He That Follows Me Walks Not In Darkness

Today is Holy Saturday: Sabbatum Sanctum. Jesus is dead and buried, and lies in the tomb.

 

I prepare breakfast for the children, realising that today will be quiet and a time for reflection, as we move towards tomorrow's joy and celebration.

At the time of Jesus’ death there were many who waited by the cross expecting Him to be rescued. In fact, there were many who refused to believe He had actually died.

But the story of Easter is not theatrics. Without a real death there would be no real resurrection. It would just be another fantasy story. And the pain and suffering would never be believable.

The time we spend in church this evening serves as an important time for us to reflect upon the reality of Christ’s death. And it’s a time when we might reflect upon our own mortality.

Tonight, the Paschal candle that burns represents Christ, the light of the world: ‘I am the light of the world. He that follows me walks not in darkness.’ The beeswax, of which the candle is made, represents the sinless Christ, who was formed in the womb of His Mother. The wick signifies His humanity, the flame, His Divine Nature, both soul and body. There are five grains of incense inserted into the candle in the form of a cross. They recall the aromatic spices with which His Sacred Body was prepared for the tomb, and of the five wounds in His hands, feet, and side.

The vigil, which will begin in darkness, representing sin and death, is enlightened by the fire and the candle representing ‘Lumen Christi,’ the Light of Christ. The Church, the Mystical Body of Christ, the community of believers, is led from spiritual darkness to the light of His truth. Christ's baptism, which our own baptism imitates, is represented during the liturgy, by the blessing of the water of baptism, by immersing the candle representing His Body into the font. We recall the Apostle's Creed, ‘He descended unto the dead.’

Today is a day where we are suspended between two worlds: that of darkness, sin and death, and that of the Resurrection and the restoration of the Light of the World.

During the liturgy we recall God's sparing of the Hebrews, whose doors were marked with the blood of the lamb; we are sprinkled with the blessed water by which we were cleansed from original sin through Christ's sacrifice, and we repeat our baptismal vows, renouncing Satan and all his works.

We rejoice at Christ's bodily resurrection from the darkness of the tomb; and we pray for our passage from death into eternal life, from sin into grace, from the weariness and infirmity of old age to the freshness and vigour of youth, from the anguish of the Cross to peace and unity with God, and from this sinful world unto our Father in Heaven.

Our Easter candle is a reminder of the Risen Redeemer 'who shining in light left the tomb.' It is lighted each day during Mass throughout the Paschal season until Ascension Thursday.

Today is a day for us to reflect. It is a time to rest and prepare for His resurrection. As we offer our own private prayers and supplications, let us hold in our hearts all who have left us this year, especially through the cruelty of mankind. And we pray for those whose lives are in the balance, as they move from this world to the next.

If we have died with Him, tomorrow, as He promised us, we shall indeed see the new light of Christ.

.

I am the resurrection and the life. He who believeth in me shall live, even though he dies; and whosoever lives and believeth in me shall have ever lasting life. John 11:25-26

 

 

Why Do We Sometimes Celebrate Easter On Two Different Dates?


A Trafficked Child's Journey

Suffer The Children

As you cross the border from Hungary into Western Romania, the noticeable differences are instantaneous. The lights, when there are any, are much dimmer, there are never any children playing, and when you do see children, they're most often huddled in the train station trying to find warmth against the walls.

It's a stark contrast from all I see at home, or from what I saw during my recent visit to America. And whenever I'm at home, our family rituals include warm embraces, playing games, or making biscuits or cakes in the kitchen together. I'm not suggesting a Currier and Ives Christmas card scene, but it's certainly an image of warmth and security.

Interestingly, there's a controversial thesis by French historian Philippe Ariès , that claims my schmaltzy attitude towards my children couldn't really have existed until the seventeenth century. Aries argues that because child mortality rates were so high, parents were not able to make the sort of emotional investment that we do in our children. Until the early modern period, children were simply adults waiting to happen.

All of which suggests a rather different take on Jesus' claim that unless we become like children, we will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Unfortunately, most of the time, Christians over-sentimentalise the role of children in the New Testament. It easily becomes cloying chocolate-box stuff: Jesus praises children because they are wide-eyed, innocent and trusting - a perfect analogy for faith. Well, I have difficulty swallowing that image.

Aries tips us off to the insight that children play an important role in the teachings of Jesus because they were nobodies. Life was too tough to waste love on a child who might not survive - so children became insignificant, marginalised, and terribly vulnerable. This then, is the unsettling message of what Christians are called to become if they want to find the Kingdom of Heaven. They are called to side with the nonentities and the defenceless, not with the cute and cuddly. After all, that's the real message of Christmas: the creator of Heaven and earth gets born as a pathetic child by a disgraced mother in a grotty shed.

In countries where its people have been victims of tyranny and manipulation it is difficult to get that first foothold in the rung to climb from deep within the abyss. Most of the children are unable to communicate their needs and therefore remain victims of predator adults or of those fortunate enough to be picked first. And for others, their perception of safety comes from the warmth they find with other homeless children, deep within the bowels of earth, among the steam pipes that criss-cross the city.

As we face what meteorologists claim will be one of the coldest winters in two decades, perhaps it's time for us to forget the cringe-making kitsch of the Jesus 'friend-of-little-children' image we so conveniently create for ourselves. When Jesus spoke of the kingdom belonging to children, it was to children such as these.

Ever-watching Father: we pray for the suffering children whom we do not see. We know that Your eyes see their tears, that Your heart knows their sorrow, that Your hands can reach them now. We ask that You send friends for the lonely, food for the hungry, medicine for the sick, saviours for the enslaved, and rescue for the perishing. Grant us the wisdom to do our part, to leave our comforts behind and share our possessions. Lend them our voice, give them our food and love them with more than prayers. We ask this in the name of Your own child – Christ Jesus. Amen.

When We Need a Little Help

When Traditions Become Weights

Meet The Children

Buy Centuries of Childhood, by Philippe Ariès 

When Morning Dawns

There is the story of a young student who went to his rabbi with a question. ‘Rabbi,’ he asked, ‘how can we tell exactly the moment when night has ended and day has begun? Is it when it's so light that we can no longer see the stars in the sky?’

‘No, my son,’ said the rabbi. ‘That is not how we tell that night is ended and the day has begun.’

‘Then how can we tell?’ asked the boy.

The rabbi spoke softly: ‘We know that night has ended and day has begun when we look into the face of the stranger next to us and recognise he is our brother.’

With God there is no night but only day. For when God looks at you and me He always sees a much cherished child and never a stranger. There is nothing in us — nothing about us — that God does not see, and yet even on our worst days, God's attitude towards us — what He really thinks about us — never changes: ‘You are my dear boy, my dear girl,’ He says. ‘I love you, I'll never give up on you, and I’ll never call you a stranger.’

For those of us who have come face to face with our frailties and have seen and named our sinfulness, those words of the Lord are both comfort and healing, ‘you are my dear boy, my dear girl, and I'll never give up on you.’

But those words are more than comfort and healing for us. They are also God's mandate to us. God, in His gracious hospitality, has welcomed every single one of us inside the circle of His love and left no one outside. He is asking us to do the same. He is asking us to make the habit of hospitality the foundation of our lives. ‘As I have welcomed you into my life,’ He's saying, ‘so must you welcome one another and call no one stranger.’

How different every part of our lives could be if we refused to label anyone as ‘stranger.’ How different the way we'd drive and do business and even celebrate this liturgy. How different life could be if we said inside our heads, ‘I don't know her name, I don't know who he is--and I probably never will--but I do know she's my sister, and he's my brother. And I cannot call them strangers. I cannot fail to value them.’ How different life would be!

So let us pray for one another, no matter what our culture, or nationality, or political affiliation, or disability, or gender. Let us all be one in His name.

Heavenly Father, grant that the darkness will end for us all. In Your light may we look upon one another's faces and see there only brothers and sisters, always cherished as one family. Amen

.

Its So Easy To Judge

Finding Words Of Comfort The Children's Story

Moldova Prisons

Anglican Prayers

Anglicans

It's Tempting To Just Run Away

A man was walking down the street when he passed a house and saw a child on the porch, stretching to reach the doorbell. No matter how hard the little fellow tried, he couldn't reach that bell. So the man called out, ‘Hey, there, let me give you a hand.’ The man came up on the porch and rang the bell.

‘Thanks, mister,’ said the child, with a huge smile. ‘Now, let's run!’
 
Running away is a temptation that comes to us all. Sometimes, just for a moment, even the bravest of us would like to run away as hard and fast as we can because life seems just too much: needs of others, work, family issues, friends, exams, contracts, TV, and ourselves. Some days all of them or any one of them can make us want to run far and fast and let someone else clean up the mess. ‘Forget love and duty. I don't care what happens, just get me out of here!’

We've all thought it or said it, and sometimes we've done it. The temptation to run is real, and because it is real, it gives birth to a powerful kind of fear, the fear of being abandoned and left all alone.

We know only too well our own temptation to run, so it's only a short hop to the other side of the equation. What if everybody gets fed up with me, and runs away and leaves me all alone? What if God finally gets fed up with me, and leaves me all alone forever and ever? What if...?

The Eucharist is the Lord's answer to that terrifying ‘what if.’ In giving us His own body and blood to be eaten as often as we need it, Jesus is saying, ‘I'll always be here for you, and I'll never run away. Whenever you come to me, I'll nourish your spirit. I'll make you strong when you're weak. I'll be medicine for your heart, and I'll heal you on the inside when you've been wounded there.’

That's the promise Jesus made when He first gave us His body and blood, and it's the promise He renews every time we celebrate the Eucharist.

And what does He ask in return? Only that we not run away, not run away from our commitments or our challenges, not run away from ourselves or our need to change, and most especially, that we not run away from those who need us and those whom we serve.

At the moment of communion, as we raise up the host and proclaim ‘The Body of Christ,’ the Lord whispers to our hearts: ‘I'll always be here and always be enough for you. So promise me you'll never run away.’

And our hearts answer, ‘Amen. Yes, Lord. I know You are here; and You will always be enough for me. I promise I'll never run away. Amen, Lord. Amen.’
Gracious Lord, give us the strength to stand and the strength to lift others through Your love. There is no weight too heavy when Your hands guide us. Amen

.

Same Old Story Moldova Prisons

Falling In Love At Clapham Junction

Visit Our Children

Anglican Prayers

We All Fail Sometimes

There's a tradition which says that the Apostle Peter was in Rome when the Emperor Nero started a savage persecution of the Christian Church in 64 AD. Rome was on fire, and Peter started walking away from the burning ruins. He set out along the Appian Way, an old man now, weary from all his journeying, when Jesus met him, going back in the direction of the city.

'Quo vadis, Domine?' ('Where are you going, Lord?') Peter asked Jesus. 'I go to Rome to die for you,' came the reply. Peter, we're told, stopped and turned round slowly, and this time he didn't fail: he went back to Rome and death. Indeed when they came to crucify him, he asked to be executed upside down because he felt unworthy to die in the same position as his Lord.

God's call - it's worth reflecting on the character of the disciple whom Jesus called to be the founder of His Church.

Peter wasn't one of those superhuman perfect beings who make you feel inferior as you contemplate their holiness and upright behaviour. In fact, Peter didn't make a very good Christian, and the Bible doesn't try to pretend otherwise. All through his life he was constantly failing, making a mess of things, letting down those he loved. Yet so often he picked himself up and carried on.

There are times when we all go through times of frustration and disillusionment. I think it's during those times in particular, I thank God for Peter, the one who despite his failures, never gave up the struggle.

Lord God, give us the persistence of Peter, that we may be brought daily nearer You, and fitted as may best be for the life of Heaven. Amen.

.

.

When The Church Sins

You Needn't Look Far

It Costs Nothing to Care

.

Killing For Jesus

More than anyone else, Jesus understood the human heart. And as He looked into the future, He could see the troubles that His followers would have to face, sometimes because of their own blindness and sometimes because of the self-deceptions and rationalisations of others.
.

‘A time will come,’ He said, ‘when anyone who puts you to death will claim to be serving God!’ What an extraordinary statement and what an accurate prediction of what has happened again and again across the centuries. In our own times we’ve heard more than once that cynical injunction to ‘kill a commie for Jesus.’ And more frighteningly, today, people are adapting the phrase for almost anything- homosexual, Muslim, Jew, black- the list is endless.

.

What could be further from Jesus’ vision? He urges us unceasingly to enlarge the circle of our love and concern until there’s room for everyone inside and no one is left outside - not even those with whom we differ on the most fundamental and crucial of issues.

.

Whenever you feel an attack of self-righteous indignation coming on, just remember how often in the past you have been thoroughly wrong in your judgements and entirely mistaken in your strongly held opinions. And then leave the judging and the punishing to God, who sees things ever so much more clearly.

As you begin to see yourself more clearly with the passing of time, you’ll be glad you stayed your hand.

Gracious Lord, teach me to be compassionate in all my ways; helping me to pray for others with empathy,  knowing that You care for all Your children.

What Is A Fundamentalist?

With Me and Within Me

Big World Small Boat

It Costs Nothing To Care

Along our seafront there is small nursing home converted from an old house. Residing there is a lady named Joan. She is one of the most faithful people that I know, as well as being one of the most elderly. Crippled by arthritis she now lives out her life serving as a listening ear. Joan has little tangible items to share with others, but she gives freely of what she has. She spends hours listening to the other residents and to those who ostensibly care for her and its easy to see why people trust her. 
.

Older people in biblical times were recognised and valued for their wisdom in a way that has largely been lost today. There is a story in Luke's Gospel about how the infant Jesus was recognised by two older people: 
.

’There was in the Temple a man whose name was Simeon, and this man was righteous and devout. And there was the prophetess Anna who was of a great age.. She did not depart from the temple, worshipping with fasting and prayer night and day.’ In their later years these two elderly people spent most of their time just looking and listening, simply watching for signs of God's activity. They made the time and they had the patience to be very attentive to the smallest signs of hope. Both Simeon and Anna knew who Jesus was instantly and they prayed over him and thanked God for him.
.

In a world where we often devalue the gifts of the elderly and encourage people to delay their retirement, it is good to be reminded of the importance of taking time just to notice what is happening in our lives.
.

Lord God, You are patient and wise and You always hear our prayers. Help us to use the time we are given well. Thank You for those who listen to and encourage. Help us to cherish the gifts of wisdom and serenity and to be attentive to the need of others today. Amen

Have I Told You Lately That I Love You?

So What is a Good Death?

Comforting Words for the Dying

Suffering Children

Life's A Puzzle

One of the perennial mistakes we can make is trying to figure out what God is thinking and why God did this or didn't do that. It gets us in all kinds of trouble, sometimes even causing us to doubt that God really cares for us or even bothers to give us a second glance after creating us.

That's the bad idea that the deists of the enlightenment wandered into and there are plenty of equally bad ideas about God still circulating. Believe me, I hear quite a few just in the rounds I make!

The crunch can come when we face a tragedy like cancer, or the death of a child, or the sudden strike of the insidious disease MS. And we can really go over the top when we think about the Holocaust or the thousands of children who are battered, abused, trafficked, and discarded in countries around the world.

'I want answers and I want them now!' we may in effect be shouting. If so, we're wasting our breath, for our time is not God's time, nor is our schedule God's. The Apostle Paul says it well: 'How inscrutable His judgments, how unsearchable His ways.'

So what are we left with? Both our faith in the goodness of God and our personal experience, part of it directly intuitive that God abides with us and never leaves, and that His love for us is undying. In the words of the poet, 'That's all you know and all you need to know.'


Loving Father, we do not presume to know Your plans. Help us to serve You without the weight of questioning Your love. Hold each of us in Your heart. Heal those who suffer from afflictions of illness, greed, vanity, lust, self-absorption, and those who use Your name to promote themselves. Teach us to learn to join hands to serve You each day and for every tomorrow. In Christ's name we pray. Amen

Caring for the Dying

When We Need a Little Help

Meet Our Children

World Trade Center and Events of September 11

Take Eat This Is My Body

Last week my son asked me to make bread rolls. It reminded me of my childhood, when I’d watch the wife of a man who looked after my horse, make bread.

I would take the train up to their small town, telling my mother that I was going to check on my horse. I'm not really sure why I bothered telling her as she really wouldn't have noticed I was gone anyway. But the truth was that I really missed Mrs Fowler’s cooking and I enjoyed being around her grown children who were all involved in equine activities.

Mrs Fowler was a simple woman, resolutely Baptist, full of life and full of Christ. I was always fascinated by her dedication to her Bible. It seemed as if virtually every passage in it had been underscored and before I went to sleep at night I would peek at her in their sitting room, napping in her chair beside the fire, with the open Bible serving as a blanket over her chest and her glasses hanging half-way off her face.

From her small kitchen in their simple country house Mrs Fowler could make the most marvellous breads in what appeared to be taskless seconds. And all the while she’d be singing sweet songs about her relationship with Jesus. I'd rise at five in the morning just to watch her in action, preparing what in my eyes was a feast for her family, but to her simply a labour of love.

It was quite a different world for this young Anglican mind to experience, as she'd drag me off to one of her Autumn night church services. And if the word 'confession' is appropriate in this context, it was the end of the service I actually looked forward to, when the local farm women would unwrap their fresh baked goods for the faithful to share. In my small eyes I saw this to be the communion which didn't quite seem to figure into a Pentecostal country Baptist service.

Several months before Mrs Fowler passed away I went to visit her. It had been nearly 25 years since I last saw her. I wanted to tell her that I believed she was the one who had planted the seed in me to start my own spiritual journey. And she was the only person who had given me the confidence to at least 'try' making bread.

But no matter how hard I tried, as a young person, I could never recreate those magnificent rolls she made. It was her art and it was her gift. A gift she openly shared; her communion for those she cared about and loved.

That was long ago. Today whenever I make my bread, my mind is flooded with warm memories of Mrs Fowler. Typical guy; I’m probably much better at incinerating things on a grille than I am at baking, but I still enjoy the exercise.

It’s soothing on the soul and allows me time to make mental doodle marks in the air about things I want to write about. And kneading the bread - that tactile movement, can be quite comforting. Once done, I can set it aside and allow the yeast to do its stuff.

The function of yeast is fascinating. You mix it into a cup of warm water and stir a little: within minutes it begins to breathe, to swell, to soften, and come to life. Little plant spores - that's what yeast is: cocooned in their package until you come along with warmth and water and remind it that it's alive. Mixed with the flour, it begins to feed on it as well, growing and swelling. And in time it has evolved. It has risen to great heights, cresting over the top of the bowl.

Again you work with it, kneading it in your hands, forming it, moulding it, helping it to become what you want it to be. But before it can become bread something important must happen: The yeast must die.

In each place where the yeast spore has been, there will be a pocket of air-an acknowledgement of its death. And into the hot oven it will go. The yeast spores have given their life for the bread.

But their memory remains everywhere in the loaf. They shaped it. Their bodies gave it the power to rise. You even taste and smell them still, though they are gone: that flavour, unique to other breads, is what makes yeast bread so different.

Isn't that just like our relationship with Christ? "This is my body, which I have given for You." It cannot be at all unless I give my life for it. You are the body. You and I - and the bread; we are body together.

And I am in You and You in me. Amen

.

Father in Heaven, I submit myself to You. Guide me, be with me, lead me in all I do and all whom I serve in Your name, and always Lord God, help me to grow and walk within Your light. I pray this in The Risen Christ's name. Amen



Krisztus feltámadt! Írásos Bill atya gyűjteményéből. Imádkozunk az egészsége. LR

.

Are you suffering from spots or wrinkles?

When Traditions Become Weights

When We Need a Little Help