Reflection for Holy Week
“On the Margins” (2)
Now when Jesus
came into the district of Caesarea Philippi, he asked his disciples,
‘Who do people say that the Son of Man is?’ And they said, ‘Some say
John the Baptist, but others Elijah, and still others Jeremiah or one of
the prophets.’ He said to them, ‘But who do you say that I am?’ Simon
Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.’ And
Jesus answered him, ‘Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah! For flesh and
blood has not revealed this to you, but my Father in heaven. And I tell
you, you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church,
and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it. I will give you the
keys of the kingdom of heaven, and whatever you bind on earth will be
bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in
heaven.’ Then he sternly ordered the disciples not to tell anyone that
he was the Messiah.
From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to
Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and
chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be
raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God
forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.’ But he turned and said
to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for
you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’
Then Jesus told his disciples, ‘If any want to become my followers, let
them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those
who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life
for my sake will find it. For what will it profit them if they gain the
whole world but forfeit their life? Or what will they give in return for
their life?
Yesterday we left off thinking about this call to go with Jesus and
die with him - about how we needed to be Converted from a life which
however Christian it feels and indeed looks to the outsider, is actually
self centered. Not in the sense of the sort of crass selfishness that
is clear to others, but something far more subtle. That we are still the
centre of what we call Real. Indeed we may well look far from selfish
in the eyes of others - our lives may well appear to be sacrificial, and
yet still we can be self centered. In a sense this is perhaps why we so
resonate with the story of Martha and Mary. We think it is about the
Active OR the Contemplative life, but in reality it is not that. Martha
is self absorbed. Upset and worried about many things, She sees all that
needs to be done. Her perspective is central. ‘This is the way the
world is!’ She is self centered. It is eminently possible for us to be
like this. Yet it is also eminently possible that like Mary we might be
sat in quiet devotion before the Lord, but still be self centered, for
we have brought all that is on our mind, all our concerns , all our
worries - we can be in prayer at the feet of Jesus and still be upset
and worried about many things. Conversely we can be actively working,
but our heart and mind are with Christ and Him alone. We have learned
the First commandment - Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with
all your soul with all your mind and with all your strength and He is
our Centre. We have come to see that in truth, ‘our only real need is
God’ - we have learned what it means to only do what we see the Father
doing. We can be an Active Mary, or a Contemplative Martha
What is our centre? As we walk through Holy Week with Jesus, we realise
that we are on the edge, not at the centre - most fundamentally, passing
from death to Life. But as we make this journey, something becomes
increasingly clear, that the Scope of this Life is Far more vast than we
had thought, for it is the Life of God into which we die and are born.
To use Ruth Burrows imagery again - we were in a Cave that seemed to
have it all, and our Christian life was to be found within its confines.
‘Our Christian life’ . . . ‘within its confines’. ‘Because of your
little faith. For truly I tell you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, “Move from here to there”,
and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you.’
A moments reflection tells us when we hear these words, that we are in a
Cave - our Faith is Us sized, within comfortable confines - we are
afraid of a faith that moves mountains.
But it is not only the scope
of our faith that we discover to be confined - actually it is our whole
view of this whole business of Salvation. As we walk through Holy Week
and in the years after as the New People of God discover, the Work of
Jesus upon the Cross goes far far far wider than mere ‘personal
salvation’ - that is too small a thing
So I wish to think for a moment about a larger object for the work of Christ. The Church.
And the call is the same - to leave the Cave, where all seems well, yet
it is on a scale we can handle, to go out to the edge. And it seems
clear in these days especially, that the Church is in that same Marginal position as we are as individuals, on the edge
Like the person facing the boundary between life and death, Stood on the
banks of a river - a secure past - an uncertain future. My two former churches
in a sense epitomised these two states. One was by at
least three hundred years the oldest building in the village. It had
always been there. It stood on a crossroads - probably the intersection
of two ancient droving roads and the village had grown up around it. It
was at the heart of the community and although there were many who only
came through the doors for a funeral or wedding, no one thought little
of it and many in the village would lend a hand in one way or another. The other, however was different. The village although it had
similarly historic roots, had not had a church, there being an ancient church only a mile away. So when the church
was finally built it was not in the centre of the village, but on the
edge - outside the city walls, so to speak. What was plain in both cases
was how much church folk wanted to be at the heart of the village. Our view of the church
dominated by the longing to feel all was well and that we weren’t
marginal to the world’s story. For many this was all to do with the
traditional Patrician Vicar - who would chair all of the villages
important committees and generally bless and sanctify all that happened.
[I was, I fear to say a little bit of a disappointment in this regard]. We craved the safety of the Cave..
Our fear of being with Jesus outside the city, on the margin of things,
as I said betrayed our false understanding of where life was to be found.
The idea of church at the centre of things
leaves us with a great sense of security - the idea that we are
Marginal, nay even worse Irrelevant to the lives and concerns of those
amongst whom we live, Most disturbing. And it is all too easy for us as
the Church to try to go back into the City - yet
it was the city that expelled Jesus. They declared Him Irrelevant - in
his nakedness and vulnerability he was thought worthy only of the
Rubbish tip of Golgotha. “I will build my church” Jesus declares, here - Whoever would Be my church - must come to where I am. Where I am, there my disciples will be also.
I have spoken several times these past weeks of how we have disconnected Christ and the Church - that we deny the Glory of the Church,
that we are the Body of Christ. That in False humility and through bad
theology we stand apart saying ‘we are not worthy of that’ - well, how
humble do we have to be, to identify with This Glory? The Son of Man
lifted up upon the Cross - on the rubbish heap, outside the city walls.
Perhaps the problem is that his church is not humble enough, not small enough, not sufficiently insignificant in the eyes of the world to associate with its Lord?
That we too have now been declared irrelevant to the World’s idea of life, places the Church on the bank of the river - on the margin - that we might cross over from death to life.
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