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An impossible God?

This Sunday is Trinity Sunday – which many preachers find challenging, and many congregations mystifying. Unlike all the other major festivals of the Christian year, it has no compelling narrative, or attractive imagery. No doubt we will be offered various implausible or unhelpful ‘aids’ to understanding the Trinity – from St Patrick’s inadequate   shamrock (which implies that the Godhead is neatly divided into equal segments) to the modalist image of H 2 O (which suggests that God is alternatively manifested in three forms, but never at the same time.) I once heard a lecturer say that the only non-heretical statements on the Trinity come in the Athanasian Creed, which continually negates everything it says - leading to the gloss on the clause “The Father, incomprehensible, the Son incomprehensible; and the Holy Ghost incomprehensible” = ‘and the whole thing incomprehensible!’ But in truth, the belief that God is Trinity-in-Unity is central to the Christian experience of God,

Laments

In an article, published in Time , Tom Wright wrote about the Covid-19 Crisis, that it was wrong for Christians to seek either an explanation or a ‘sigh of relief’. Rather we should recover “the biblical tradition of lament. Lament is what happens when people ask, ‘Why?’ and don’t get an answer.” He suggests that the important thing is not to find reasons – or ways out – but simply to express our grief, in the knowledge that God also laments with us. “As the Spirit laments within us, so we become, even in our self-isolation, small shrines where the presence and healing love of God can dwell.” This is helpful. Many people are feeling deep grief at this time – either because of an immediate loss – of family or friends who have died, or other personal losses and anxieties - or because of an awareness of how much pain and sorrow we are surrounded by. Christians find themselves unsure how to respond, how to articulate these feelings – partly because the prevailing culture in most chur

Doubting Thomas - NOT!

St Thomas has a generally bad press – ‘a doubting Thomas’ has become a clich é, and most statements about this apostle forget the faith he showed, when Jesus said he was returning to Judea after Lazarus’ death despite the risk, saying, “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” ( John 11:16) And after his encounter with the Risen Christ in the upper room, he goes further than any of the others in declaring, “My Lord and my God!” (John 20:28 ) The reason he is labelled a doubter is, of course, his saying – when told by the others that they had seen the Risen One - “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my hand into his side, I will not believe it” ( John 20:25 .) The problem is that, as often happens, we fail to read the words of scripture carefully enough. Thomas does not say he needs to see Jesus. He says he needs to see the nail marks, and touch the wound in his side. In other words, he wants to see that the Risen Jesus is still wounded. Why? Is it simply that h

Easter joy

As we embark (almost certainly) on another period of confinement, many people are experiencing a range of negative feelings. For some there is grief at the death of friends, family or acquaintances – a grief exacerbated by the restrictions on visiting those on the verge of death, viewing the bodies of the departed, or even sharing in the funeral. There is a wider grief – at contemplating the number of people who have died r been bereaved. A growing number are feeling acutely disappointed – at missing holidays, cancelling long-planned celebrations (weddings, anniversaries and birthdays) and the inability to visit families. For others, fear of what the future holds in financial and employment terms, anxiety about health (one’s own or loved ones’) or the confusion or depression caused by isolation will be the main issue. We can see most of these emotions among the followers of Jesus in the days after his crucifixion: feelings that coloured their meetings with the Risen Lord. So we s

Holy Saturday (NOT Easter Saturday!)

Today is Holy Saturday, the Great Sabbath, Easter Eve – NOT ‘Easter Saturday’. I think the distinction is important. Today we are focussed on the sense of loss and emptiness after the burial of Jesus. Where is God? must have been the overwhelming thought in the minds of the disciples. (As the disciples who walk with the unrecognized Christ to Emmaus on the first day of the week will say “We had hoped that he was the one.” In other words, today is a time for acknowledging grief, confusion and doubt. The prevailing secular images of Easter = rabbits, daffodils, chicks, eggs – can suggest that the resurrection was normal, inevitable. It’s what happens in spring. That completely misses the point – that it was unexpected, unnatural and disconcerting (even if it was also a cause for rejoicing and renewed hope.) The women were astonished and fearful to find the tomb empty; Mary Magdalene, like the Emmaus road disciples, failed to recognize the Risen One – because they were not expecti

Making virtual worship real

For most Christians, Holy Week is the high point of the year, with its challenging themes and powerful worship, which invites us to participate in the saving events of Jesus’ last week in Jerusalem. The key note in all the main services is involvement – a kind of mimesis , reliving, and being part of these events, from the palm procession on Palm Sunday, through the evening communion on Maundy Thursday, and the various ways Good Friday is celebrated to the Easter ceremonies, perhaps a vigil service of light overcoming darkness or an early morning greeting of the new world created by Christ’s resurrection. This year, we shall be deprived of that shared experience, and it is hard to overstate how painful that will be for us. We can share through the internet some of the worship, readings and reflection, but the feeling of being alongside fellow-believers in sharing these great experiences is lacking. In the Jewish Passover, which will be celebrated in Jewish homes on Wednesday even

Doing Nothing

“What I like doing best is Nothing.”   Surprisingly it is Christopher Robin who says this, rather than Pooh. He explains, “It means just going along, listening to all the things you can hear, and not bothering.” Many of us are getting quite used to ‘doing Nothing’. For some that is delightful; but others find this enforced inaction a problem – which is why they have been hyper-active, doing jobs around the house, and garden, sorting papers, and so on. We’re all different! (And we mustn’t forget, that for some key-workers this crisis is causing excessive extra activity and stress.) But there is a positive side to doing nothing, which we might focus on as we progress into Holy Week. We are celebrating Passiontide, and the distinctive note here is Jesus’ suffering, which involves his passivity. In The Stature of Waiting, W.H. Vanstone reminded us that after his arrest in Gethsemane, Jesus does nothing, and says very little. Part of the miracle of our redemption is that the Word In