Friday, 3 April 2015

On a personal note ...

Maunday Thursday is one of our holy Christian days, falling on the Thursday before Easter. It celebrates the Last Supper of Jesus with his disciples.  At St Mark's church we recognised this with a quiet, meditative service and this is the reflection that I read prior to our time of Holy Communion ...

It’s Holy  Thursday

Tomorrow is about death; 
          but tonight is about love.

Tomorrow is about betrayal  and fear 
          and confusion.
Tomorrow is about false accusation and 
          ultimately - death           
             - the death of Jesus on the Cross.

But tonight, well tonight is about love
   the love of Jesus for the disciples, 
        for his friends.

The love of Jesus for a community that 
          he was part of;  a community that 
          would grow from the little one gathered 
          around him this Holy Thursday into the
          communities of the last 2000 years;
   the community that we share here 
   this night.

Tonight is about love.

But what does Jesus’ love look like?

It looks like a group of friends gathered 
          around a table.

It looks like Jesus washing the feet of one 
          who would betray him.
       Getting close, touching feet,
       looking into their eyes, 
           whilst kneeling to serve.

Jesus' love looks like a cup full of wine and 
          a loaf of bread on a table.

It looks like those acts of love that created 
          the memories of who he was.

Memories of being a baby at Mary’s breast.
Memories of Wise Men who pointed his family 
          in the direction of safety. 
Memories of learning how to carve wood 
          with Joseph.

Memories of God his loving Parent who called 
          him on the journey of a lifetime.
Memories of the wilderness 
          where he spoke with his God.
Memories of John the Baptist 
          his childhood playmate and the one who 
               dipped him into a river for baptism.
Memories of his disciples, 
          those he called friends.

Memories of women who along the way 
          reminded him of God’s call in the 
              midst of his social situation.
Memories of children he loved and cared for 
          and of one special little boy 
             whose simple offering 
                helped him feed thousands.

Memories of sailing on the Sea of Galilee,
          and then taking his first steps out onto 
      the water, trusting that God would
         not let him fall.

Memories of speaking truth to power;
          even when the power was demonic 
             and pleaded for a new life.
Memories of anger that others didn’t, 
          couldn't love the way he did.

Memories of teaching, talking, 
          helping anyone who came his way.

Memories of the miraculous  … 
          the wonder and amazement as healing 
          took shape;  as the lame walked and 
          the blind recovered sight;  as the dead 
          were raised and captives set free.

Memories of stories  … 
that made sense to some
              confused others
                     changed lives
and angered some so much that this 
    would be the last night.

All of these memories hung in the air 
          that night in the Upper Room.
Mixed in with the water used to wash feet
   Sweet and sour like the wine
      Nourishing like the bread.

Tonight is not about death. 
          Tonight is about love.
Tonight is about the passing of the torch;
and the mystery of faith in a community 
   of friends and neighbours.

So let us prepare to come to the Table;
to remember God’s Love.
Let us see Jesus in the face of one another.    

Amen.

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