Sunday, 27 April 2025

A faith in touch

Acts 5.12-16 More than ever believers were added to the Lord, multitudes of both men and women.

Revelation 1.9-11a,12-13,17-19 ‘I died, and behold I am alive for evermore.’

John 20.19-31 Eight days later, Jesus came.

 

‘Put your finger here, and see my hands;

and put out your hand, and place it in my side’

(John 20.27).

 

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The papacy of the late Pope Francis, whose funeral took place yesterday, was marked by bold gestures.

One of the most moving and affecting moments of his papacy was when he reached out and embraced a very disfigured man who many others, myself included, might have passed by, looked away from or stared at.

In this he was consciously echoing the example of Christ.

Jesus’ ministry is one that is in touch with people.

When Jesus heals someone so often the gospel writer tells us that he touched the person concerned.

In our times, as people become more remote from each other, and buffered by suspicion, hostility or fear, the sense that we are in touch with each other diminishes.

Increasingly people of different opinions, views and perspective won’t go near someone who has differing opinions, views and perspectives out of fear for the consequences.

I was on the London Underground on Friday evening and mused how Covid seemed to train us to be more distant and less in touch with other people.

And then the word ‘touch’ is regularly prefixed by the word ‘inappropriate.’

Human beings aren’t in touch anymore, we are losing our sense of touch.

Increasingly we are losing touch with God too.

The WEIRD world - WEIRD being the mnemonic for Western, Educated, Industrialized, Rich and Democratic – our weird world seeks salvation in the very technologies that drive us apart, that shield us off from other people.

The smartphone is the icon of this.

Social networks have created more loneliness, fear and suspicion than they have connection and sociability.

Experiencing something means having a photo of it.

An advert for cruises says ‘experience the world in comfort’: sitting back on an armchair on the deck of a cruise liner may be comfortable but it is not experiencing the world.

We have to ‘create memories’, rather than participate in something and thus remember it.

Virtual reality sounds exciting and fun, but it’s what it says it is: virtual; not real.

I could go on.

Little wonder we become disenchanted.

What Pope Francis did - in embracing the disfigured, showing a kind touch to the sick, washing the feet of prisoners, giving space to the homeless - imitated the Lord who is in touch with us.

That is experiencing the world: embracing its pain, not observing it mediated by others.

Our readings today, especially the Gospel, turn us away from the unreality of modernity and technology towards the real and embodied, to things that we can touch.

The reading from the Acts of the Apostles speaks of signs and wonders performed that bring healing.

This is an exercise of divine power, what the New Testament calls, in Greek, δύναμις (dunamis), it’s where we get the word ‘dynamic’ from.

It’s worth just pausing on that for a moment: the healing dunamis of Christ is transmitted and entrusted to his Apostles.

Is the Church dynamic today, in the sense of receiving and transmitting the healing power of the touch of Jesus Christ?

We believe in an Apostolic Church: do we really believe in the healing power of Christ? Or is it a half-buried memory or just a bit embarrassing?

I wonder.

Pope Francis embodied the mercy and healing power of Christ: he was utterly unembarrassed by it, and nor should we be.

Such is the power of the touch of Jesus that even the shadow of the apostles falling on someone brought healing.

St Teresa of Avila tells us:

Christ has no body on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes with which he looks compassionately on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good.

The dunamis of Christ is given to his Church: we just have to put ourselves in touch with it.

Don’t pray for world peace, without being a person who is a channel of peace.

Don’t pray for healing, if you are not ready to be a healed healer; someone who knows how to bring healing and to receive healing.

Do pray!

Payer is about putting ourselves in touch with the power of the living Lord.

The reading from Revelation describes a vision born out of the intensity of encounter with the Lord in prayer.

He heard a voice, speaking personally to him, he saw the one like a son of man, in heavenly brilliance, he fell down at his feet in worship and adoration.

Hearing, seeing, falling down in adoration are all actions of the body, in reality of experience and participating in the mystery.

And that takes us to Thomas.

Jesus, who touched the sick, allowed the spiritually sick Thomas to touch him: ‘put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side’ (John 20.27).

Our faith is one that is in touch; in touch with the visible and invisible realities of the world.

When, like Thomas, we are in touch with the Crucified and Risen Lord then we receive and transmit the power of being witnesses to the world that Christ is Risen, ‘the first and the last, and the living one’ (Revelation 1.18)

It’s not enough to hold general principles or ‘values’: the world needs a Christian Church in touch with the needs of the materially and spiritually poor: then we are the Good News the Gospel proclaims.

Our faith, the faith of Thomas and the apostles, is not a virtual reality faith, not a metaverse faith, it is an in touch faith, what we call an incarnate and sacramental faith made up not of ethereal spirits, but real bodies.

Real bodies that offer bread and wine to receive the presence and life of Christ; real bodies that are anointed with oil for healing and protection; real bodies that are drenched in life-giving water for washing away sins.

Our adoration and worship is not remote or virtual but intimate and a real presence in Christ’s presence.

Christ is risen bodily from the tomb. Come let us adore him: may we be empowered by the Spirit of the one of whom we say: ‘My Lord and my God’ (John 20.28).

Sunday, 20 April 2025

Life with the stone rolled away - An Easter Day sermon

Acts 10.34a, 37-43 ‘We ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead.’

Colossians 3:1-4 ‘Seek the things that are above, where Christ is.’;

John 20.1-9 ‘He must rise from the dead.’

 

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We have just heard that Mary Magdalene arrived, that first Easter morning, while it was still dark to find the stone had been taken away from the tomb where Jesus’ dead, lifeless body had been placed.

Something brought her there; quite what it’s not clear other than to be near the body of Jesus.

We come, in the light of day, to this church this morning and we too find no stone blocking the way, but the doors – literal and figurative – open: open to the light and life of the Crucified and Risen Lord.

The tomb is open and empty: Christ, the Lord of life, is not to be found in places of death; he is life; he brings life.

What do you do with that?

You may think you decided to come to church this morning; but in fact, you are responding to a call, the call of the Crucified and Risen Lord.

It may be a call you can’t articulate, but it’s there all the same, calling you on a level you may not know or comprehend.

It’s a call to life.

It’s a call Mary Magdalene heard in her heart, that drew her, through her tears, to the tomb that early morning.

It’s the call that drew Peter and John running to the tomb, not knowing what they’d find there.

You’re here, I’m here - in this place that proclaims life in all its abundance - called by the Author of Life itself.

And there’s another stone that now needs rolling away.

The challenge for us today, responders to the call of Christ, is to embrace that fully, to open the doors of our hearts, to have the stone that holds death within us taken away and let life flood our lives.

What does that look like?

Our second reading helps us: ‘If you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God.’ (Colossians 3.1)

Rolling the stone away is about elevating your mind above the deathly ways of the world into the life-giving way of Christ.

The experience of the disciples on the first Easter morning was one of perplexity, confusion, bewilderment.

They still hadn’t got it: as the evangelist says, ‘as yet they did not understand the Scripture, that he must rise from the dead.’ (John 20.9)

Be ye sure, coming close to the Crucified and Risen Lord means we can’t see life in the same way again.

Be sure that perplexity gives way to trust in God’s faithfulness.

Peter, who was perplexed on the first Easter Day, comes to proclaim, as we heard in the first reading, that ‘to [Jesus] all the prophets bear witness that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.’ (Acts 10.43).

In other words, there’s no need for perplexity: the prophets are witnesses, and, Peter might add, Jesus told you all this in person too!

And the response of faith leads to our forgiveness; the lifting of the millstone of deathly ways from around our necks: it’s ‘the freedom of the glory of the children of God.’ (Romans 8.21)

This is the faith of the Church; this is the Christian faith.

The Resurrection of Christ is the guarantee that all that went before is vindicated - his life anointed ‘with the Holy Spirit and with power’, that ‘he went about doing good and healing all who were oppressed by the devil’ – even his being put to death on the wood of the cross – all is now vindicated.

This is not just some metaphor of fresh chances, new beginnings or springtime.

If the resurrection is only a metaphor; well, to hell with it. (cf Flannery O’Connor)

If the resurrection is only a metaphor, what a delusion it is.

Make no mistake, Christ is risen from the dead.

As St Paul points out in customary directness in his first letter to the Corinthians:

If Christ has not been raised, then our preaching is in vain and your faith is in vain. (1 Corinthians 15.14)

I should shut up and you should go home!

He carries on:

And if Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile and you are still in your sins. (1 Corinthians 15.17)

How pitiable we would be.

But in fact, says Paul, Christ has been raised from the dead.

We are not now locked in to Adam’s sin, the condition of life that is bound in to deathly ways with a stone rolled across it.

Rather ‘in Christ shall all be made alive’ (1 Corinthians 15.22), that’s when we allow the stone to be rolled away, when we step out into the daylight and ‘walk as children of light’.

The letter to the Ephesians nails it, and what our lives become in Christ:

for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord. (Ephesians 5.8-10)

What brought you here today? The call of light; the call of all that is good and right and true; the very call of resurrection life.

Alleluia. Christ is risen.

Saturday, 19 April 2025

Christ who lives in me - The Vigil of Easter

Genesis 1.1,26-31a The Creation

Exodus 14.15-15.1 ‘The people of Israel went into the midst of the sea on dry ground’

Ezekiel 36.16-17a, 18-28 ‘I will sprinkle clean water on you ands I will give you a new heart.’

Romans 6.3-11 ‘Christ, being raised from the dead, will never die again.’

Luke 24.1-12 ‘Why do you seek the living among the dead?’

 

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What has just unfolded before us tonight?

It’s a bit of a shock to those who have never attended this service before, and it is so very different from the orderliness and stability of our regular worship: but then Easter disrupts settled patterns and assumptions all round.

There has been drama and performance and texts.

This is not theatre, but the Church’s time-honoured way of revealing mysteries that don’t just speak to our heads, but speak to our hearts, and all our senses, for tonight, in this proclamation of Easter, life and light flood our lives, our whole being.

We have gathered around the primordial element of fire, with its sparks, leaping flames, heat and light.

The fire evokes the pillar of fire that led the Israelites from their slavery in Egypt; the fire of the Burning Bush in which Moses encountered the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob; the fiery furnace into which the three young men were thrown because of their faithfulness to the faithful God who preserved and delivered them.

The flames evoke the disciples on Easter Day whose hearts burn within them as Jesus unfolds for them the scriptures on the Road to Emmaus; the Day of Pentecost and the tongues of fire that dance upon the apostles’ heads, not burning them but setting them on fire with zeal for the Gospel.

From the fire in its wildness we light the luminous Paschal Candle that burns as a witness to the Risen Lord and the light he sheds on our hearts and minds, and illuminates our reading of the scriptures.

And, haven’t we had a good dose of scriptures tonight!

The Exultet gave us the broadest sweep of salvation history, distilled from scripture, and its power in us now, tonight: represented in this Paschal Candle.

We have heard afresh the Creation born out of life-giving water, as we celebrate the New Creation in Christ.

We have heard afresh the Exodus of the Israelites from Egypt, as we celebrate our own deliverance, in Christ, from the slavery of sin.

We have heard afresh of the prophetic promise that God will replace Israel’s heart of stone with a heart of flesh; as we celebrate the new and contrite heart that expands and beats with love in Christ.

All this, we believe, points us more deeply to the rich meaning of the Christian life, a life initiated, refreshed and made sense of in baptism, which took us to St Paul’s letter to the Romans.

It is, as it were, his meditation on the encounter we have with the Crucified and Risen Lord.

The key to the experience of the Resurrection is in the language of being buried and being raised.

The same thing, he says, is going on when we are baptised.

We are sacramentally experiencing death and resurrection, so that ‘we too may walk in newness of life’.

The Sabbath Day was the day when Jesus’ body rested in the tomb: and it was to that tomb that those women came.

And thanks be to God for the myrrh bearing women – Mary Magdalene, Joanna, Mary the mother of James, and other women whose names we don’t know - because their devotion and faithfulness blessed them through something prophesied but utterly perplexing.

They did not find Christ’s dead body, as they had expected, but they became the first to hear the greatest proclamation of them all: ‘He is not here, but has risen’.

The evangelion, the Good News of the Gospel flows from that empty tomb; what seals Christ’s incarnation, ministry, passion and death is an unsealed empty tomb and the proclamation: ‘He is not here, but has risen’.

This Good News proclamation shapes the Christian life finds its home in the liturgy, in our worship.

As one writer puts it:

Evangelization is the first touch that starts someone on that journey; evangelization is the nurturing of that initial conversion into a full-blown conformity to Christ; evangelization drags the Christian through the font and deposits him at the foot of the Eucharistic altar where communion with Christ is attained. (David W Fagerburg, ‘From Divinization to Evangelization’ in Divinization: Becoming Icons of Christ Through the Liturgy, p27)

The ‘dragging through the font’ of Baptism is a thoroughly Easter Sacrament, it encapsulates the Mysterium Paschale, the Paschal Mystery which is proclaimed tonight.

Hence why we will refresh the promises of our own baptism: we renew a covenant tonight.

The Exultet speaks of tonight being the night, ‘when things of heaven are wed to those of earth, and divine to the human’.

That’s why tonight we are ‘deposited at the foot of the Eucharistic altar where communion with Christ is attained’.

I began by referring to the primordial element of fire, I’ll end with the primordial element of water.

Just as we stood outside by a fire, shortly we will stand by a fountain, a pool, the font with the water of baptism.

We didn’t get burned, but we will get wet!

This is the saving, life giving water, into which we plunged in baptism and from which we are raised in Christ.

Baptism effects the heart of the Easter Gospel:

Death has no dominion over Christ, so you also must consider yourself dead to sin and alive to God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 6.11).

In the midst of the drama, the many layers of meaning, there it is: ‘Christ is not here. He has risen.’; ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.’ (Galatians 2.20).

Friday, 18 April 2025

Seven Words from the Cross - Good Friday Homiles

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In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

ONE

 

In this time before the Sacred Liturgy of Good Friday I am going to offer meditations on The Last Seven Words of Jesus from the Cross.

 

A hymn captures well what is at the heart of this Devotion.

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

The First Word: ‘Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.’

 

Two others also, who were criminals, were led away to be put to death with him. When they came to the place that is called The Skull, they crucified Jesus there with the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. Then Jesus said, Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do. (Luke 23.32-34)

 

Do you have the capacity to forgive? Do you know yourself to be forgiven? And if you do what does that look like in your life?

 

Jesus, true God and true Man, reveals to us the depths of divine forgiveness and also the call and capacity, to us frail human beings, the need to forgive.

 

Throughout his earthly ministry Jesus is forgiveness personified.

 

He teaches us to pray, ‘forgive our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us’.

 

He declares forgiveness to those whose lives are marred and disfigured by sinfulness.

 

The forgiveness he offers is scandalous to the religious authorities, for they reason that only God can forgive sins.

 

And of course, they are quite right.

 

Only God can forgive sins, so it is entirely proper that the Son of God, Jesus Christ, forgives sins.

 

Yet they, like the culture of today, cannot see him, and until they see models of forgiveness in the people marked with the sign of the Cross, will not come to know ‘Jesus, our Love, is crucified’.

People in our culture flounder around not knowing what they are doing.

 

Demands for apologies, indignant finger pointing at the frailties of others, shaming and blaming: forgiveness is far from our increasingly de-Christianised culture today.

 

That just cannot be for someone marked by the sign of the cross

 

St Peter tried to get his head around this, ‘Lord, if another member of the church sins against me, how often should I forgive? As many as seven times?’ Jesus said to him, ‘Not seven times, but, I tell you, seventy-seven times.’ (Matthew 18.22-24).

 

If you want to see what forgiveness unbounded looks like; look to the cross of Jesus Christ.

 

This forgiveness inspires others to do the same, those who recognise that forgiveness is ultimately the courageous path.

 

Christianity preaches a high ideal of forgiveness; we are familiar with it. Yet to see it put into practice is always astonishing.

 

As St Stephen, the first Christian martyr, is being bludgeoned to death by rocks, He gazes into heaven and sees the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. It is from this vision of humanity at one with God in the risen and ascended Lord that Stephen cries first, ‘Lord Jesus, receive my spirit’ – echoing the seventh word from the Cross - and then Stephen fell to his knees and declared ‘Lord, do not hold this against them’. It is a declaration of forgiveness.

 

Diane Foley has spoken of forgiving the murderers of her son James, who was a war correspondent in Syria in 2014. From their faith the Foley family decided not to give into bitterness and to extend a hand of forgiveness. Mrs Foley met one of Jim’s captors in 2022, and afterwards said: ‘If I hate them, they have won. They will continue to hold me captive because I am not willing to be different to the way they were to my loved one. We have to pray for the courage to be the opposite.’ 

 

Let us pray.

 

In the Crucified One we see forgiveness unbounded, Father forgive us in our floundering and give us the capacity and courage to forgive those who sin against us.

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.


 

TWO

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

The Second Word: ‘This day you shall be with me in paradise (Luke 23.43).’

 

One of the criminals who were hanged there kept deriding him and saying, ‘Are you not the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’ But the other rebuked him, saying, ‘Do you not fear God, since you are under the same sentence of condemnation? And we indeed have been condemned justly, for we are getting what we deserve for our deeds, but this man has done nothing wrong.’ Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘This day you shall be with me in Paradise.’

 

In our Creed we proclaim that we believe in the life of the world to come.

 

In this second word from the Cross we see a remarkable thing; a criminal is assured not only that there is paradise, heaven, the place of eternal comfort and bliss, but that in that moment of pleading Jesus grants the criminal entry into his kingdom.

 

So we can say, with confidence, that we believe in the life of the world to come.

 

In another place in the gospels the disciples (Matthew 20.17-28), James and John, who believe the promise of heaven, and drawing in their mother to bat on their behalf, have begun working on a seating plan.

 

They place themselves on the top table.

 

Did they never hear the parable that speaks of entering the wedding banquet – an image of the kingdom and of Paradise – and sitting at the lowliest place so that one might be summonsed forward, hearing the beautiful words, ‘Friend, come up higher’? (Luke 14.10-11)

 

Instead we see someone who has no place in the world’s eyes, a crucified criminal, hanging next to Jesus who repents of his sins, and utters words that should be on our lips moment by moment, shaping our souls, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom’.

 

Turning to the Crucified One in penitence and humility is the entry point into the kingdom that is his, the entry point to Paradise.

 

In this agonisingly beautiful encounter, Christ the New Adam, is restoring fallen humanity to the Garden of Eden, Paradise itself.

 

Man’s arrogance and grasping at equality with God, wanting to be on top table with God, eating of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, saw Adam and Eve driven out of Paradise (Genesis 3.24).

 

The naïve ambition of many today is seek Paradise without God, thinking that this form of government, that form of strategy, this ideology will solve our problems.

 

This second word tells us that the entry point to the kingdom is through penitence, humility and reliance on the Crucified One, ‘Jesus, remember me, when you come into your kingdom’. Then as those crucified with Christ we will hear his words, This day you shall be with me in Paradise’.

 

Let us pray.

 

In the Crucified One, we behold the man who came to serve not to be served and to give his life a ransom for many. Father, may we hear your Son’s call to life in Paradise in all its abundance. Amen.

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.

 

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THREE

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

The Third Word: ‘Behold your Son; behold your mother’ (John 19.26, 27)

 

Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’

 

‘Behold, your son; behold your mother.’ These words entrust one person, Mary, to another, John, the Beloved Disciple, they form a new relationship.

 

Man was never intended to be solitary. We are not closed off automatons, buffered from our fellow men and women, we are created for relationship and intimacy, irrespective of our condition of life .

 

From the moment Adam saw the helpmeet God had provided in the woman Eve, this interdependency of human relationships is revealed and patterned on our lives.

 

The human child is utterly at one with her mother in the womb, bound by the life-giving umbilical cord, as Christ was to his Mother, Mary.

 

Similarly the dependence the child has on its parents. This is reflected in words from the prophecy of Hosea:

 

When Israel was a child, I loved him,

   and out of Egypt I called my son.

Yet it was I who taught Ephraim to walk,

   I took them up in my arms;

   but they did not know that I healed them.

I led them with cords of human kindness,

   with bands of love.

I was to them like those

   who lift infants to their cheeks.

   I bent down to them and fed them.

            Hosea 11.1,3-4

 

Marriage is the sacrament sees the coming together of a man and a woman, and signifies something deeper. Marriage takes them beyond friendship to become one flesh signifying both the relational character of being human and, more deeply, the mystery of the marriage of the Church, the Bride, to Christ, the Bridegroom.

 

Christ comes to restore not the umbilical cord to our earthly mother but to our Heavenly Father.

 

Christ comes to hold our hand as companion and friend, Lord and Saviour, to lead us through the valley of the shadow of death.

 

Christ comes as the Bridegroom calling his Bride the church, to be consummated at the fulfilment of all things, as described by the Revelation to John:

 

‘Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away, and the sea was no more. And I saw the holy city, the new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband.’

Revelation 21.1,2

 

Jesus’ Third Word from the Cross institutes that Divine Mystery of the Church, his Body. ‘And from that hour the disciple took Christ’s Blessed Mother into his own home.

 

In this Third Word relationship is restored, we enter with Mary and the disciple into the unfolding drama of God where we find our own preferences and egos are subdued and put to death on his Cross.

 

There is nothing more intimate than the Divine-Human nature of Christ, through our membership of the Church, nourished by the Sacraments we grow into the perfect union of love that he calls us to.

 

In the Crucified One, true God and true Man, we see the unity of all things. Father, may we know always our dependence on your Son in the company of all the saints. Amen.

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.

 

 


 

FOUR

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

Our fourth word: My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? (Matthew 27.46)

 

From noon on, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And about three o’clock Jesus cried with a loud voice, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ that is, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’ (Matthew 27.45,46)

 

Of all the books of the Old Testament the one most frequently on Jesus’ lips is the Psalms. Jesus’ cry from the cross is one such example.

 

This psalm, Psalm 22, articulates the depths of Jesus’ pain and the abandonment he feels on the cross.

 

The cry of Jesus is not an emotional outburst, but quoting the psalm he is both speaking of the agony he is undergoing for the sake of the world, but also his enduring trust in his heavenly Father, the God of Israel.

 

His word, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’, which the gospel writers retain in the original Aramaic, as do the translators, ‘Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?’ is the opening verse of Psalm 22.

 

That Psalm narrates the experience of abandonment and, at the same time, enduring hope. By quoting the first verse of the psalm Jesus points us to the whole text, which would be typical of the method of the Rabbis of his day.

 

Despite the deep sense of forsakenness – ‘O my God, I cry in the day-time, but thou hearest not : and in the night-season also I take no rest’ (v2) – still the psalmist acknowledges the majesty of God: ‘and thou continuest holy: O thou worship of Israel.’ (v3)

 

The psalm reflects on the way in which past generations have trusted in God and not been confounded. Yet it turns inward, as the psalmist reflects on his own inadequacy in the face other people who laugh scornfully and mock. Here we see Jesus the victim of the baying crowd, the man hanging isolated on the cross.

 

The mocking pass him saying, ‘He trusted in God, that he would deliver him : let him deliver him, if he will have him.’ (v8) Those words of the psalm sound from the foot of the cross as bystanders mock and ridicule Christ.

 

In the face of abandonment the human spirit moves to introspection, and the psalmist does that.

 

What can possibly be going through the mind of an innocent man: naked, broken, disfigured, alone and fighting for breath and his lungs fill with fluid? The psalm puts it like this:

 

I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint : my heart also in the midst of my body is even like melting wax.

My strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue cleaveth to my gums : and thou shalt bring me into the dust of death. (vs 14 & 15)

 

The psalm even describes what we understand to be crucifixion: ‘They pierced my hands and my feet; I may tell all my bones : they stand staring and looking upon me’. (v17)

 

Yet, and yet, comes a plea for deliverance, a plea rooted in the deep and enduring confidence that God is near at hand, and that to cry out to God even from the very depths will be heard: ‘[God] hath not hid his face from [me], but when [I] called unto him he heard [me].’ (v24b)

 

A psalm that begins in forsakenness ends in praise and assurance. This is the way of the Cross, the way of Christ. Through the cross our sense of abandonment and desolation can never be the end of the story when we cry out to God in faith.

 

Let us pray:

 

Lord, in times of desolation you are present with us. Father, may we draw on your strength and comfort in the midst of adversity and know the consolation of your loving presence.

Amen.

 

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.

 


 

FIVE

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

The Fifth Word: I thirst (John 19.28)

 

After this, when Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfil the scripture), ‘I thirst.’ A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So they put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth.

 

‘I thirst’ reveals the divine-human nature of the Crucified One.

 

It is a statement of physical need and of spiritual pleading.

 

Jesus’ cry echoes the cry universal to all human beings.

 

Our first cry in this life is ‘I thirst’ as a the cry to our mother, as we seek to feed at the maternal breast’.

 

Aching spiritual thirst is articulated beautifully in the Psalms:

 

LIKE as the hart desireth the water-brooks : so  longeth my soul after thee, O God.

My soul is athirst for God, yea, even for the living God : when shall I come to appear before the presence of God?

            Psalm 42.1,2

 

O GOD, thou art my God : early will I seek thee.

My soul thirsteth for thee, my flesh also longeth after thee : in a barren and dry land where no water is.

            Psalm 63.1,2

 

The heart of our faith and the testimony of the Gospels tells us that our thirst is quenched in Jesus Christ.

 

This is at the heart of the encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well. As he speaks to her, he is speaking into a thirsty world:

 

‘Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.’ The woman said to him, ‘Sir, give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty or have to keep coming here to draw water.’

John 4.13-15

 

That woman, and we, drink from deep sources as we entrust our lives to Christ, and with her we find the words of the Prophet Isaiah are true, ‘with joy you will draw water from the wells of salvation’ (Isaiah 12.1).

 

This cry of thirst on the cross is a pained cry.

 

Jesus is surely both thirsting for refreshment – he is dying through a uniquely draining tortuous execution – and thirsting for the salvation of the world, that is being effected in his Body.

 

This is a great mystery of our faith: as True God he pours out life-giving water; as True Man he thirsts.

 

On the last day of the festival, the great day, while Jesus was standing there, he cried out, ‘Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink. As the scripture has said, “Out of the believer’s heart shall flow rivers of living water.” ’

John 7.37, 38

 

Let us pray.

 

In the Crucified One we see the wellspring of salvation. Father, may we drink deeply of Christ’s love that from the temple of our hearts may flow rivers of living water. Amen.

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.


 

SIX

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

The Sixth Word: It is finished (John 19.30)

 

When Jesus had received the wine, he said, ‘It is finished.’ Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

 

All is now accomplished, completed,, finished. The Latin text of this word is ‘consummatus est’, it is consummated.

 

The word consummation is both a coming together and a beginning, and that helps us understand that when Jesus says ‘it is finished’ he is not saying ‘my project to change the world is finished and in the dustbin’, he is not saying, ‘I’m finished with those human beings, look what they’ve done to me’.

 

Rather, this is the moment of completion, of fulfilment, of accomplishment

 

The consummation is the uniting of heaven and earth on the pivot of the Cross. Christ the Bridegroom has consummated his relationship with humanity through his life-giving death on the Cross.

 

In John’s Gospel Jesus speaks often of his ‘hour. Not yet, not yet, but now.

 

Hanging between heaven and earth this is the completion hour.

 

Now he will drink the wine of the kingdom from the cup that comes to him.

 

And as he drinks his own lifeblood pours out of his head, his hands, his feet, and with water, from his side.

 

The redeeming, saving work on earth is finished, and now his Church is entrusted to proclaim and live out that task in his name, in the power of the Holy Spirit, to the glory of God the Father.

 

The Letter to the Hebrews states that, ‘[God’s] works were finished at the foundation of the world’ (Hebrews 4.3). What was completed at the Creation is consummated in the world through the saving death. The Revelation to John testifies that the Lamb of God, Jesus Christ, was slain from the foundation of the world’.

 

This sacrifice we see now, on the Cross of which Hebrews says again:

 

Christ did not enter a sanctuary made by human hands, a mere copy of the true one, but he entered into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God on our behalf. Nor was it to offer himself again and again, as the high priest enters the Holy Place year after year with blood that is not his own; for then he would have had to suffer again and again since the foundation of the world. But as it is, he has appeared once for all at the end of the age to remove sin by the sacrifice of himself.

            Hebrews 9.23-26

 

On the Cross the perfect sacrifice for sin is offered. What was lain down since the foundation of the world is consummated in his offering, ‘It is finished’.

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.

SEVEN

 

Seven times He spoke, Seven Words of Love;

And all three hours His silence cried

For mercy on the souls of men;

Jesus, our Love, is crucified.

Frederick William Faber (1814–1863)

 

The Seventh Word: ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit’ (Luke 23.46)

 

‘It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, ‘Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.’ Having said this, he breathed his last.’ (Luke 23.44-46)

 

The Creation narrative of Genesis completes each day of creation with the words, ‘and the was evening and there was morning… the first/second/third day, up to the sixth.

 

Jesus commends his spirit.

 

A ‘commendation’ according to the dictionary can mean the giving of formal or official praise:

‘the film deserved the highest commendation’; or it can be ‘an award given for very good performance’:

‘the soldiers received commendations for bravery’; or a commendation might be ‘a very good result in an examination or competition’.

 

But the commendation of Jesus’ spirit is not about a great performance, or heroic bravery – though he displays fortitude – and it is not about a commendation that is a good result.

 

When Jesus commends his spirit, it is an act of oblation, it is an offering. The life breath breathed into the nostrils of the first Adam by God, is breathed out by the New Adam who is himself God.

 

As Jesus Christ commends his spirit, that life breath and who he is, back to the Father he is announcing the coming Sabbath of his death, when his body will lie in the stillness of the tomb.

 

The writhing agony of crucifixion will be given over to the silent, limp, bloodied body that will be taken down from the cross.

 

At the Office of Compline, the last point of prayer in the day we sing ‘into your hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit’. And there was evening…

 

Then comes the promise of the morning: ‘For you have redeemed me, Lord God of truth.’

 

In the commendation of Jesus spirit to the Father, we are caught in the eternal pattern of death and birth, mortality, which we generally think of as birth and death, in that order. Yet as St Francis of Assisi notes, ‘it is in dying that we are born to eternal life’.

 

To commend one’s spirit to the Father, with Jesus, is to acknowledge that death is the gateway to life everlasting; that when I die to myself and all the masks I wear, the illusions I live by, the manipulations and self-deception I am prone to, then and only then will I wake to a yet more glorious day.

 

That is when I might make the words of the Lamentations of Jeremiah my own:

 

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases,

   his mercies never come to an end;

they are new every morning;

   great is your faithfulness.

‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul,

   ‘therefore I will hope in him.’

Lamentations 3.22-24

 

 

Let us pray:

 

Lord, you commend your spirit to the Father, and we pray that through the power of the Cross we might die to self to life to your glory.

Amen.

 

The Cross is my sure salvation.

The Cross I ever adore.

The Cross of my Lord is with me.

The Cross is my refuge.

Amen.

 

 


 

A reading from The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a Kempis.

 

Renounce self, take up your cross, follow Jesus.[1]

 

These words seem very hard, yet it will be much harder to hear those final words - go far from me, you that are a cursed, into that eternal fire.[2] The people who now gladly here and obey the words which bring them across will have no fear then of the words that mean eternal condemnation. When the Lord comes to judge, it will be the sign of the cross that is in the heaven. Then all the servants of the cross who win this life followed in the steps of the crucified Jesus will come before Christ the Judge with confidence and boldness.

 

So why are you afraid to take up the cross, when it leads us to the kingdom?

 

In the cross is salvation, in the cross is life; in the cross is defence from enemies, in the cross heaven’s sweetness is outpoured; in the cross is strength of mind, in the cross is joy of spirit; in the cross is highest virtue, in the cross is perfect holiness. There is no salvation for the soul no hope of eternal life except in the cross. Take up your cross then, and follow Jesus, and you will enter eternal life. He went before you, carrying his cross, and on the cross he died for you, so that you too should carry your cross, and long for a death on the cross. For if you share his death, you will also share his life.[3] If you are with him in his suffering, you will be with him in his glory.

 

All that matters is the cross and dying on the cross – there is no other way to life in real inward peace except the way of the Holy Cross, and of daily dying to sell. Go where you like, look for what you like, you will not find a higher way above or a safer way below in the way of the Holy Cross.

 

Even if you arrange everything to suit your own views and wishes you will always find that you still have to suffer something, whether you want to or not - the cross will always be there. If you do not suffer physical pain, you will have inward trials of the spirit: sometimes God will abandon you, sometimes your neighbour give you something to bear, and worse still, you will often be a burden to yourself. No remedy or comfort will be able to deliver or relieve you, but you will have to bear it as long God wills it so. For it is God’s will for you to learn to endure troubles without receiving comfort, so that you will submit entirely to him, and from this trouble learn humility. No one feels the passion of Christ in his heart as much as the man whose lot it is to suffer as he did.

 

So the cross is always close by and waits for you everywhere. You cannot escape it, wherever you may run; for everywhere you go you take yourself, and always you will find yourself. Look up or down, out or in, there too you will find the cross; and all the time you must go on being patient if you wish to have inward peace and to win a crown that will last forever.

 


 

Homily

 

The Passion Gospel lays bare before us the depths of the love of God in Christ and the extent he will go to for us. Shortly we will be invited to come forward to venerate the Cross of Christ. You may wish to touch, to kiss or simply bow your head in adoration and wonder.

 

As you do so, consider the love that God has for you, the words from the cross that speak to your heart.

 

In the time of preaching the Cross and meditation prior to this Liturgy, our focus was the Seven Last Words of Jesus from the Cross.

 

The words that Christ gave from the cross are powerful and moving and invite deep reflection.

 

St Teresa of Calcutta reflected on Jesus’ word, ‘I thirst’ and she wrote , ‘I thirst for you’ which I will read now. In this words she imagines Christ speaking directly to her soul, your soul and mine: may they take root in your heart and bring them to the foot of the Cross today.

 

I THIRST FOR YOU.

 

It is true. I stand at the door of your heart, day and night. Even when you are not listening, even when you doubt it could be Me, I am there: waiting for even the smallest signal of your response, even the smallest suggestion of an invitation that will permit Me to enter.

 

I want you to know that each time you invite Me, I do come always, without fail. Silent and invisible I come, yet with a power and a love most infinite, bringing the many gifts of My Spirit. I come with My mercy, with My desire to forgive and heal you, with a love for you that goes beyond your comprehension.

 

A love in each detail, so grand like the love I have received from My Father “I have loved all of you as the Father has loved me…” John 15:10

 

I come longing to console you and give you strength, to lift you up and bind all your wounds. I bring you My light, to dispel your darkness and all your doubts. I come with My power, that allows me to carry you:

with My grace, to touch your heart and transform your life. I come with My peace, to calm your soul.

 

I know you like the palm of my hand. I know everything about you. Even the hairs of your head I have counted. Nothing in your life is unimportant to Me. I have followed you through the years and I have always loved you even when you have strayed. I know every one of your problems. I know your needs and your worries and yes,  I know all your sins.

 

But I tell you again that I love you, not for what you have or ceased to do, I love you for you, for the beauty and the dignity My Father gave you by creating you in His own image. It is a dignity you have often forgotten, a beauty you have tarnished by sin. But I love you as you are, and I have shed My Blood to rescue you. If you only ask Me with faith, My grace will touch all that needs changing in your life: I will give you the strength to free yourself from sin and from all its destructive power.

 

I know what is in your heart, I know your loneliness and all your wounds, the rejections, the judgments, the humiliations, I carried it all before you. And I carried it all for you, so you could share My strength and My victory. I know, above all, your need for love, how much you are thirsting for love and tenderness.  Yet, how many times have you desired to satisfy your thirst in vain, seeking that love with selfishness, trying to fill the void within you with passing pleasures, with the even greater emptiness of sin.

 

Do you thirst for love?

“Come to Me all you who thirst … ” (John 7:37).I will satisfy you and fill you.

 

Do you thirst to be loved?

I love you more than you can imagine … to the point of dying on a cross for you.

 

I THIRST FOR YOU. Yes, that is the only way to even begin to describe My love for you.

 

I THIRST FOR YOU. I thirst to love you and to be loved by you. So precious are you to Me that I THIRST FOR YOU.  Come to Me, and I will fill your heart and heal your wounds. I will make you a new creation and give you peace even in your trials.

 

I THIRST FOR YOU. You must never doubt My mercy, My desire to forgive, My longing to bless you and live My life in you, and that I accept you no matter what you have done.

 

 



[1] Matthew 16.24

[2] Matthew 25.41

[3] Romans 6.8