Some of the most beautiful paintings and frescoes from the life of Christ are those depicting Jesus’s “Triumphal entry” into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday. One of the most famous was by Giotto on the walls of the Basilica of St Francis in Assisi – sadly damaged by an earthquake a few decades ago.

The drama clearly evokes the return of a Roman Caesar after some victorious battle, entering through some grand arch into Rome, while the crowds roar and wave branches. “Hosanna to the Son of David!” is the equivalent of, “Hail, Caesar, Emperor of Rome!”

But it’s not a golden chariot, but a colt, the foal of an ass, on which he rides. And his face, in all the paintings, is not glowing with contentment, but touched with a deep sadness.

This, for Jesus of course, is the start of the path to Calvary, so there’s no spring in his step. And indeed, this palm-waving is the very adulation that the Tempter promised him in the desert – the glamour of success – so Jesus is still on his guard against taking the easy way.

So why do it? Why play their game?

He doesn’t want praise and applause, he knows how fickle crowds can be: so why deliberately choose to enter on a donkey and accept the acknowledgement of the crowd? Why consciously mimic exactly the kind of Messiah that they are expecting, but which he shown time and again that he definitely is not?

Two things. Firstly, I think that Jesus is always correcting the distorted view of the Messiah that the people of Israel have extracted from scripture and prophecy. They have a “Ten Top Signs of the Messiah” list – and arriving on an ass is definitely on it. (We shouldn’t see an ass as a sign of ridicule, by the way. Horses were exclusively for the military, the ass was just normal transport). Everything is completed in Jesus; every prophecy fulfilled – but never in the way that’s expected. This is a triumphal entry, but the victory is yet to be achieved, and the triumph will be in a manner that not even the angels could have foreseen.

Secondly, the events of this week are of cosmic significance, and the clamour of the actual crowd fades into the background as we – and people of faith in every age before and after us – see the Servant King arriving in the city that bears his name. The moment is full of wondrous love. The look of sadness on Jesus face is not just for those crying hosanna, but for the lost-ness of the world in every age. It is a solemn moment where the very stones are ready to cry out to acknowledge the one who shaped them.

Nothing is really dependent now on whether or not his words have been heard and taken to heart.

Nothing is dependent on the Jewish authorities recognising the Word.

Everything hangs now on the simple obedience of a son to his father’s will.

Holy Week has begun.

“Incipit Lamentatio Jeremiae” (pronounced Yeh reh me ay). The opening line of one of Tomas Tallis’ most beautiful works, his “Lamentations”.

You can tell from our dog’s name that I rate this 16^th century English composer very highly. We used to sing the Lamentations in the choir I was in at college. But it felt then that we were singing “Old Testament stuff” that happened years ago. A bible story like the plagues of Egypt that had nothing to do with the present day. But this is the first line

“How solitary the city lies! Her streets are empty, her majesty gone, like a woman in mourning.”

This time last year, it suddenly felt very near as we saw pictures of deserted streets in London, and Rome, and Madrid….

The experience of exile was fundamental to the journey of God’s chosen people, and Jeremiah was prophesying in Babylon where the inhabitants of Jerusalem we now living as slaves. Everything precious to them had been torn away by the invaders and Jeremiah echoes the lament of all God’s people. He pulls no punches – things are as bad as he could ever have imagined. I guess that in our present “exile” the deeply precious thing that is denied us is human contact, fellowship and touch.

The situation for Jesus’ disciples, in the passage from John’s gospel we’ve just read, is not far distant from Lamentations. Things are as bad as they could get. The sweet fellowship of the shores of Galilee have been replaced by a crowd that is out for blood.

And then Jesus says these strange words. “Now the hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified” – or, we might say, “… to be revealed”. Now, when things are darkest. Now, when everything precious has been ripped away, as Jesus’ garments are about to be. Now when all hope seems lost. Now Jesus is about to shine.

Now he is revealed.

Now that the miracles are over; now that no one is being healed; now that his teaching is only to the disciples at the Passover meal – and deeply personal; now that he is just a human being, struggling with the things human beings struggle with.

Now God glorifies his name.

“I have glorified it,” the voice says; I have revealed it, because this hour changes everything, and its power goes back to transform history. Because of this hour, the man at the wedding is no longer just a miracle worker, he is the one who turns darkness to light. No longer just the teacher who calls Andrew and Peter, but the Way the Truth and the Life. The signs were all there, in every word, every touch, every encounter. But they are about to be ignited.

“I will glorify it again.”

What, then, is this hour? This hour when a grain of wheat dies and bears a rich harvest?

It’s the hour of clarity – the hour when we see clearly the meaning of love. All bets are off. All previous versions of God that linger in our minds are cancelled. Here he is – “behold the man” we might say. He couldn’t possibly ask the Father to save him from this hour, because here is the human being in whom “there is nothing that love cannot face; there is no limit to its faith, its hope, its endurance.”

Nothing in all creation can shake that. No virus nor plague, no death nor bereavement, no hell nor high water, can quench the love that is shining now.

Worship at home for Passion Sunday and Palm Sunday

Please keep this liturgy to use for the next two weeks – prayers, hymn suggestions and readings will be provided with the pewsheet each week.

If you’d like a hymnbook, Rod can drop one off to you.

Preparing for worship

– if possible, beginning at 9am or 10.30

You’ll need a table, a piece of bread, a glass of wine or juice.

A cross.

A candle, ready to light on the table.

WELCOME

Christ became obedient, even to death on a cross

Therefore, God has highly exalted him

Giving him the name above all names

That at the Name of Jesus, every knee should bow

May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God,

and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with us

and with all our sisters and brothers, near and far.

HYMN

CALL TO THE FEAST

Light your candle with these words:

We all like sheep had gone astray,

turned each to our own way,

 and the Lord has laid on him the sins of us all.

He was pierced for our transgressions

and bruised for our iniquities

 and to bring us peace, he was punished

 and paid for the guilt that was ours.

PENITENCE

The sacrifice of God is a broken spirit;

a broken and contrite heart God will not despise.

Let us therefore bring our sins before God and confess them in penitence and faith.

After a moment of quiet reflection, we confess our sins to God with this prayer;

Most merciful God, we confess to you,
before the whole company of heaven,
that we have sinned in thought, word and deed
and in what we have failed to do.
Forgive us our sins,
heal us by your Spirit
and raise us to new life in Christ. Amen.

O God, make speed to save us.
O Lord, make haste to help us.

Glory to the Father and to the Son
and to the Holy Spirit;
as it was in the beginning is now
and shall be for ever. Amen.

THE ASSURANCE OF FORGIVENESS

God of love, you forgive us and free us from our sins, you heal and strengthen us by the Holy Spirit,

and raise us to new life in Christ our Lord.  Amen

In place of the Gloria during Lent, we say the Song of Lament

THE COLLECT and the two readings for today are printed on the pewsheet

The first scripture reading

 At the end, there may be a short period of silence followed by this response:

For the word of the Lord.       Thanks be to God.… Read More

So, this is a bit awkward.

The problem with going to Jerusalem (and remember, I was dead against it from the start) is that it’s much harder to stay under the radar of the Romans. Seeing as there’s so many of them there.

In Galilee, in Capernaum, there’s a bit of … flexibility. The soldiers get decent quarters and a good fish supper and in return, they “overlook” some of the illegal gatherings and provocative preaching.

Not in Jerusalem.

The Romans there are all nervy. Pilate is always strutting about trying to be popular, but underneath he’s a bag of nerves. He thinks even the smallest crowd is dry powder ready to explode. He tries to squash everything before it can even get started.

Don’t annoy them! I said. Keep a low profile and we might be okay.

And he does what? Annoy? Not the Roman – oh no! It’s not them he insults and challenges. It’s the temple authorities … his own people for goodness’ sake! Herding out sheep, kicking over tables, shouting …

I’ve never seen him like this. Following him, you get used to him calling a spade a spade and telling people some pretty uncomfortable truths. But this seemed to wound him like a sword in the heart. He just went mental – as if he’s caught someone bullying his kid brother or something.

I honestly don’t know what got into him. Sure, the temple should be better – a holy place, I mean. I guess it should be a shining light amongst God’s chosen race, a sign of His presence amongst us. But I didn’t expect him to take it quite so personally. I suppose he was expecting honour and reverence and found only greed. Come to think of it, if God’s name isn’t held in honour here, where will it be?

I don’t know why, but that verse from the psalm came to me – zeal for your house has consumed me. Consumed is about right.

Be that as it may, the end result is this: us (a couple of dozen at the most – and falling) against the Romans and the Jewish authorities. Just because he was expecting worship and found corruption, expecting thankfulness and found distain.

If you want my opinion, a little self-control wouldn’t have gone amiss, given the situation. Might have saved us a shed-load of trouble.

Mary M keeps telling me to zip it and keep away from him. Can’t you see how hurt he is? she says. Don’t you know that this is his Father’s house? How would you feel if someone invaded your home and started selling off all the precious mementoes that your mother keeps to remember your father? She always seems to know when he needs a gentle touch, or a napkin to wipe away a tear.

I keep away. I usually manage to say the wrong thing anyway.

But what I’m thinking, if I’m honest, is … where do we go from here?

For goodness sake Peter, Mary says, looking straight at me. Have a bit of faith.

PRAYERS OF INTERCESSION

Gracious Father, you have promised that you are near to us when we draw near to you; cleanse and purify our hearts as we bow before you and pray for health, safety, justice and peace throughout the world.

Lord in your mercy                                          Hear our prayer

We pray for one another as we meet the trials and testing of our faith, and all the bewildering changes to our daily lives. In our sufferings, give us perseverance, in our confusion, wisdom, in our doubts, faith.… Read More

Once again, just like the events of the past year, today’s readings bring us to the edge – the knife edge.  On one side, lie suffering and destruction. And on the other – strangely and wonderfully – life and salvation.

Anticipating contemporary fears for our planet, Isaiah describes the heavens vanishing away like smoke and the earth wearing out like a piece of clothing.  People will die like gnats – all chilling comparisons.  And in Chapter 8, Mark’s Gospel has reached its pivotal point. The knife twists and Jesus’ life turns irrevocably away from that of teacher and healer towards the suffering, rejection and self-giving of his death on the cross.  Confronted, as we have been for so many months, with the fragility of human existence and so very conscious of present-day loss and suffering, our first impulse might have been to respond like Peter by berating Jesus for a defeatist and morbid assessment of the way his life will end.

Both passages rest on startling paradoxes and both offer us challenging perspectives.  And perhaps this Lent, more than any before, we are ready to engage with the challenge of hearing it as it is.  Is the faith, we thought we were so sure of, enough to carry us through present realities? Did we underestimate what would be demanded of us?  Do we want to turn away from the difficult challenges? Can we bring ourselves to level with God, to open ourselves to his saving love? These are questions which are asked every  Lent but this time with double the anxiety and urgency.

Isaiah speaks to people who know their need – for protection, for hope, for enlightenment and guidance.  They need salvation for they are people, inhabiting a worn-out world set to vanish along with the heavens above.  Salvation, for a people whose lives seem as dispensable as they are insignificant.  Salvation, for a people who are on the edge and who call out in desperation. And to them, God, himself, promises deliverance, coming quickly and lasting for ever – the “divine” things of which Jesus speaks in the Gospel.

Bold and purposeful, Peter does not yet recognise or acknowledge his own spiritual need.  Crunch time is coming but for the moment, he is too caught up in saving the world, alongside Jesus, too busy engaging with the clamouring crowds and being one of the Rabbi’s inner circle.  He has just answered Jesus’ question about who the disciples think Jesus is – the others hesitate but confidently Peter asserts that Jesus is the Messiah.  The answer is technically correct, but Peter’s interpretation of Messiah is very  different from Jesus’ description of the “Son of Man” a couple of verses later. Jesus’ description is startlingly honest – the only response Jesus, the Son of Man, can possibly make to God’s love is own, complete, self- giving love.  Jesus is clear, there will be suffering, loss, rejection, death but there will also be resurrection and new life.  And the honesty  is shown again, when Jesus admits that he, Jesus, is being tempted to push the challenges aside.

In the wilderness, Jesus had fought off three human temptations by opposing them with God’s perspective, found in prayer and scripture. Now he tells the crowd of friends and followers that God’s perspective, the “divine” perspective is that of self- giving and self-emptying love. It will be hard but if they really want to follow Jesus, then this is how it is going to be for them, too. If they opt for the selfish path of accumulating power and wealth, they will lose their soul. … Read More

What’s good about the Devil?

“Nothing!” I’m sure you would reply without hesitation. But what I actually mean is, “What’s good about the idea of there being a real, personal Devil?” as opposed to the claim that it’s just a figure of speech to represent evil in general.

Well, the first good thing about the idea is that it reminds us there’s a battle going on. Michael and his angels fighting against the Devil and the powers of darkness – that there is a force at work in the universe that resists God’s will and that the way the world is can be far from what God intends it to be.

The second benefit is that it helps us distinguish between sickness and evil. Psychoanalysts like Freud asserted that all wrong human behaviour could be explained by mental dis-ease and that if you cured the condition, you would end the antisocial behaviour. Sadly, not true. People can choose the path of evil of their own free will without any pathological condition. Evil is very tempting.

Finally, (though I’m sure this isn’t an exhaustive list) it helps us to know that temptation and sin are not the same thing. In the wilderness, Jesus is tempted as we are, but without sin. Desiring something can be the temptation, choosing to follow the desire would be the sin. It can perhaps be easier to resist, if we see an actual being as the Tempter who crosses our way.

So. (We’ve had “But”, we’ve had “And” – it’s high time we had a “So”).

So, what’s bad about the idea of a Devil?

Well, certainly the first danger is that the Devil can be used as a get-out clause. The Garden of Eden is a parable, but a pretty astute one – “The serpent tricked me and I did eat”. It wasn’t my fault, someone else made me do it. We know that won’t wash, but we do still try …

There is also a danger of seeing a devil where there isn’t one. The gospel writers see many a suffering person as being possessed by demons – it was the only explanation they had at the time – and so they see Jesus as casting out demons when he cures people of schizophrenia or epilepsy. We do tend to see what we expect to see. In similar vein, I would say 99% of all the callouts I’ve had to haunted houses have been projections of a person’s inner battles and fears – nothing supernatural going on.

But the most dangerous “bad” about picturing a personal Devil is that it gives substance to something that is in fact emptiness. In the end, there can only be God and “not God”. Only what comes from God has life and can last and grow and flourish. Everything that is “not God” in our world has substance for a time, but in the end will simply cease to be. There can be no devil and no hell in eternity.

Believing or not believing in a personal Devil is not a crucial article of faith for Christians. You can take either view and be a deeply committed believer.

Personally, I don’t believe in the Devil as a person. And indeed, like Facebook and Twitter, I think it causes more harm than good and should be dispensed with.

But I get the feeling this is one reflection of mine that won’t pass unchallenged …

Old Testament Glory.

God’s glory is a terrifying (and frequently destructive) thing.

That would have to be the unequivocal conclusion that even a casual reading of the Old Testament would lead you to.

The Passover, Moses at mount Sinai, Elijah in his cave, Isaiah in the year King Uzziah died, Daniel’s visions … they all attest to the fact that the normal consequence of an encounter with God’s glory is to shrivel up and died. Only a select few, who we might consider to be “friends of God”, can possibly endure it.

Why? Well, put simply, mortal and eternal don’t mix.

If any creature other than Moses so much as touches the holy mountain, they are destroyed. If anyone other than the designated Levitical priest approaches the Ark of the Covenant, they die a horrible death. Elijah has to be hidden in the rock when God passes by, and Isaiah thinks he is history because he has seen the Lord.

It’s not that God punishes his people for their presumption – not a, “How dare you?” – it’s just that the stuff we’re made of can’t cope. Like Icarus flying too close to the sun with his wax wings. Mortal flesh can’t be exposed to such glory – unless God provides substantial PPE.

New Testament Glory.

So … what’s “new” about the New Testament? Pretty much everything really.

“The Word was made flesh … and we beheld his glory. The glory as of the only son of the Father.”

So, if we take on board the Old Testament understanding, we can see how revolutionary the concept of beholding God’s glory is. Not just Moses and Elijah can see it, and endure it, but ordinary fishermen and dim-witted disciples like you and me. Because God’s glory is no longer a distant, transcendent, unbearable experience; it’s been made flesh. It doesn’t destroy, it builds up. It fills us, not with terror, but with awe.

Is this a different glory? Has God changed and become more friendly? Well, not if we mean anything by, “Glory to the Father … as it was in the beginning, is now and shall be forever.” Eternal changelessness is God’s middle name. Same God, same glory.

But what has changed is the way we are able to approach God.

The mystery of the Incarnation is not just for Christmas. God has brought two things that just won’t mix into one person. Fully human and fully eternal. Now, when we approach God, we see his glory in the face of Jesus – of a mortal like us. A human can approach a human; not a problem. People pressed in on Jesus from every side, they clung to his robes and were not destroyed, but healed. At the moment, we’re trying to get our heads round human contact spreading Coronavirus – but true human contact is a glorious thing and spreads only love. We mustn’t let this epidemic shake our faith in that. Speed the day when we can affirm it once more, and share the Peace with one another.

And (notice, it’s an “And” this week, not a “But”!). And, when we approach Jesus, we also approach the glory of the eternal God, who dwells in unapproachable light. Because, by his grace, we are magically transfigured into Moses and Elijah, who can endure it, who can stand in God’s presence and serve him.

Why? Because, by grace alone, Jesus calls us his friends. No longer a select few, but everyone who thirsts for God can now be – with Abraham and Moses, with Isaiah and Elijah – a friend of God.… Read More

Dear friends,

It’s been very encouraging to hear this week that the “real life” data on the vaccination roll out confirms the evidence of the original clinical trials, that they are safe and effective. In particular, it confirms that you achieve excellent protection by 21 days after the first dose, and that once vaccinated, you are very unlikely to be able to spread the virus.

So I’d like to encourage those of you who have been out of circulation for some time and have had at least your first jab 3 weeks ago or more, to think of coming back to church as a good first step back into the outside world.

There is a real danger after such a long time of isolation, that we lose the confidence to pick up the life in the community that we had before. And there will always have to be a first step towards that. Sunday services at St Andrew’s are conducted with all the safety that we’ve developed over this year, and we’ll keep to that until it’s safe to worship in closed proximity! Also, over half our folk have had their first jab last month ( indeed, almost all of our 9am congregation), so you won’t be a danger to yourself or anyone else. Besides which, we’d love to see you!

Because the scientific assessment is so reassuring, I’m happy to welcome folk over 70 to re-join the singers from 20 days after your jab. Also, we will once again hold our Thursday morning communion from the beginning of Lent.

And finally … thank you to the 30 people who have contributed a Thought for the Day for our Lent programme – we just need 10 more! I should have made it clear that they don’t have to be “Lenten” in theme – though they can be! – just something you have found helpful on the journey.

God bless,

Rod x

How do you respond to the highly charged language of today’s readings? Do you, perhaps, feel that it is all beyond our grasp? And yet, don’t you want to keep on stretching out your imagination to reach it?

Both readings take us back to the beginning – perhaps back to before the beginnings of time, light and life.  Both passages highlight “being” and “creation of being” and both hint at things “hidden”, “invisible”, “partially visible” “darkness” and “light”.  Poetic language which sends tingles down our spine but tests our imagination to the limits. At first, the words refuse to speak plainly and offer us no point of reference or certainty.  And yet, just when we fear we’re right out of our depth (and are ready to give up the struggle!) both passages resolve themselves in one amazing conclusion.

What a gripping start to one of Paul’s letters and to John’s Gospel!  And how similar is the effect of both pieces of writing on the reader.  I hope you felt slightly light-headed as you plunged through time and space, from darkness to light and from incomprehension to comprehension and I hope that, suddenly, it all clicked for you – an epiphany beyond Epiphany, as it were. Both Paul and John faced daunting challenges as Jews taking the new Christian Faith out into the non-Jewish world.  But, although both are addressing newcomers to faith in Jesus Christ,  this doesn’t make the passages any less challenging for us, even with 2000 years of Christianity behind us! Over and over again throughout our lives, we all seek the meaning and purpose of existence, we all ponder what might be the nature and will of God, we all move between doubt and uncertainty, especially in dark times like these.

Paul thinks highly of the people of Colossae and although he hasn’t founded their church himself, he knows and understands their political, geographical, and cultural contexts.  He writes to encourage them in their newfound understanding of God because he knows how much support they will need to resist the arguments and false beliefs which are already spreading through their community. His greeting and his prayer of thanksgiving for this new church are quickly followed by his breath-taking description of Jesus who, crucially, is “the image of the invisible God”. As Paul sees it, God in Jesus, creates, holds together everything he has created, reconciles, and brings peace.  Exuberant language but totally compelling in its depiction of God’s self-giving love outpoured on the cross.

John’s opening words explode into our imagination – spine-tingling and breath-taking and packed with personal and shared associations for those who’ve heard them before.  Almost every word has its own significance – a reflection in itself – try starting with “In the beginning was …” and see how long and how far it takes you!  An explosive “big bang” in every other word of the passage! You are almost relieved to encounter the scary figure of John the Baptist in passing – this is someone you have heard about but what are you making of “The Word”/“The true light which … was coming into the world”? Today’s Gospel reading concludes at verse 14 with the dramatic proclamation the God’s Word has been born as a human being.  We have the advantage of knowing that John the Gospel writer is talking about Jesus, “the Word made flesh” but the first readers/listeners had to wait for verse 29 to find out!  Imagine how we would be feeling if we had never read or heard this passage before – awed and waiting to encounter Jesus.  But for all of us, first time readers/listeners or not, the  exciting challenge still springs out from both passages – to open our hearts and minds to seek and encounter God in Jesus, to follow Him and to become one with Him.