The workshop smelt of oil and sweat,
Of stone and wood and clay.
The tools of many disciplines,
Around, about they lay.
The handyman, he raised his head:
“How may I help today?” Read more
James’s Blog: The Ballad of the Handyman.
resurrection
James’s Blog: A Conversation.
“I haven’t seen you at the shelter recently.”
“Yeah, well, I guess I don’t see much point these days.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think I believe it any more. To be honest, I don’t really see how you can believe it.”
“What do you mean? You’ve given up your faith?” Read more
James’s Blog: Halfway There.
We’re about halfway through Lent – the length of time where we prepare for the good news that Jesus would not stay dead.
I think I like the idea of Lent more than I like Lent itself. Don’t get me wrong, I think Lent is a good thing – a timely and excellent reminder – and I’m sure that many people benefit from it’s place in the calendar. However, because things like reflection, discipline and ritual all have an important home in my spirituality, I don’t think that they’re tools that should just be dragged out of storage for a forty-day chunk of the year. I try to make them a regular habit and so that aspect of Lent seems – dare I say it – a tad redundant to me.
Furthermore, Easter is not a time where things slow down and opportunities for reflection increase – quite the opposite. I imagine many of you face the same situation. For me, Easter sees an increase in workload regarding children, family, school and church. Making time for solitude and space for reflection feels like even more of a luxury at this time of year, so I’m grateful that it’s already a part of my life. Instead my greatest need during the March/April madness is to make sure that I’m constantly inviting God into the middle of whatever smoke and thunder makes up my life each day.
Although it’s important and totally right to celebrate Easter each year, I know that I need Jesus and his resurrection every day of my life. I suppose that my hope is that I carry the attitudes of Lent with me 365 days a year, instead of for just forty.
James’s Blog: God in a Box.
I’ve been making my way through the account of Jesus’ life found in Mark’s Gospel recently, and though serendipity I ended up reading the Passion narrative during the week leading up to Christmas. The Resurrection arrived on Christmas day itself.
On Christmas Eve I was struck by the comparison offered in Mark 15:42-47. The season demanded that we remember the Christ being placed gently in the manger by his parents, and there I was reading about how another Joseph placed him gently in a tomb carved from rock.
Neither could hold him of course. He grew too big for the manger, and grew too alive for the tomb.
Such is the way of Jesus. He will not be ‘placed’ anywhere for too long. He cannot be held, trapped, nailed down, cornered, pinned, ensnared, bound, boxed in or bottled up. You may as well try and glue the sea in place. We may be more comfortable if he stays in the manger, the gentle spirit of Christmas goodwill, but he will refuse your kind offer of accommodation, and wander off somewhere, life and mayhem following in his wake. Despite all the trouble he’s caused me at times, he is without a doubt my favourite person ever. And despite all the trouble I’ve caused him, he seems quite fond of me too.
So when the Messiah who won’t sit still sticks his head through your doorway and says, “I’m going out for a while. Fancy a walk?” what can you do? What can you say to that kind of invitation?
James’s Blog: “Peace Be With You.”
(Once again our church sent out some daily reflections over the Easter period. Below is the short piece that I wrote for Easter Sunday.)
While they were still talking about this, Jesus himself stood among them and said to them, “Peace be with you.”
Luke 24:36
Sometimes I just don’t get Jesus. I mean, there the disciples are, having a conversation (and they were hidden away, so it was a private conversation), when all of a sudden Jesus appears and says, “Peace be with you.” I mean, I was always taught that it was rude to interrupt, but Jesus doesn’t seem to care. He intrudes and cuts them off in the middle of their discussion to offer them something that they hadn’t even asked for, like one of those annoying cold calls in the middle of dinner.
If Jesus really wanted to help, surely he would have gone out and about in Jerusalem and made sure that everyone saw him. Maybe he could have walked up to Herod’s palace, or Pilate’s residence, and knocked on the door with his nail-pieced hand and given them a telling-off. Then everyone would know that the disciples were right, and they wouldn’t have to hide any more, and everyone would want to listen to what they had to say.
Instead, he arrives when they are least expecting it, and gives them – of all things – peace. Peace is all right, I suppose, but what good is peace when everyone thinks you’re a heretic and wants you arrested? What good is peace when your whole world has been turned upside down, and you’re about to undertake the most incredible and demanding adventure you’ve ever known? And when Peter and the other disciples stood there, in the future years, awaiting their own violent deaths because they had followed Jesus, do you think that they stood there and said, “Thank goodness that at least I have peace.”?
I mean, is that the best thing that you can think of? The thing that you would want? For Jesus to intrude unexpectedly in the middle of your doubts and questions and struggles and say, “My peace I give to you. I do not give as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled.”? Is that really what the resurrection story is about? Is that really what we’re supposed to do with Easter during the rest of the year?
Yes. Yes, it is. “In this world you will have trouble,” said Jesus, “but take heart, for I have overcome the world.” Because of Easter, Jesus is able to interrupt any struggle, any difficulty, any challenge and bring peace. You might prefer him to take away your problems, but he never promised that. Instead, he brings something better. Peace in the midst of problems. We need Jesus to intrude and offer us this peace, because there’s nowhere else that it can be found.
James’s Blog: How to End the Gospel.
I admire Mark for the way that he ended his gospel: “Trembling and bewildered, the women went out and fled from the tomb. They said nothing to anyone, because they were afraid.” Read more
James’s Blog: What if it’s Already Happened?
Easter is a topsy-turvey time. Everything is back-to-front. Suffering brings salvation, death brings life; the established order of things is turned on its head. Yet we spend so much of our time and energy trying to make things work in a world where we believe that death is stronger than life and that despair is greater than hope. Read more
James’s Blog: While it was Still Dark…
Darkness does strange things to the brain. Sometimes, when you wake in the middle of the night, the darkness makes easily manageable problems seem insurmountable. In the darkness, all our fears and worries can sneak up on us unseen. It’s even worse for those of us who are blessed with an overactive imagination. But God being God, it doesn’t surprise me at all that He does some of His best work in the darkness.
Imagine being there at the start of the world’s calendar, surrounded by the rolling chaos of oppressive darkness, and then to hear that first command – “Let there be light”. God does some of His best work in the darkness.
One Sunday, Mary carried her grief all the way to the tomb where Jesus was buried and finds the stone rolled away. John tells us that this happened ‘…while it was still dark’. Mary is there, in the dark, both figuratively and literally, pondering what has happened. I’ll tell you what has happened, Mary. While people were asleep, surrounded by the light-smothering night, God was getting on with the business of resurrection. God does some of His best work in the darkness.
Imagine that. God takes the night, which to us spells death and fear and suffering, and makes it scream of life and light and joy. Of course He’d do it that way. Of course He would. Do you not know Him?
Sometimes the lights go out in our lives and you can’t see your hand in front of your face. Don’t be afraid, because you know what happens in the dark.
