the pub and gym, holiday’s in far-flung places and Saturdays watching sport.  Not that there’s anything wrong with any of that – in moderation – but ‘Life’ for many has lost any sense of mystery and is merely something which ought to give us what we want when we want it. Now, when that life has suddenly ended for a while – and may not return for some – there can be feelings of dread, dis-orientation and profound confusion – even anger.  Our landscape has profoundly changed and we’re going through a seismic, spiritual shift.  Yet still some say: God is there.

GOD IS PRESENT in so many small and great acts of kindness and compassion, of selfless service and outreach (as far as possible). God is still there in the wonder and mystery of the rest of creation which, at times like this, we need to contemplate.  And God is there in silence, as God has always been.  There for us in the same way he was when another nation found itself in a wilderness, lost and confused, longing for what had been and tempted to complain; there long ago when someone sat, fearfully, at the mouth of a desert cave and wondered at the sound of sheer silence; there when a Man was driven into the desert for forty days, tempted to despair; yet where, in the silence of solitude, he found himself.  There when people flocked to the emptiness of the Desert at the start of Christianity.  There for those Religious who embrace solitude and silence. There as we must fast from that which we normally look to, to feed us.

GOD IS PRESENT in our hearts, a place some rarely visit.  When you’re occupied with so much else, stillness and silence can be qualities to be avoided avoid.  So, let us pray: ‘Penetrate my heart, O God, by the radiance of your glance’ because it’s the person who befriends these two, solitude and silence, who can enter that holiest place. 

MIGHT THIS BE A TIME, then, when our culture has the opportunity to discover its depths?  When, un-distracted by noise and activity, we can see what we’re capable of through all those acts of selfless generosity; when we have the opportunity of realising what lies within in the silence of our hearts.  No longer able to travel to far-away places we suddenly have the chance of discovering our hidden, silent soul.  But we need those who have travelled further into the depths of the heart, the centre of our being, to guide us on the way.  Those who have realised that prayer is more than just asking for things, it’s a way of heart speaking to Heart.  That’s the subject for tomorrow evening, at the same time, when I’ll also offer some reflections on the connection between silence and prayer.  In the meantime:

Be silent,

still,

aware,

for there,

within your own heart,

the Spirit is at prayer.

Listen and learn,

open and find,

heart-wisdom.

                             Christ.

VIRAL THOUGHTS 1 - IN A TIME OF PANDEMIC: Living the Eucharist

AT A TIME when public celebrations of Mass have been prohibited due to the COVID-19 pandemic, many of us are expressing real hunger for the Eucharist.   As I read some of their posts, I recalled words I wrote in my book, Enfolded in Christ: the inner life of a priest.  Although they were written with clergy in mind, I hope they might speak to a wider audience:

‘THE EUCHARIST cannot be contained within the church for it is greater than the liturgy we celebrate.  Teilhard de Chardin SJ, the early 20th c. palaeontologist, geologist, philosopher and priest, expressed this most profoundly in his Hymn of the Universe probably written on the Feast of the Transfiguration in 1923 when he was living in the Ordos desert of Inner Mongolia. Lacking the necessities for Mass he was led to compose his majestic Mass on the World which opens with one of the most remarkable statements ever made about the Eucharist as he realises the need to raise himself beyond any symbols to offer all that lay before him ‘up to the pure majesty of the real itself.’

He acknowledges that the words of Christ, spoken by the priest over bread and wine, flow beyond those forms to the whole Body of Christ. In fact they reach into the cosmos itself so that all matter is affected by them. His Eucharist may lack bread and wine but before him lie the elements of creation that will provide the substance for celebration. His ‘prayer of consecration’ contains a wonderful invocation that the ‘radiant word’ would embrace and breathe life into the depths of creation so that Christ’s hands might ‘direct and transfigure’ all that is brought into this Eucharistic act to remould, rectify: ‘recast it down to the depths from which it springs.’  Over what greater celebration could a priest preside? 

Teilhard reminds us that all are invited to ‘live eucharistically’, to live out of that great ‘sacrifice of prayer and praise’ and look at the world with wonder and awe, recognising all things as a sacrament of the Divine. He realised that Eucharistic spirituality overflows the Liturgy to embrace life itself and is made real as we seek to discern everyday holiness. The way we walk down the street with thankfulness in our hearts offering to God all that we might encounter – the joys and sorrows, brokenness and wonder; the conversations we engage in, the sights that greet our eye whether that be in a green and pleasant place or amongst the houses, shops and factories of a neglected inner-city streetscape – all are the matter for our ongoing celebration. Our calling is to incline the heart to the real presence of Christ in all things.

(Eucharistic) spirituality, then, involves living with the intention of making of each moment an offering to God. The Eucharist is central to how our spirituality evolves because it is the nexus linking that which lies at the heart of our relationship with God and God’s creation, the place where Divine Love is most fully revealed. To be lovers of God-in-all-things must be the focus of our lives, not parishes, schools, cathedrals or whatever. They are the context. But we are called to love God and to live out of his compassionate Heart realising that the life which we celebrate is one that emerges from his sacrifice to which we are conjoined.  Sacrifice is at the heart of priestly life, an ‘Act of Communion’ with God in love. It is the means whereby we attain and rejoice in our true, Godly, life.  At the altar we join all our small sacrifices to his one saving sacrifice and beyond the altar we seek to live sacrificially that we may share in the life of our great High Priest. For in Jesus we see how one person can belong utterly to God.

Gerard Manley Hopkins also recognised this and shared his exuberance in the poem God’s Grandeur:

The world is charged with the grandeur of God.

It will flame out, like shining from shook foil….

But it’s not easy in the hum-drum of daily life.  What often happens as we walk down the street or sit on the train is that we notice life, shrug our metaphorical shoulders or cross our metaphorical arms and get into a conversation with that ‘evil spirit’ who happily waits just out of sight, ready to cast a critical glare.  He plays some old tapes about how awful things are and gently leads us down the spiral into the place of darkness. It’s then we need to wake up and realise that the sursum corda is not only necessary in the Liturgy: we are not to look on the world with a critical glare but a contemplative gaze. And when we catch ourselves going down that spiral we need to return to the simple spiritual practices which can re-awaken us to the wonder of creation – even though the glory may be smeared with dirt:

May you be well; May you be happy; May you know the compassion of Christ.'

_______________________________________________________________

When it’s possible to re-open churches, or where it’s possible to look into churches, I hope that the Blessed Sacrament will be exposed for people to see, for such Exposition is a continuation of the Eucharist and a powerful means of encounter with Christ.

Fr. John-Francis Friendship, March 2020,
extract from Enfolded in Christ: the inner life of a priest, p.110

VIRAL THOUGHTS - LENT AND CORONAVIRUS

LENT AND CORONAVIRUS

‘In God I trust and will not be afraid’ (Ps.56.11)

THE sudden arrival of an unwelcome guest into the life of our nation has caught most by surprise and the consequences of having to live with coronavirus for the foreseeable future will take time to be understood.  The virus’s arrival in Europe may have happened some time ago, but it was at the beginning of Lent it began to make itself known so Lent and the pandemic seem closely connected. 

AFTER Jesus had been living a normal life around the shores of Galilee he seems to have suddenly been drawn south, to the Jordan, by the preaching of his cousin, St. John Baptist.  He must have been aware of the way people were being affected by John’s radical message and the changes it was making in the way people lived, yet it wasn’t until he arrived at the Jordan that he seems to have been affected.  It was then that the Spirit suddenly descended on him and he was driven into the Wilderness for that Lenten period of forty days (Matt.3.13-4.11). Now, we also seem to have suddenly entered such a wilderness period, which also reflects the ‘forty years’ spent by the Hebrew people in another desert (Ex.22.15ff) which they had entered after their liberation from slavery in Egypt.

This motif of suddenly finding yourself in a place of disorientation happens from time to time.  A sudden illness or accident thrusts one into an unexpected place; at the outbreak of World War II, for example, people must have been filled with a variety of concerns:  Will I be safe?  How will I get food for the family?  What will happen to my job?  What will be the consequences?  Will I die?  We’re hardly prepared for such times and, for a while, it can affect us in unexpected ways.

As the Hebrew people began their wanderings, they, like Jesus, had to adjust to life without their accustomed norms. So, they began to want to return to Egypt where life seemed better, wondered from where food would come and, after panicking (never a good thing to do) gave themselves over to ‘eat, drink and be merry …’  Moses had to remind them of what was of fundamental importance, which was to be rooted in their relationship with God.  Perhaps this is a time when we, who live in a society where, for many, the greatest desire is to travel to Disneyworld, need to reflect on what is of fundamental importance to us: what we would like to be remembered for – momento mori.  What is the ground of our being? For both the Hebrews and Jesus this wilderness time was of greatest importance, and Jesus’ three Temptations seem to resonate with our present times.

‘COMMAND these stones to become loaves of bread.’ 

The panic buying and abuse of shop staff that has occurred in some places since the emergency was declared reveal how easy it is for human nature to be corrupted.  No one suddenly turns from civilised behaviour to acting like a vicious animal; corruption has developed over a long time.  Jesus’ response? ‘One does not live by bread alone but by every word that comes from the mouth of God’ (Matt.4.4) calls us back to consider the way we seek to live, and the way we have sought to mould the heart of who we are.

              His response also seems to speak into this time when most of us can no longer feed on the Eucharist, Bread of Life, no longer be nourished by Christ’s Real Presence, a loss which is felt keenly by those of us for whom Mass is the ‘centre around which their life revolves’.  Jesus’ response, that we live by every word that comes from the mouth of God touches on the fact that he is the Word: ‘The Father spoke one Word, which was His Son, and this Word He always speaks in eternal silence, and in silence must It be heard by the soul.’ (St John of the Cross, Maxims 21). This is a time when, denied the Bread of Life, we need to feed on the Word in the scriptures. To spend time silently meditating on the Word present amongst all the words we read. What is God saying to us through his Word?

One of the things, I  believe, is that at a time when emotions can get the better of us – fear, worry, irritation, anger etc. we need to recall the gracious words of Jesus in the Beatitudes he taught his disciples and the crowds who followed him: ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit … the meek … the merciful … the pure in heart … peacemakers’. This is a time when those who seek to live in Christ need to be expressing those virtues because it’s as easy for the lure of Satan (the Deceiver) to corrupt us now as it was then.  Have we, as a society, been encouraged to chase after the inconsequential, rather than facing what life actually involves?  We need to feed on food which will do more than satisfy our superficial cravings, and to realise that the way we face pain and suffering, the ‘dark’ side of life, help to mould who we are becoming.

‘IF YOU ARE the Son of God, throw yourself down; for it is written: ‘He will command his Angels concerning you …’  Inevitably people want God to ‘do something’ and can become anxious as to why our prayers don’t seem answered.  Some will say, ‘If God exists, why isn’t he acting?’ and we might wonder the same; but notice Jesus’ response to this temptation: ‘ … do not put the Lord your God to the test’. 

We can wonder why God seems silent at a time like this.  Yet the matter of trust, which this temptation concerns, goes far deeper than simply wanting to test God.  Jesus counters this potentially desolating temptation by saying that we simply need to trust.  We cannot know how the Divine Economy works, how God manages his household, and cannot know the deeper movements that might be going on at this time. 

For a generation wealthy, ‘modern’, First World nations have been spared the kind of conflicts and desperation which some other nations face.  We have thought that we are in complete charge, masters of our destiny, science has solved every problem.  Now we face vulnerability and are being exposed in ways that will reveal so much about both ourselves and the world we’ve created.  A world that is its own master – that doesn’t need God.  A world of competition rather than co-operation, which has seeped into our psyche.  A world which puts self first and looks for distractions to occupy time.  We’ve lived mindlessly rather than mindfully (recollectedly) and the depth of our hearts have ceased to be nurtured by being open to God.  Which leads on to the third temptation.

THE DEVIL took Jesus to a very high mountain and showed him all the kingdoms of the world … and said to him, ‘All these I will give you, if you will fall down and worship me’.
Worship is often laughed at in the West; it’s what ‘religious’ people do with odd services in odd buildings.  Yet it’s clear we worship something all the time – to be human is to be a person who worships.  The great 19th cent. American thinker and writer, Ralph Waldo Emmerson, said:

‘A person will worship something, have no doubt about that. We may think our tribute is paid in secret in the dark recesses of our hearts, but it will come out. That which dominates our imaginations and our thoughts will determine our lives, and our character. Therefore, it behoves us to be careful what we worship, for what we are worshipping, we are becoming.’

To this temptation of the Devil, Jesus responds: ‘Away with you, Satan!  For it is written, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him”’ (Matt.4.10).  Any society which dismisses the worship of God, the highest Good, but happily adores celebrities or gives itself to the desire for this world’s goods, is in grave danger of being let down.  Of becoming disconnected with the one source of life which can draw us into the fullness of our humanity.  At times like this we need to reflect on what we have given ourselves to, what we worship.

We have the choice, now, of being more God-like, or simply continuing in the way we have lived before.  In the 19th cent. people suddenly woke up to the terrible social conditions in which many lived, many women (in particular) gave themselves to the service of those in need by consecrating their lives to God as Religious sisters nursing the sick, teaching and caring for those in need.  We may not feel the call to such a radical life, but we can wake up to the need to give ourselves to our ‘higher self’ and begin deepening our prayer so we learn heart-wisdom. We need prayer-practices which enable us to open the centre of who we are to God so we can become rooted in the Divine.

             

Holy Week and Easter – simple spirituality

The Lenten Fast prepares us for Holy Week when the depths of our humanity are laid bare. 

Serving with thanks and praise. We may not be able to attend a Eucharist but, more importantly, we can live eucharistically, sacrificially … stop … notice the world around … see something to wonder at … lift up your heart and give thanks to the Creator.  Offer a prayer and your love to God. This is what expresses the essence of the Divine within us – makes us more human. And love your neighbour as you serve them.

Good Friday proclaims the need, in the end, to abandon the centre of our being to God in faith and trust, recognising just how hard might be the future we face – for forty days or forty years.  But this is also a time which offers the opportunity to reflect on how we would like to be remembered when we die – momento mori.

Holy Saturday, when Christ descended into Hell, is a reminder that even in the depths of despair Christ is present. Loneliness can become alone-ness as we turn to Christ, present in the depths. Beneath any view that this is a ‘day of rest’ we need to realise the great work being done by Christ in the deepest parts of our humanity as we abandon ourselves to him.  That work is for our freedom – our liberation through the ‘waters of death’.  At times we’ll feel overwhelmed but, held by God, we can never be overcome and, at the last, will come to new life – resurrection life.  These times of trouble will be overpassed. 

‘For the Lord will comfort Zion; he will comfort all her waste places, and will make her wilderness like Eden, her desert like the garden of the Lord; joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the voice of song’ (Isaiah 51. 3).

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THIS ‘Lent’ offers a powerful opportunity to renew our faith. 
What do I live for?  How does Christ in the Desert speak to me? 

JESUS CHRIST, Son of God, have compassion on me, a sinner.

(Isaiah 51. 3).

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SOME RESOURCES can be found here:
Some Ways of Developing Prayer; Spiritual Communion; Online Worship; Prayer in Anxiety

VIRAL THOUGHTS - FAITH IN A TIME OF EPIDEMIC

None of us can be unmoved by the reports concerning the Covid-19 pandemic which has suddenly infected the world, changing our behaviour and, on an almost daily basis, the way we live.  Some sporting events have now been cancelled and the Archbishop’s of Canterbury and York have just sent out instructions that the chalice is not to be offered for the duration.  This will be a step some find hard to accept, although I know most will understand it is for the common good.  As I pointed out before, to receive only the Host is not to receive less of the grace conferred by the Sacrament – Christ cannot be divided.  It’s one of the reasons why the priest places a portion of a Host into the Chalice before communion.    

This is a time when we depend on those medical experts who are qualified to give good advice, and to make sure we follow it as best we can – and if you’re fed up with singing Happy Birthday twice as you wash your hands, you may prefer to say the Hail Mary – which has the added benefit of being a prayer.  But there are deeper issues which our Faith addresses and I wanted to say a few things about that this morning as it may be our churches have to close.

The world has not faced a pandemic like this since the outbreak of ‘Spanish’ ‘flu at the close of the First World War.  There have been other epidemics – Ebola, for example – but most hardly affected countries outside parts of Africa or Asia.  Now, suddenly, the wider world is involved.  When I look at what’s happening in some places it makes me wonder if we’re experiencing something of the fear, concern and panic that must have affected people when war was declared in 1939.  Will I be safe?  How will I get food for the family?  What will happen to my job?  What will be the consequences?  Will I die?  And older people, those with certain existing health problems or who know someone at risk, are rightly concerned.  More and more cases are being reported of people suffering from anxiety and depression due to fears about the virus.  There’s nothing wrong with feeling deeply disturbed, but we need to have faith that God is with us, no matter what happens.  That is why we pray ‘thy will be done’; in His will is our peace.  With that in mind, Bp. Jonathan of Croydon has written:

‘Our response to the coronavirus can’t be merely pragmatic, still less fearful – it must be informed by our faith in God.  We come into God’s presence recognising our weakness, our sin and our fear – and opening ourselves to be filled again with God’s gifts of faith, hope and love.  In the incarnation of Christ, God comes to share all our human state, including our desire to avoid suffering – ‘Father if this cup can pass from me’, Jesus prayed in Gethsemane – but with complete trust and commitment to do whatever was the Father’s will.  Because he has passed through death and defeated death, we too can approach whatever may come, knowing that God will be walking with us.’

We have faced situations like this before, but from a background of faith.  Not that God will suddenly end an epidemic or plague but that we trust that God will never forsake us.  In His Will we trust.  It’s not that there’s no point in praying for a miracle – there’s every point in praying for a containment of the virus, that those who suffer will be made well and that a cure will be found.  But miracles are just that – they are out of the ordinary.  In the year 1230, for example, when Rome was suffering from the plague, Pope Gregory IX (a holy man and close to St Francis of Assisi) and people carried a portrait of our Lady through the city and the plague ended.  Icon kept in Church of Santa Maria del Popolo in Rome, but few in the UK have such faith. 

Looking forward it may be that large gatherings for Mass have to be cancelled – although I hope your midweek Masses can continue as well as times when the church can be open for prayer. Even though we may not be able to receive the Blessed Sacrament, we can continue to feed on Christ through deepening our prayer and Notes on how to do this available here, including some on a tradition known as ‘Spiritual Communion’ and other resources. I’d also encourage you to really listen to our Second Reading this morning from Paul’s Letter to the Romans (5:1-11).

At a time when we might feel fearful of the future, worried for ourselves and those we love or have a sense of deepening darkness, it’s vital that we maintain those practices of daily prayer and bible reading which give us life.  Past experience shows that now is the time to turn to God and say – ‘in Your will is my peace.’  The psalms, in particular, can be a real source of strength in facing the future, and if you cannot attend Mass on Sunday I would encourage you to read through the scriptures for the day when you make your Spiritual Communion.

In an uncertain time like this God isn’t a heavenly insurance policy: Christ was not rescued from suffering but was faithful through it.  In fact, what he experienced only deepened his faith in his Father and, through the Resurrection, was profoundly made whole.  This is what we recall during Lent as we look forward to Passiontide and Easter.  We may have to pass through our own Holy Week, but God drew Christ through suffering into new life.  That’s the faith we have and which we need at a time like this and which, as Bp. Jonathan went on to say:

’In the light of that wholeness and that promise, we can live the life we are given with the joy that Christ gives, day by day, looking forward to the fullness of eternal life.’ 

And with that faith it’s important we allow it to inform our life.

It’s at times like this I realise how fortunate I am to be living in a country with a National Health Service.  And I wonder what it must be like for those who are homeless or living on our streets?  Or who are foreigners amongst us, or refugees?  To be a Christian means to be someone who follows the way of Christ, who welcomes the stranger and shows compassion to the foreigner.  We are not to do what some are doing – fight over supplies, be rude to shop staff, show impatience and anger.  Times like this reveal both the best in human nature as well as what happens when we allow it to become corrupted – and it’s not nice.  Whatever happens there’s every reason why we must continue to show compassion and kindness – anything else would mean we were less than human. 

At a time when it’s important to take sensible precautions, we mustn’t erect barriers but witness to the love of the God who breaks down barriers, who reaches out to embrace us, who heals and reconciles us by the gift of his own body, his own blood, of which we are part through baptism.  As our bishops have written:

‘We continue to be the Body of Christ and in the face of perils and adversity we become yet more the Church, for it is by encountering these challenges in a right spirit and trusting in God that we are forged into the image of Christ and become the people God made us to be.  May we encounter such trials as may come our way in a hopeful spirit.   Let us then be of good courage, sensible and cautious, but not anxious and fearful: and may the light of Christ that he has given to burn in us and… shine brightly in these days.

As we make our journey towards Holy Week and Easter the Way of the Cross will be very much before us this year.  We will be bringing the suffering of many to the foot of the Cross from which Our Lord extended his saving love for the world and for us all.’

Finally, if it helps, the Diocese of St Alban’s have published four ‘Golden Rules’ to help us at this time:

Rule One: think about how you can protect and support your neighbours and stop spreading fear about the other.  Don’t demonise anyone or any group.

Rule Two: Think about who may be suffering more than you.  Let each church undertake an audit of all the vulnerable people you know and share out the responsibility to phone them each day – a friendly voice offers solace when someone is worried.

Rule Three. Don’t give into panic and start hoarding food.  Ask your neighbours what they need and do your best to help them get it because if you’re are self-isolating, you’ll need someone to help you.

Rule Four. Live today to the full.  None of us ever know what the future holds so do not be afraid.  Every time we are tempted to give in to fear we need to make a conscious choice to respond in trust, as the psalmist said:

‘Whenever I am afraid, I will put my trust in you;

in God whose word I praise.

In God I trust and will not be afraid,

what can mortals do to me.’ (56.3f)

So, when you leave Mass this morning, look out for the wonder of God in little things – the buds opening on trees, tiny violets smiling through the grass, daffodils waving in the wind – and let your heart offer thanks. Let us pray:

Loving God,
source of healing and comfort,
at this time of fear fill us with your grace
that the sick may be made whole,
this virus contained and a cure may be found.
Strengthen those who care for the sick,
calm the anxious,
protect the most vulnerable
and help us see your beauty in the world.
This we ask in the power of Spirit
and in the faith of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Fr. John-Francis Friendship
15.03.2020

(Parts of this article reflect the writings of Jonathan, Bishop of Croydon, the Diocese of St. Alban’s and the Dean of Southwark)