Saturday, 15 March 2025

The fiery force - from the Lionesses to Hildegard of Bingen

2 March, Sunday next before Lent: Exodus 34:29-end, 2 Corinthians 3:12-4:2, 

and Luke 9:28-36

On Wednesday, there was a moment when the lights went out at Wembley. Only briefly.

Under the famous arch,  the crowd was buzzing. Long term fans, first timers, school groups, families and a cohort from Hendon had gathered to cheer on the Lionesses. 



Approaching Wembley

The European Champions were taking on Spain, the World Champions. The lights went out, phone torches lit up the stadium; the power came back, and there was, in the words of defender Millie Bright ‘fight and desire’. 

The ‘fight and desire’ for the team to ‘defend for each other, work hard for each other.’

Bright spoke of ‘togetherness’ and being on ‘a new journey’; ‘building connections’ and ‘creating even more chances’. 

What is true of football might also resonate with the life of faith - and indeed the new journey, connections and chances that Alma, Aryaneh and Yasamin embark on today. 

Today is just the beginning: you have promised to support them and build connections or togetherness as members of this household of faith, the body of Christ. 

In a moment, you will support them as they fight valiantly as disciples of Christ. This is not about matches or battles, but the fiery force of God’s love.

A love that sets us free and yet binds us together; a love that defends us and also builds deeper connections; a love that shapes our desires and creates more chances for forgiveness, possibility and new hope. 

In the words of another woman - not a lioness but a doctor of the church - Hildegard of Bingen:

This image of Divine Love spoke: I am the supreme and fiery force, who sets all living sparks alight.

Hildegard was one of the most influential women of the medieval period; or rather, one of the most influential figures of that age. 

She was a mystic and poet, composer and scholar. As Abbess of she was concerned about women’s health and wrote robustly to the then Pope about matters concerning her, her companions and her community.

In her ‘Book of Divine Works’ she records ten visions of encounter with God - beginning with a majestic figure of divine love, the life-giving force permeating the world.

We encounter such light, life and love in today’s readings.

There is pure joy and wonder, as if nothing would ever be the same having drawn near to the divine. 

Before we begin our Lenten journey, we are reminded of the ways in which humanity has encountered the glory of God.

For Moses, it was an experience that altered his very appearance. His face shone! He adopted a veil so that others might not be afraid to approach him.  Yet his face reveals a glimpse of God’s light and dazzling brightness visible to others. 

Paul though speaks of seeing God’s glory in the unveiled faces of others. He speaks of the way we are to mirror God’s love in our expressions, gestures; our body language and way of being. By the power of the Spirit, transformation is possible as we glimpse glory reflected in each other. 

Divine love - that fiery force - sets all living sparks alight. 

In our gospel, Peter and the other disciples glimpse something of the fiery force of divine love in such a way that it alters their perspective, rather than their circumstances. 

Jesus is seen alongside Moses and Elijah: in him is the fulfilment of the law of love and the prophetic vision of justice and mercy. Peter is so overwhelmed by the dazzling glory of this moment that he cannot simply allow the joy to enfold him.  

Insead, he wants to hold onto it, to capture it; he talks of creating dwelling places to fix the memory, akin to our tendency to see the world through the lens of a camera phone. 

We see through a filter rather than gazing directly; we capture the moment rather than being present in it.

Perhaps we can be too concerned to work hard and defend what is in front of us - to be consumed by pressures and deadlines - that we miss the spark, our heart’s desire, the love.

Peter reminds us that sometimes, we are invited to appreciate moments of joy and wonder for what they are. To appreciate them, to acknowledge the depth of feeling in that moment; to allow the goodness of the reflections of divine love we see in others to change us. 

After this mountain top experience of glory - more akin to Hildegard’s vision of divine love than the fleeting joy of a goal at Wembley - Jesus and the disciples return to the valley. They return to ordinary life - and to people longing for peace and wholeness, comfort and strength. 

We are to reflect light and love at those moments when the power goes out - when we face trials, uncertainties and disappointments. We encounter the living presence of God - the force that sparks life and light - in the ordinary stuff too. 

Our life together is built around the equivalents of the routine drills and training before the lights go on at Wembley: prayer and fellowship, breaking bread and practicing habits of gentleness, patience, kindness; in being forgiven and being a blessing.

When we’re shopping in Co-op or litter picking the churchyard; when we’re writing words for a deadline or supporting each other; a word of courtesy, noticing the other; our advocacy for someone else and their needs. 

We need joy and glory in our lives. The moments when divine love speaks saying ‘I have called you by name’; ‘you are beloved.’ Moments when we feel  ‘the supreme and fiery force, who sets all living sparks alight.’

But we cannot box it in or capture it. We cannot domesticate the wonder and beauty of God’s love. We cannot make that fleeting ‘high’ permanent. We won’t always leave the stadium on the winning side.

And yet, we will come down the proverbial mountain and know the joy and glory of the valley. 

Moses learns this as he teaches people how to live out the commands of love; shaping a community where there is honour and rest rather than lies and jealousy. 

Peter learns this as he walks with Jesus along the way of the cross: through brokenness and suffering to death and burial. His own denial must have felt a million miles away from the dazzling brightness of the mountain top. But the same Lord who’d told him to listen recalls him and restores him. 

Paul learns it as he writes to the Corinthians about not losing heart, seeking the truth and renouncing shameful behaviour; or, elsewhere, teaching them about sharing hospitality and being just and equitable in their dealings with others. 

This is the challenge of the journey we share together with  Alma, Aryaneh and Yasamin as those who are baptised: it is about bringing the love of God to places of sorrow and raising the sorrows to the heart of God. 

Our fight and desire is to defend and uphold the vulnerable; to work hard for each other - stranger or friend. 

Together we are to build connections of compassion; to create chances for cohesion. This fight and desire is that no one is left hurt and suffering. That is hard to imagine or make possible. And yet, that is where we are - more often in the shadow than the dazzling. 

There will be mountain top joys and valleys of struggle and the days of ordinariness or contentment. In all that Jesus abides with us. We are to keep looking for the sacred - the fiery force of divine love, no matter where the journey takes us. We are to walk in the light - noticing the other living sparks. 

I end with a quote from James Rebanks - reflecting on his experience of glory on a remote island, with Anna who cared for the eider ducks: 

We have to start somewhere… to go to work in our own communities and landscapes. We have to show up day in, day out, for years and years, doing the work… And we have to accept and keep faith in each other, and somehow work together. 

Like Alma, Aryaneh and Yasamin, we show up. We accept each other. We keep faith. We work together. Not in our own strength but as those who gather around one table to partakes of one bread; reflecting Christ’s life in word and deed; trusting the Spirit to change and make whole.


© Julie Gittoes 2025