Walking in Crosslight

Second Sunday in Lent: Genesis 17:1-7,15-16 and Mark 8:31-end

In yesterday’s Guardian, Monica Heisey explores what she calls the ‘joyless trudge’ or the British obsession with ‘going for a walk’.  She captures the refrain that perhaps we recognise from our childhood or being amongst friends: Where are we going? On a walk!

In lockdown, walking - without a particular destination in mind - has been a way to exercise, spend time with a friend, get away from the computer screen and relax. Whether it’s on the Heath, at the Welsh Harp or a circuit of Sunny Hill Park, we’re spoilt for choice when it comes to walking 

Yet, Heisey, such activities are aimless - ‘no destination, only journey.’

At this early point in Lent we are invited to walk: to walk before God; to walk the way of the cross.

And perhaps, like the journalist, we worry that that can be a joyless trudge; and yet our readings are inviting us to stay with the journey, even when the destination is uncertain or even unpalatable. 

We’re invited to in the way of the cross; and to allow its light to be good news.

Abraham and Sarah - Marc Chagall

Today we are invited to walk with Abram and Sarai as they face a new beginning. 

The journey begins at an unexpected and unlikely moment. 

Their journey thus far has included the companionship of the life together; but also the reality of childlessness. Whether through choice or circumstance, the social pressures and expectations of parenthood are still recognisable to us today - for men and for women. 

The ‘I am’ of God speaks into this place of ageing at a time when life seems short; when the light of hope grows dim. 

I am God.  I am God inviting you to walk before me. 

To walk with me; to be with me; to be blameless. To let go of shame and fear; of stigma and isolation. And to walk.

To begin a new journey.

Image: artist unknown, found here

This invitation to walk doesn’t have a clear destination; but it full of promise. 

This covenant is exceeds all that Abram and Sarai could count or imagine.

Where life seemed limited, now there is an everlasting covenant.

Where hope grew dim, now there blazes a multitude of possibilities.

One couple, becoming exceedingly numerous.

An old man, an ancestor to a multitude of nations.

An old woman, blessed mother of many peoples.

I am God. Walk before me.

Be blameless: love, trust, hope. Walk.

This is the covenant of God: a commitment to mercy and blessing and life. 

Image here

That commitment to walk in God’s way of love are not always comfortable or straightforward.

Peter discovers that in a painful way today. A few moments before the conversation we hear today, Peter had placed his faith and trust in Jesus - he had declared who he was. 

He named Jesus as Messiah; the I am of almighty God in our midst.

But then Jesus begins to teach the disciples that this way of being with us, of walking with us, would involve suffering. 

He speaks of rejection, suffering and death. 

Peter protests. 

He speaks from the heart.

He speaks out of the human instinct to protect the one he’s chosen to follow, listened to, and place his hope in.

He speaks of the human instinct to hold on to his understanding of what it meant to be Messiah; to the image of saviour as an all-conquering hero.

This is a painful moment. Peter rebukes Jesus because he cannot bear to hear let alone understand what is being said; to register the shock of this suffering love is hard.

It is a painful moment. Jesus rebukes Peter - but also keeping the disciples and each one of us in his gaze. For it is too easy and tempting to set our hearts and minds on human things. 

Jesus takes up the cross: image here

Jesus is inviting us to think afresh about the ways of God; about the way God’s very self is revealed in vulnerability.

It is only by focusing on the person of Jesus that a relationship begins; that we can come with our misunderstandings and questions, hopes and desires.

And here, in the company of the one who is God with us, glimpse mercy and truth. Catch the drift of the radical change he brings. 

For  hear we see God at the heart of the world; at the heart of what we experience. God is at the heart of the suffering, pain, confusion and uncertainty. 

God is there and, in the words of Rowan Williams, is transforming it  ‘by the sheer indestructible energy of his mercy’.

The cross bearers of Holy Week: image source here

Like Peter, we are invited to keep going. However hard it is at times to make sense; however many questions we have, we are called to follow.

To follow the energy of this mercy, and there to find life.

To let go of the dazzling prizes of the world, and to find life.

To recognise the force of God’s love, and to find in it new life.

The God who invited Abram and Sarai to walk before him, is the God who is the ground of our being.

Today, we are invited to see the ways in which Jesus changes what can be said about God. 

If this is where God is - walking the way of the cross -  then God’s love and mercy cannot be overcome or squeezed out by injustice, suffering and loneliness. 

Image from video-hive

Is walking this way a ‘joyless trudge’? No.

Is there no destination, but only journey? No.

This walk, this journey is infused with the light of God’s light.

A steady light that sheds light on the world around us.

A light that calls us to recognise the dignity of every human being; and to trust in the energy of God’s mercy.

Walking in cross light reminds as that in Jesus, God goes to the very heart of human experience; and there, at our weak point, brings life.

Walking in cross light delivers us from the circumstances or choices which bring sorrow; and instead invites us to be part of a story that speaks of good news and a new world.

God comes to the weak point and says this is not the end; comes to the place of sorrow and embraces us; to the place of regret and forgives us. 

We are to walk - remembering God’s tender mercies and loving kindness.

We are to walk - remembering that God’s mercy and love bring life, hope and forgiveness. 

Let us pray to the trice holy God to have mercy on us as we walk in cross light.

Holy God. 

Holy and strong.

Holy and immortal.

Have mercy on us.

 © Julie Gittoes 2021

All Saints - life at walking pace

All Saints Eucharist: Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18, Ephesians 1:11-23 and Luke 6:20-31

Image re the new St Hilda's Way

Pilgrim’s progress is not a byeline you expect to see in a weekend paper; but yesterday’s Guardian did just that devoting pages to ancient footpaths and pilgrimage sites.

St Finbarr’s Way; the Welsh Camino of St Cadfan; the ways of St Hilda, St Augustine and St Duthac. The ways the saints trod across Cornwall and Northumbria as well as the way to Walsingham, home to England’s Nazareth.

No wonder Dixe Wills opens her article with the words of Blake’s famous hymn, Jerusalem: And did those feet…

And the feet of God’s saints have walked upon this land; and the body of Christ still moves step by step through streets and woodlands.

To walk is to live at a pace where we notice what is around us; where we risk being drawn into conversation with others on the way.

Today we give thank for the saints; for the great cloud of witnesses who have gone before us in our earthly walk of faith.

Across the generations, these men and women have sought to reflect the love of God by their teaching and their actions; by the way they’ve built others up; and by the way they’ve sought to make known the justice and compassion of God’s Kingdom.

They’ve kindled a flame of faith in us and in this land. They are our family. Some of them will be people who encourage or provoke; for some we will have great personal affection or devotion; others will be unknown, but for a name.

We are to follow them - to follow their example with boldness and with joy - as pilgrims here on earth.  Their lives witnessed to the life and hope of the Gospel, often in very practical ways. 

Some were called to administration and others offered hospitality; some sought justice for the poor and oppressed others were renowned for their wisdom and teaching. Some exercised power and influence in high office; others sought to be a blessing in homes and communities.

They are our inspiration as we work out that reality in ourselves and within the networks or relationships we inhabit. 

Today’s readings set out the patterns and habits which shape this life together. There is challenge and creativity in the words we hear.  

The words of scripture remind us that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Godself; in the power of the Spirit, the lives of the saints echoed that hope, shining as lights in the world. 

In our own generation, we are called to be lights in our own generation. And that can sometimes feel like a burden or pressure; that we are not good enough to fulfil that calling.

Perhaps then we can take encouragement from the words of Rassie Erasmus - the head coach of the Springboks. He describes the pressures of life in South Africa - the problems of employment or crime. 

Then he talks about ruby as a privilege rather than a burden he says: Rugby shouldn’t be something that creates pressure on you, it should be something that creates hope.

What if we were to substitute the word faith or church or discipleship for rugby: being a Christian shouldn’t be something that creates pressure on your, it should be something that creates hope.

To continue the rugby analogy, that doesn’t mean talking about it: it means living it, playing well and working together for a common aim. 

Our Gospel reading leaves us in doubt about the challenge of living in such a community. Jesus' teaching about blessing and woes are memorable. They are challenging and edgy. Jesus is laying the foundations of a renewed community - reaching out to the curious and already committed.

This is a community that exists among and for the most disadvantaged. Jesus is addressing himself to those who find themselves up against it; and those who’re passionate for change. He addresses himself to those who are looking for hope; and those who are under pressure.

This is a manifesto for all the saints: to hunger and thirst for righteousness; to be with poor, the hungry and the grief stricken. 

When we gather together around the altar, we are united with them in praise and pray; members of one body; transcending time and place.

But this gathering is but an interval in the scattered life of the church. For we will be sent out to love and serve; send out to walk in the world. Walking through Brent Street and The Boroughs into offices and schools, shops and concert halls, hymns and parks. 

As we walk, what do we notice and with whom do we meet?

Blessed are the motherless; the alone; those who haven’t got over it yet. Blessed are the street cleaners and health care assistants; blessed are underrepresented, the unemployed; the teenager who are anxious. 

Blessed are those seeking refuge and dreaming of a better life; blessed are those who campaign and keep others safe. Blessed are those who challenge the bullies; and those who show mercy and comfort. Blessed are those who weep and laugh; blessed are those who embrace and nurse.

The challenge to us resounds in our community of faith. Woe to us when we lack generosity or gratitude; woe to us when we court popularity.  And just when we get to the bit where we think we can relax and be comfortable, Jesus says, even in the face of insult, excessive demands and all that makes us defensive, we are to love. 

Our identity in Christ flows from our baptism and is deepened in prayer and praise. Our identity is nourished in sharing this sacred feast of bread and wine - the bond of our communion with Christ. Here the Spirit is poured out on us afresh. Here we are caught up in a process of transformation. Here we are renewed and inspired. From here we are sent out to live in faith and hope and love, as lights in the world. 

Wouldn't it be amazing if it could be said so us: we've heard of your faith and your love of others. For Paul reminds the Ephesians that the Spirit in them is a little bit of heaven now. He tells them to live  lives as God's people in a world which is imperfect and in need of transformation. 

If Luke reminds us that the gospel is about social, religious, economic and political justice; Paul reminds us that a church called to risk is called to pray. For a spirit of wisdom and enlightenment. Such wisdom is an awareness of a God and his will for our lives. The love of God is the beginning of wisdom. 

This wisdom enables us to see the world differently: to be attentive and response to the cries we hear and the needs we see. The words of Daniel speak of a time of great upheaval and tensions between the nations; he speaks of terror and uncertainty, and yet he also reaches out the hope and promise of God in the midst of disruption. 

The hope we share is not wishful thinking but an awareness that creation is being drawn together in Christ; we walk this land, we walk ancient paths and create new pilgrim ways.

Those paths are marked by the same love, justice and compassion those who walked before us. Our walking in this land is rooted in the love of our gracious God who in Christ is revealed as redeemer and through Spirit opens our eyes to grace. 

We, as saints among saints, are called to mirror the eternal dance of mutual love of the Trinity. Delighting in God and his creation, no one should feel worthless. 

In the smallest of fragments of bread we taste and see the fullness of God. Through the relative smallness of our lives and gestures, we share that fullness.

We are drawn into the company of God's faithful and flawed people. We rely on the Spirit to strengthen us.  At the point at which we face death, when dreams and fears are laid bare, new life breaks through. Perhaps all the saints remind us of that too. 

As we struggle with systems that oppress and show compassion for the marginalised and face mistrust with love, we won't be defeated. All things under Christ's  feet; he is the head over all things for the church; which is his body - the fullness of him who fills all in all. 

He is the fullness of God. We are in Christ. Empowered by the Spirit let us with all the saints in light shine as lights in the world. To the glory of God.

© Julie Gittoes 2019