A crown of branches and twigs frame the dying sun on Warley Woods this evening. Today, we focus on the cross of Jesus. We hear the narrative of the Passion of Jesus. The word comes from the Latin 'passionem' which means 'enduring suffering'. It is the same root from which we get the word for someone who is a medical patient. WH Vanstone in his moving and profound little book Love's Endeavour, Love's Expense, reflects upon the passion of Jesus. He describes how Jesus is someone whose ministry is fired by action and initiative. He constantly is on the go and yet in control as he pours himself out for people. Walking, teaching, healing, breaking boundaries, bridging gaps, building up teams of disciples to carry on the work. All these things were Jesus as man of action, in control, living with purpose. And then, something shifts. Jesus goes from being the one who 'does to' and 'does for' others to being the one who is 'done to' and 'done for'. Jesus becomes the willing yet passive (another connection to the patient) person to whom things are done.
And in the readings today, we were reminded of the sheer physicality of the ways he was 'done to'. He was arrested, spat at, hit multiple times, mobbed by men of 'the cloth' and soldiers, mocked, forced to wear a crown of thorns, whipped and stripped, humiliated and crucified. Hatred when let loose develops a momentum of its own. In the news over night was the horrifying attack upon a young Kurdish Iranian asylum seeker who was repeatedly kicked in the head and left for dead by a gang of thugs, both men and women, in their 20s, in Croydon. As we sang 'O sacred head sore wounded' I could not get this young man out of my mind. Pray God he pulls through and is surrounded with love.
In our meditation upon Jesus' passion, we heard the account from Mark, whose Gospel's stark narrative tells us of Jesus' cry of dereliction: When
it was noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. At three o’clock Jesus cried out with
a loud voice, ‘Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?’ which means, ‘My God, my God, why
have you forsaken me?’
This cry is inspired by the opening words of Psalm 22. Here is Jesus finding words from deep within his tradition, words which spoke truth for him when his own words ran out. I leave you with a version of those words sung by our worship group this morning. When they finished, it was as if our words ran out. We just sat in silent worship.
Psalm 22
Words: Lee Ann Vermeulen-Roberts;
music: Eelco Vos
My God, my God
why have you left me here?
Where are you
now
when I need you near
to rescue me,
deliver me from fear,
please don’t
forsake me.
Lord answer me,
do you not hear my sighing?
All day and
night
my eyes are sore from crying.
I long for you
to keep my hope from dying.
I find no rest.
My God, my God
why have you left me here?
Where are you
now when I need you near
to rescue me,
deliver me from fear,
please don’t
forsake me, my God.
But I, my God,
lie powerless and weak.
I have no voice,
I have no strength to speak.
They scoff and
stare, have pierced my hands and feet.
My heart is
melting.
O Lord my God my
enemies despise me.
They steal my
clothes, they mock and compromise me.
“Where is your
God?” they taunt and terrorise me.
Don’t stay away.
My God, my God
why have you left me here?
Where are you
now when I need you near
to rescue me,
deliver me from fear,
please don’t
forsake me, my God.
At tonight's service of Evening Prayer we were blessed with an impromptu homily when one person arrived with a story to tell of the cross, which she shared with the small gathered congregation. She had a picture from a magazine of a tall television tower in Berlin, a city she has recently visited. She told us that when the Berlin wall was built, the Communists removed all crosses from the Eastern side. The symbol of the cross was not allowed. They also built this tall television tower, the tallest building in Berlin, as a symbol of power. Near the top of this is a globe. Little did they know that when the sun shines the light is reflected from this globe to form a cross. Apparently locals call it "the Pope's revenge".
ReplyDeleteAs we, too, sat in silence meditating on and looking at the bare, wooden cross standing next to the brightly coloured banner of the cross in the St. Katherine's chapel, the Berlin story reminded us that nothing can silence the power of the cross.
Jesus was forsaken in his time, but he is now too? As the children look forward to the Easter holidays, they make easter bonnets and decorate easter eggs. I wonder how many understand the significance of the easter egg; how many know the easter story? My daughter has chosen to portray the last supper in her entry for the easter egg competition. With her entry, she will place the story of Holy week, culminating in easter Sunday.
ReplyDeleteAs we go about our work this week, may our lives echo this prayer outside of church. May our song be the the work we do this week.
"Bless, O Lord, us Thy servants,
who minister in Thy temple.
Grant that what we sing with our lips,
we may believe in our hearts,
and what we believe in our hearts,
we may show forth in our lives.
Through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen."