iGod

Easter is not just for the religious type

A local vicar and pastor stood by the side of the road holding up a sign that said, "The End is Near! Turn yourself around now before it's too late!"

"Leave us alone, you religious nuts!" yelled a driver as he sped by. Then from around the bend they heard a big splash.

"Do you think," said one clergy to the other, "we should just put up a sign that says, 'bridge down' instead?"

I have heard people say that they are not the religious type, insinuating that, perhaps, I am.  As if I came out of my mother’s womb clutching an open Bible with a full-robed choir singing the Hallelujah Chorus by the bedside. I mean who sets out in life to be religious?

For some strange reason though a few atheist writers recently, such as Alain De Botton and Richard Holloway, find “religion” attractive. In fact, the former writer has gone so far to try and set out a religious life for non-believers. Then there is AC Grayling who has even written a bible for the atheist.

Someone once wrote, “To be is to be connected. And to be connected is to be plugged in.” The Bible states that we are all “made in the image of God”. These are both big, big statements and this is a small, small brain here that reflects upon them. Yet, life is a big experience and so I think it deserves a little of our time to dwell on the big stuff once in a while, don’t you?  And it is also okay not to have a conclusive answer in two minutes. Some things are meant to be pondered over a lifetime. Maybe even over eternity.

I guess for many people though “religion” in the UK stands for a shrinking minority of church-goers who hate gay people, resent women and despise those who have abortions, but anyone with a bit of savvy will know that this not quite the case but, of course, it makes a convenient headline.

However, personally speaking, if my faith does come across as judgmental, intolerant and exclusive, it bothers me and the finger needs to be pointed firmly back at my face.

Mahatma Gandhi once said, “Your Christians are so unlike your Christ.” Sadly, I think at times he is right. I have met many non-Christians whose conduct is better people than Christians. Religion in itself does not make anyone a better person - Christian or atheist. But, of course, choosing to follow Jesus is not principally about ethics, it has to do with an awe-inspiring divine-human relationship.

Shortly our local churches will be celebrating Easter, a time we celebrate new life in Christ through his resurrection, but maybe we could see as the time when Jesus Christ, the son of God, came as the non-religious type for the non-religious type to draw all people to himself into a real, relevant and restored relationship with God the Father.

I truly believe the message of salvation is still as powerful and pertinent as it was 2,000 years ago, because you see Jesus’ death happened in a secular setting, not in a private religious community. It was not really a religious event at all. It happened in the city of one of the busiest and most important trading outposts of the Roman Empire.

On Good Friday we remember how Jesus, isolated and with a minority following, gave his life in a divine act of love for the majority, regardless of belief or faith. Now, I am not wanting to impose my position on anyone, but I do want to put it out there to our community.

We are all free to accept or reject, but let me leave you with this last thought: did Jesus really die just to make us religious? It just doesn’t stack up for me.

Maybe see you at Stour Valley Vineyard Church 10.30 am on Easter Sunday at the Delphi Centre.

Happy Easter!

ASD

A poem for Ash Wednesday - TS Elliot

Because I do not hope to turn again
Because I do not hope
Because I do not hope to turn
Desiring this man's gift and that man's scope
I no longer strive to strive towards such things
(Why should the aged eagle stretch its wings?)
Why should I mourn
The vanished power of the usual reign?

Because I do not hope to know again
The infirm glory of the positive hour
Because I do not think
Because I know I shall not know
The one veritable transitory power
Because I cannot drink
There, where trees flower, and springs flow, for there is nothing again

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessed face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

And pray to God to have mercy upon us
And pray that I may forget
These matters that with myself I too much discuss
Too much explain
Because I do not hope to turn again
Let these words answer
For what is done, not to be done again
May the judgement not be too heavy upon us

Because these wings are no longer wings to fly
But merely vans to beat the air
The air which is now thoroughly small and dry
Smaller and dryer than the will
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still.

Pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death
Pray for us now and at the hour of our death.

II

Lady, three white leopards sat under a juniper-tree
In the cool of the day, having fed to satiety
On my legs my heart my liver and that which had been contained
In the hollow round of my skull. And God said
Shall these bones live? shall these
Bones live? And that which had been contained
In the bones (which were already dry) said chirping:
Because of the goodness of this Lady
And because of her loveliness, and because
She honours the Virgin in meditation,
We shine with brightness. And I who am here dissembled
Proffer my deeds to oblivion, and my love
To the posterity of the desert and the fruit of the gourd.
It is this which recovers
My guts the strings of my eyes and the indigestible portions
Which the leopards reject. The Lady is withdrawn
In a white gown, to contemplation, in a white gown.
Let the whiteness of bones atone to forgetfulness.
There is no life in them. As I am forgotten
And would be forgotten, so I would forget
Thus devoted, concentrated in purpose. And God said
Prophesy to the wind, to the wind only for only
The wind will listen. And the bones sang chirping
With the burden of the grasshopper, saying

Lady of silences
Calm and distressed
Torn and most whole
Rose of memory
Rose of forgetfulness
Exhausted and life-giving
Worried reposeful
The single Rose
Is now the Garden
Where all loves end
Terminate torment
Of love unsatisfied
The greater torment
Of love satisfied
End of the endless
Journey to no end
Conclusion of all that
Is inconclusible
Speech without word and
Word of no speech
Grace to the Mother
For the Garden
Where all love ends.

Under a juniper-tree the bones sang, scattered and shining
We are glad to be scattered, we did little good to each other,
Under a tree in the cool of the day, with the blessing of sand,
Forgetting themselves and each other, united
In the quiet of the desert. This is the land which ye
Shall divide by lot. And neither division nor unity
Matters. This is the land. We have our inheritance.

III

At the first turning of the second stair
I turned and saw below
The same shape twisted on the banister
Under the vapour in the fetid air
Struggling with the devil of the stairs who wears
The deceitful face of hope and of despair.

At the second turning of the second stair
I left them twisting, turning below;
There were no more faces and the stair was dark,
Damp, jagged, like an old man's mouth drivelling, beyond repair,
Or the toothed gullet of an aged shark.

At the first turning of the third stair
Was a slotted window bellied like the figs's fruit
And beyond the hawthorn blossom and a pasture scene
The broadbacked figure drest in blue and green
Enchanted the maytime with an antique flute.
Blown hair is sweet, brown hair over the mouth blown,
Lilac and brown hair;
Distraction, music of the flute, stops and steps of the mind over the third stair,
Fading, fading; strength beyond hope and despair
Climbing the third stair.

Lord, I am not worthy
Lord, I am not worthy
but speak the word only.

IV

Who walked between the violet and the violet
Who walked between
The various ranks of varied green
Going in white and blue, in Mary's colour,
Talking of trivial things
In ignorance and knowledge of eternal dolour
Who moved among the others as they walked,
Who then made strong the fountains and made fresh the springs

Made cool the dry rock and made firm the sand
In blue of larkspur, blue of Mary's colour,
Sovegna vos

Here are the years that walk between, bearing
Away the fiddles and the flutes, restoring
One who moves in the time between sleep and waking, wearing

White light folded, sheathing about her, folded.
The new years walk, restoring
Through a bright cloud of tears, the years, restoring
With a new verse the ancient rhyme. Redeem
The time. Redeem
The unread vision in the higher dream
While jewelled unicorns draw by the gilded hearse.

The silent sister veiled in white and blue
Between the yews, behind the garden god,
Whose flute is breathless, bent her head and signed but spoke no word

But the fountain sprang up and the bird sang down
Redeem the time, redeem the dream
The token of the word unheard, unspoken

Till the wind shake a thousand whispers from the yew

And after this our exile

V

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice

Will the veiled sister pray for
Those who walk in darkness, who chose thee and oppose thee,
Those who are torn on the horn between season and season, time and time, between
Hour and hour, word and word, power and power, those who wait
In darkness? Will the veiled sister pray
For children at the gate
Who will not go away and cannot pray:
Pray for those who chose and oppose

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Will the veiled sister between the slender
Yew trees pray for those who offend her
And are terrified and cannot surrender
And affirm before the world and deny between the rocks
In the last desert before the last blue rocks
The desert in the garden the garden in the desert
Of drouth, spitting from the mouth the withered apple-seed.

O my people. 

 

VI

Although I do not hope to turn again
Although I do not hope
Although I do not hope to turn

Wavering between the profit and the loss
In this brief transit where the dreams cross
The dreamcrossed twilight between birth and dying
(Bless me father) though I do not wish to wish these things
From the wide window towards the granite shore
The white sails still fly seaward, seaward flying
Unbroken wings

And the lost heart stiffens and rejoices
In the lost lilac and the lost sea voices
And the weak spirit quickens to rebel
For the bent golden-rod and the lost sea smell
Quickens to recover
The cry of quail and the whirling plover
And the blind eye creates
The empty forms between the ivory gates
And smell renews the salt savour of the sandy earth This is the time of tension between dying and birth The place of solitude where three dreams cross Between blue rocks But when the voices shaken from the yew-tree drift away Let the other yew be shaken and reply.

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

 

ASD

What would you do if you knew you could not fail?

Would you swim the English Channel? Would you audition for X Factor? Solve world hunger? Wouldn’t it be great if we were guaranteed success in everything we touched?

Coming down from Mount Olympus, I wonder if a fear of failure stops us from going forward in life. Maybe there is a fear of failing in marriage because our parents divorced.  Maybe getting an education because we fear we will not have the commitment to see it through. We can end up counting the cost of failure more and totally miss the joy of trying.

When I was at school in the sixth form seven of us decided to cycle to North Wales to raise money for a Mountain activity centre in Snowdonia. For some dumb and inexplicable reason we choose to go in the February half term when it was bitterly cold and snowing. Considering that I had never cycled more than five miles in my life, you could say a cycle ride of 180 miles over three days was a risky strategy. Well, we made it and the local newspaper ran the headline “The Magnificent Seven.” Though I seem to remember in the film that only three of them made it. Anyway, moving on.

Life doesn’t give us any certainty, but certainly there is hope. In our church there is no stigma attached to failure. We come as we are. We come as failures being restored.

We have just come through Easter when the Church remembers the great sacrifice that Jesus made for us by dying on a rough wooden Roman cross. The Easter story tells us Jesus took our guilt and shame and substituted himself for us. We acknowledge that we can’t save ourselves from ourselves. It has to have divine involvement.

It’s amazing to think that the first pope of Rome, Peter, did not see himself as infallible, but a miserable failure before his reinstatement by Jesus.

He was one of Jesus’ closest friends, but when the tough got going he ended up denying Jesus three times to save his bacon. Not great qualifications for becoming the Pontiff of Rome you might think. Peter knew he had done wrong against God (sin) but received forgiveness from the only one that ultimately really matters. Furthermore, he was then trusted by Jesus to start the Church, which today sees a third of the world population following Jesus. Not a bad result for a failure.

So perhaps the question is not what would you do if you could not fail, but what will you do when you do? Contrary to some held beliefs, an authentic life in Christ does not live with continued guilt and shame, but allows us to come and be accepted for who we are, being set free and given new hope for a fail-safe future. Now you have to admit that is pretty cool.

ASD

Dare you not to be moved by this song sung by an old homeless guy

A number of people have asked me about the reflective song I played at our Good Friday Service recently, which had the effect of reducing a number of us to tears.

Two weeks before Good Friday a good friend of ours who is a local artist gave us a CD. I hadn't really given it much thought to be honest as my time was pretty sqeezed with my commitments. However on the Wednesday before our service I saw it in the corner of my eye and decided to slip it into my laptop to play.

Nothing prepared me for what I heard next  It was of an elderly tramp singing an old worship song over and over again. The song was called "Jesus Blood Never Failed Me Yet". After a bit of Googling I discovered the full story behind the recording and so share it with you here.

Back in the early Seventies the classical composer Gavin Bryars was working with a friend in London making a film about the homeless living rough in and around Elephant and Castle and Waterloo Station.

In the course of being filmed, some of the guys broke into drunken song, but there was one who in fact did not drink, and sang the song "Jesus' Blood Never Failed Me Yet".

When Bryars played it at home, he found the homeless guy's singing was in tune with his piano, and he improvised a simple accompaniment. He noticed, too, that the first section of the song - 13 bars in length - formed an effective loop, which repeated in a slightly unpredictable way.

He took the tape loop to Leicester, where he was working in the Fine Art Department, and copied the loop onto a continuous reel of tape, thinking about perhaps adding an orchestrated accompaniment to this. The door of the recording room opened on to one of the large painting studios and he left the tape copying, with the door open, while he went to have a cup of coffee.

When he came back Gavin Bryars found the normally lively room unnaturally subdued. People were moving about much more slowly than usual and a few were sitting alone, quietly weeping.

People had been overcome by the old man's simple and bold faith being sung in this uncomplicated song.

Here are the words:

"Jesus' blood never failed me yet

never failed me yet

Jesus' blood never failed me yet

There's one thing I know

For he loves me so..."

Worship isn't about the performance, it's about the heart. As we reflected over Easter, Jesus was himself homeless for the last part of his life and lived and died with borrowed possessions. His love for the rejected, dispossed and hard-pressed is evident, not least by this elderly homeless man who knew the true meaning of Jesus' blood being spilt for him.

The old man died before he could hear what the composer had done with his singing, but he left us with a most precious gift.

ASD

A reflection for Good Friday - if you are religious or not

At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.”

Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said.

With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last. The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!” (Mark's gospel, the Bible)

My youngest daughter loves reading stories from her Children's Book of the Bible. I tend to let her chose one, which hopefully isn't too many pages. Amidst the other stories is the account of Jesus' death. The Church calls it Good Friday. To a child of seven or even a mature adult it is perhaps hard to see why this could in any possible way, shape or form be called a good day.

But here's the thing.

Even the most hardened of skeptics I meet admit that Jesus stood for life, love, justice and faith. Through history and society people have broadly cheered at his indignant approach to upsetting convention and exposing hypocrisy and abuse. But every hero apparently has his day and we get disprited when people don't live up to our hopes. Much like politicians and expensive footballers, I guess.

DId Jesus get too big for his boots or did the people big him up for their own needs? A large number really just wanted a king to lead a revolution and overthrow the Romans and live life again on their own terms again.

Last Sunday we rememembered Palm Sunday, the day when Jesus rode into Jersusalem at the time of the Feast of the Passover, not as a people's king or a vainglorious rebel leader, but as a pilgrim on a way to a festival on a donkey and colt.

On Maundy Thursday we remembered how he met with his closest disciples for the Passover meal, a meal that symbolised the salvation of the Jewish people, by the retelling of the story of their exodus from Egypt many hundreds of years previously. They had a last supper together in a upper room, taking the bread made without yeast and the cup of wine and passed them around to each other.

The night would end in betrayl by one disgruntled militant activist member whose trust in Jesus had worn thin by a lack of perceived action.

And so we come to Good Friday or bad Friday, depending on your viewpoint as a child or not. It may interest you to know that the cross was known as such a horrendous form of Roman torture and death that for the first part of the Church's development no reference to the cross as a symbol is to be found. it was only latterly in the Western church first that the cross started to be depicted as a main symbol of Christianity and that was through art as much as anything else.

Today, Jesus' death is overlooked by many in a secular society because he is seen as a narrow-minded, judgementalist, religious bigot out to conform everyone to one view, regardless of other views, cutlure etc.

However I have to say this is what others have made him, not himself. Much like in his day.

This 'king' did not live up to socio-political expectation at so many levels.

Firstly he never owned property, he always had something borrowed to him. His parents borrowed a stable (not born in a palace). He borrowed friends' houses to stay in (no possessions of his own). He borrowed a donkey and colt to ride in Jerusalem (not a steed). He borrowed a guest house room for the last supper. And at the end he even borrowed another man's tomb to be buried in.

Recently I heard atheist Rick Gervais say in an article in the New York Times that he thought he was a better Christian than Christians because he kept the 10 Commandments. He had come across those who profess to follow Jesus but had dubious actions, citing Ghandi who said. "I like your Christ, I don't like your Christians." Often the church has to be shamed by unexpected sources for it to come to its senses.

Sometimes It is hard to see beyond the moment and get perspective for Christians, agnostics and atheists alike. Easter gives our lives perspective whether we are religious or not.

So what makes Jesus' life, death and resurrection relevant for us today? Because his death historically happened in the hands of a secular institution, the Roman Empire, and so stopped it from becoming a small religious regional affair, making it unknowingly everybody's business. Hence, becoming a world faith across all cultures and backgrounds today.

The Easter story slows us down to remind us of our falibility and human weakeness. It reminds us that untimately we all want to be saved from something or ourselves.

Beyond being one of the earliest human rights activists, Jesus Christ demonstrated a purity that most of us, if we are honest with ourselves, yearn for. It came with great and awful sacrifice.

We want hope. We want to believe in better. We, therefore, need to be reminded of the pain to gain.

So when I wish you happy Easter, I mean 'happy Easter!'

May you find peace and love in the power of his life, death and resurrection.

ASD

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

6 Priorites of a Vineyard church

Happy Easter!

I get asked all sorts of questions when people visit our church. Sometimes in the form of why don't you do this or do that? 

If the person is already an established Christian looking for a new spiritual home, it may be rooted in a value that is held dear to them and is part of their tradition. I suppose they  are wondering if it could be part of ours too to help them make the transition.

At the end of the day, we are simply trying to be followers of Jesus. He is our everything. We worship Him and want to be His dedicated followers. So we have 6  distinctive priorities for us as a Vineyard.

(By the way, for us a priority is something that we spend our time money and energy on. Otherwise, to be frank, however much we talk or write about it is no priority at all.)

1. Our first priority is worship. We want to love Him with our songs and our lives. We love Him because He first loved us.

2. Our second priority is the Word. Our desire is to know the Bible, experience what it talks about and do what it commands us to do. The Bible is our standard for the Christian life.

3. Our third priority is fellowship. Christians are not meant to be alone. We are meant to share life together, learning to know and love each other. This is why our church is divided into small groups in order to make our family feel intimate and knowable.

4. Our fourth priority is ministry. We believe and practice that every member of the church is a minister, not just the head guy. We all get to participate in the work of the church. God gives the church leaders, not to do all the ministry, but to equip the people to do their part.

5. Outreach is our fifth priority. As God blesses us, we are to become a blessing to others. All around us are lost, broken, poor people, who need the resources that God has freely given the church. We are not to hoard, but be generous.

6. Our sixth priority is prayer. All this is to be done in an atmosphere of love, acceptance and forgiveness. Our God is a gracious God! May He meet you in His mercy and power.

Now in the Vineyard movement we may have different local expressions on how these priorities look, but we are united with love and respect for each other. This is why I love the Vineyard tribe and I why I am grateful it loves me.

I truly believe in the one Church and love all of it. However, I fully recognise that the Vineyard is just one small tiny expression of it for our time. But, as Rick Warren of Saddleback Church said, "We do need all kinds of churches to reach all kinds of people."

ASD

A thought on suffering as we move nearer to the cross of Good Friday

My atheist friend thinks that Christianity trades on suffering.

I know where he is coming from, but he is wrong.

Let's start with the cultural context of the Bible.  Everyday suffering and death were part and parcel of life in Ancient Near East culture. They were spoken with a matter of fact air about them. Today, though, they have become uncomfortable subjects and are likely to be met with some shuffling of feet.

The fact that God wants to talk about suffering and we don't perhaps should tell us something about ourselves.

Actually Christianity starts not with suffering, but with the human experience - and that naturally encompasses suffering.

For faith to not have a theology of suffering and death (theodicy) would show a fundamental weakness in its thinking. Without acknowledging death we cannot talk about Jesus being a life-giver.

It would mean that Jesus’ own death is pointless because suffering and death are not big deals. My atheist friend would say that death is the end. But to him it is all temporal, believing there is nothing more than this life, so why not just get on with it?

The Egyptians in their banquets exhibited a skeleton to the guests, to remind them of the brevity of human life saying as they did so, “Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow we die.” This is why we must talk about suffering - and about death.

I know it is not popular to labour on this aspect, but actually by acknowledging it we are able to get a greater revelation of what it means for Jesus to go through the agony of the cross to die for each one of us this Easter.

Previous generations appreciated the message of life because the prospect of death was always near to them. Not so today. With the advance of medical science and the long-lasting enjoyment of peacetime we have the confidence to dispense with the language of suffering. 

However, to charge Christianity for using suffering as a recruitment tactic is a lazy argument. It is but an honest admission that we are not infallible, but human. It says that we cannot be dependent on ourselves to save the day. However far we have come in our thinking.

ASD

Thoughts on Lent and its significance for us today

I have reproduced an article I wrote recently for a local magazine called Community News:

As the copious amounts of chocolate eggs in shops and supermarkets remind us, Easter is fast approaching. It is the time of year where one third of the population of the world will celebrate the death and resurrection of the founder of Christianity - Jesus Christ.

But did you know that the 40 days leading up to this event is called Lent? The word comes from the Anglo-Saxon word Lencten, which simply means lengthen. It is the period that leads up to Easter, which reminds us that the days are lengthening and nature is preparing for Spring.

Lent is also when we traditionally give up something. (Not an occasion that Hallmark cards has been able to easily exploit!)  This reflects the period of time that Jesus spent in the wilderness without food and water to pray before his impending public Roman and secular death in Jerusalem. Today many Christians observe Lent, as acknowledgement that they are dependent on God for everything.

In January I had the privilege of hearing a very brave Palestinian man, who has the flattering, if not slightly OTT moniker of ‘Ghandi of Palestine’. He is the inspirational leader of a growing non-violent political movement which aims to bring about reconciliation between Palestinians and Israelis.

Every Friday he will protest in front of bulldozers linked arm-in-arm with Muslims, Jews and Christians to stop Israeli government workers from extending into the West Bank, causing yet more Palestinian displacement. He is an irritation for sure. I am sure they are thinking, “If only he would pick up a gun so the army had the excuse to shoot him as a terrorist!”

To give this remarkable man a further context, he was once from a nice Middle class family living in a so-called safe suburban area of Jerusalem, which saw his innocent grandfather gunned down by a sniper as he tried to put up a white flag to protect the family. Life has never been normal since. This inspirational figure has, and had, his fair share of suffering, yet amazing he has immense peace.

I need to say that this brave Palestinian leader is also a Christian. He was asked by someone when he converted from Islam. He looked at him and said he hadn’t. He was quizzed further: “Then how long have your family been Christians?”

He casually replied, “2,000 years.” We don’t often hear in the British media of Palestinians being anything more than part of the fundamentalist Muslim problem. Neither do we hear much about one of the oldest Christian churches in the world living in the midst of this war-torn, battle-scarred area.

As a church pastor I have heard the common accusation from some friends that Christianity is a faith whose experience is built on suffering and misery. Although they mean it in a derisory sense, they are, of course, absolutely right. In fact, I would go so far to say that the Bible has been written with tears.

However, to say that Christianity has ‘traded’ on a premise of suffering is a little too simplistic, if not incredibly offensive.  You see I am afraid I see a lot of lives suffering regardless of the Church institution. Suffering is a way of life. People know how to hurt people.  They need the minimalist of excuses.

Sadly, I have also known people who have been hurt by a particular church in the past. I am truly sorry. But you know what, I can sympathise with you, because I too have been hurt by people with whom I had expected more.

 However, I have had to learn to forgive and remember that people are just like me – imperfect!  To move on we all have to learn to give people a second chance, even though we may feel it is undeserved - which really sums up the message of Easter.

This great festival is about God giving the human race an undeserved second chance through the sacrifice of his only son Jesus.  In himself, he brings hope for a new life, but it does first need us to surrender our own flawed - and hurt - lives to him.

Lent, followed by Easter, is a helpful annual reminder that we do not live in a sanitised Disneyesque world where suffering is denied. Being a Christian acknowledges suffering, but it dwells on the celebration of life.

ASD

Happy Easter!

Christ has died!
Christ is risen.
Christ will come again.
Amen

Whatever you are doing this Easter have fun.

ASD

"Before All Things" - A Song for Easter

Dan Wilt has posted an Easter hymn on his blog, based on Colossians 1:15-20. He has also kindly included words and chords too.

Apart from a Sunday gathering I can also see this song working really well in a small group. It is a great meditative song and full of wonderful truths. Take time to watch it if you can.

ASD