From The Rectory - And Did Those Feet … And did those feet, in ancient times, walk upon England’s mountains green. So begins William Blake’s ‘Jerusalem’. Last week, our feet walked, not on mountains, they are in short supply around here, but through the streets of Cambridge as Mary and I headed to an exhibition of work by William Blake and some of his European contemporaries. Blake worked in a time of revolutionary change. France became a Republic, abolishing the monarchy and executing the king on the way. England’s American colonies had successfully fought for their independence. Many looked for similar change here, with much of the material displayed reflecting themes of liberation; the people freed from the tyranny of traditional hierarchies in Church and State. It was, perhaps, timely to be viewing this work so close to Easter. Jesus’ death coincided with the Feast of Passover, the commemoration of the moment when God’s people were led out of slavery in Egypt to start their journey to the Promised Land. In Jesus’ day, many Jews were looking for another liberation to restore their freedom in their own land. This longing would lead to violent revolution and the destruction of the Temple. When the Roman governor, Pilate, asked Jesus if he was a king, Jesus replied My kingdom is not of this world, otherwise my followers would fight[1] Standing before Blake’s work, I reflected that every revolution, however well intentioned, however apparently successful, eventually opens the door to another tyranny. In Paris, Revolution turned to Terror; American history is chequered to say the least and, to this day, Jerusalem remains a city of conflict not peace. All this, said Satan as he surveyed the kingdoms of the earth, All this I will give you, if you only bow down and worship me.[2] Jesus chose a different road. Having prayed If there is a way, take this cup of suffering from me he then added Not my will Father, but yours[3]. Following his resurrection, Jesus appeared not in the Temple, nor before the Sanhedrin. Instead he appeared at his graveside, in the upper room, on the road; wherever he found his friends and followers. He neither offered nor encouraged compulsion. Instead he prayed, blessed, fed and washed feet - then encouraged his friends to find freedom in doing the same. We, too, live in troubled times but if the longed for peace seems out of reach, perhaps we are looking in the wrong place. The revolution Jesus ushered in began, continued and ended, not on the battlefield, but in the hearts of his followers. There it remains; to be found in loving service of the one whose service is perfect freedom[4]. Which road are your footsteps on? Rev’d Philip 14 April 24 [1] John 18:36 [2] Matthew 4:9 [3] Matthew 26:39 [4] Collect for Peace, Morning Prayer, Book of Common Prayer
FROM THE RECTORY - BE PREPARED The sky is grey, but for how long? This morning has seen blue sky and sunshine drift seamlessly into grey and back on a recurring loop. ‘Variable’ could be the best weather description. It is certainly not the day to go far without a coat, nor to leave the washing outside unattended. It is, simply, a day to be prepared. Last Sunday was Easter Day and, whatever your celebrations were like, we have no excuse for not being prepared. Easter is a movable feast; dependent on the Ecclesiastical Lunar calendar. Complex though this may be, the dates are published well in advance; we know, or can check, when it will happen (April 20th for 2025 if you are interested). We know, but Jesus’ first followers didn’t. Our Easter morning Gospel (John 20: 1-18) showed a distraught Mary Magdalene and some very puzzled disciples at the empty tomb. This Sunday, we have St John’s account of Jesus’ first appearance to his male followers (John 20:19 et seq) in the upper room later that day. Next week, we have St Luke’s account of the same evening (Luke 24:36 et seq). From these and other gospel accounts we can see that, despite all that Jesus told them before his arrest, both his execution and subsequent resurrection came as a total surprise. This was so far beyond their comprehension, they were not prepared. The surprises don’t stop there. Think of Peter, called to witness to the Roman Centurion, Cornelius (Acts 10) or Saul (Paul) encountering the risen Jesus on the Damascus Road. God, through Isaiah, once said I do a new thing …. Do you not perceive it (Is 43:19). God, as Jesus once said, is the God of the living (Mark 12:27) and living means change. Although many, perhaps most of the changes we face are predictable; he remains a God of surprises too. Looking out the study window once more I see that the grey sky has cleared and the sun has returned but I still won’t stray far today without a coat. Last Sunday was Easter, the Day of Resurrection. I was, just about, prepared to celebrate that day. However, if God calls me to a new thing, will I be able to perceive it? And what if he calls you? Rev’d Philip Easter 2
FROM THE RECTORY - SILENCE In the beginning was the Word. All things were made by him and without him nothing was made[1]. Silent night, Holy night[2]; How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given[3]. Have you ever noticed how much silence is claimed for Christmas; between the angel choirs and sundry other visitors? Jesus’ birth was a momentous occasion, worthy of an angelic choral outpouring and the sounds of creation rejoicing. Meanwhile, hymn writers envisage silence as much as noise. Jesus’ death, or rather the manner of his death, was equally momentous. This time, though, we might have expected, not the sound of rejoicing, but the terrifying, thunderous sounds of divine anger. The evangelists tell us that in the hours leading up to Jesus’ death darkness covered the land for 3 hours and the temple curtain was torn in two[4]; Matthew attributes this to an earthquake[5]. Apart from this there is nothing. I began this piece with an extract from the opening words of Saint John’s gospel; words familiar to us from countless services of lessons and carols. When John tells us that The Word became flesh he is, of course referring to the incarnation; the birth of Jesus. This weekend we mark both the death and resurrection of that flesh. Jesus’ death is accompanied by the usual human babble; from the crowds calling for his execution, to the sound of the executioner’s hammer. His resurrection is accompanied by silence. To the world at large there is nothing untoward; no angelic choirs, no real signs of divine wrath, nothing that speaks of a life and death battle in heavenly places. Perhaps this is why both the cross and the empty tomb pass largely unnoticed. Humans make a noise, God comes and goes in silence. Rev’d Philip Good Friday to Easter [1] Jn 1:1, 3 [2] Carol, Silent Night [3] Carol, O Little town of Bethlehem [4] Lk 23:44 [5] Matt 27: 51