Links:

• Introduction
• Contents

A Contemporary Story: Rani Remembers

Rani stood at the window and gazed at the bush.  It was Easter Sunday.  The sun had risen about an hour ago.  There was a stillness in the air. Colin and the children were asleep. It was too early for breakfast before they left for the Church.  From deep within her Rani recalled memories of another Easter morning in her country of birth. Sri Lanka. Her body tensed as she recalled the massacre that Easter morning when over two hundred men, women and children were killed.  If she had left her parent’s home 30 minutes earlier to meet with friends in one of the hotels that was bombed, she might have been a victim of the terrorist attack too. She shivered as memories and ‘what ifs’ made her wonder why she had been late that morning.  What if she had been on time? Was it God’s will that she was late?  She had asked herself such questions so many times

As she continued to look out at the bush Rani’s thoughts wandered to the year when bush fires had gone through her town. She remembered the burnt remains of houses and gardens. The smell of smoke when gum trees exploded and flames turning the sky red. She thought of two families she knew whose homes had been destroyed in the fire.  She had tried to pray for them but couldn’t find the right words. Why was her house spared while other houses were destroyed? She had no answers, only the screech of birds as they had flown frantically out from the burning bush.

Her daughter’s voice called out “Mum has the Easter bunny come?” 

 Rani’s day had begun.  A few hours later Colin and Rani were in church with their children.  As she greeted friends and sat in their regular place she quietened her thoughts and tried to concentrate on the music, the singing and the prayers.  But in her mind were flashes from burning bush fires, running with her children to the evacuation centre, the sound of fire engines and ambulances.  She closed her eyes and tried to concentrate, while trying not to remember the dead and dying in the terrorist attack on another Easter Sunday.  She wondered if there was life after death.  She heard the Gospel being read. The familiar passage of Mary Magdalene seeing a risen Jesus and crying “He is alive”. 

The Service of Worship ended.  As she walked out with her family she carried her memories and questions with her. She thanked God silently that her family had survived that bush fire and that her neighbourhood had been restored. She was thankful that her family and friends in Sri Lanka were safe from anxiety and fear. She wondered if the events of the resurrection of Jesus was a beautiful story that she believed.  Or was it an event that thousands of years later gave her hope for the future?  Rani knew that Jesus’ tomb was empty and that she had faith in a risen Christ.

Rani returned home and began laying their table for the special family lunch on Easter Sunday.  She was thankful.

Pray:

God you showed yourself to us in Jesus Christ.  Even though I cannot see it yet, give me hope for life after life because Jesus lives.

Links:

• Introduction
• Contents

The Open Tomb
Mary Magdalene and Jesus

Texts:  

Mark 16:1-11; Matthew 27:57-28:20; Luke 24:1-53; John 20:1-21:25.

The Setting: 

Mary Magdalene came from Magdala which was known to be a notorious fishing village that was destroyed about 75 C.E.  The Gospel of Luke refers to her as a woman from whom seven demons had come out.  She is mentioned by all four Gospel writers as one of the women who followed Jesus and who were present at Jesus crucifixion. She was the first at the empty tomb where he had been buried, the first to meet and talk with the risen Jesus and the first to witness to the disciples.

Retelling the story: 

What follows is a retelling based on the biblical narrative. It is a composite rendering based on the records in all four Gospels. It is by reading into the silences around events and people in the text that this imagined creative reflection is written.

Mary Magdalene reflects:  

The day I left my village in Magdala and went into the city was the day that changed my life. Many people knew who I was and avoided me. There was a belief that I was possessed by demons.  As I walked I could see in the distance the man named Jesus with a group of people. I had heard of him and that he was a healer. I had nothing to lose. So I pushed my way through the crowd till I stood in front of him. He then healed me from an ailment that had troubled me for many years.  Watching me were a group of women. Later I learned that they provided resources for Jesus and his followers as they travelled. I joined the women and followed Jesus. I listened to his teachings. I marvelled at the miracles he performed. Most importantly I believed the good news of the Kingdom of God that Jesus talked about. I was aware of rumours that the leaders in the Temple in Jerusalem were gathering information to build a case against Jesus. There were also Roman soldiers who were watching us to make sure we didn’t create trouble in the city.

 My fears for his safety began to increase. There was something different from the day he entered Jerusalem riding on a donkey with the crowds shouting ‘Hosanna!’ And then he angered the High Priest and leaders in the Temple when he cleared the Court of the Gentiles which had become a market place rather than a place for prayer. It was during the celebration of the Passover Festival that we noticed a change come over him.  He warned us repeatedly that his death was near. Then came the night when Jesus and his disciples gathered in an upstairs room to celebrate the Passover meal. He washed the feet of the disciples. He talked of the bread and the wine as his broken body given to save the world. He talked of the betrayal that would soon occur and named Judas, son of Simon Iscariot, as the one who would betray him that night. I couldn’t believe such news. How could a disciple betray his Master? Something wasn’t right.

 The rest of the night became a blur to me.  As the night wore on news came that Pilate had condemned Jesus to be crucified. We felt helpless. Our tears flowed as we clung to each other and prayed. As Jesus was brought to Golgotha carrying the cross some of us wailed.  Others jeered and called him names. As soldiers nailed him to the cross he looked down at us. Mary, his mother, her sister Mary, a disciple and I stood by the cross. Helplessly and in agony ourselves we watched him die. We walked away when his body was brought down from the cross. I asked myself why his Father didn’t spare him the violence of the Cross. 

In silence we returned to the room where the disciples had gathered. We felt abandoned and afraid. I remember wondering if this was really the end. I couldn’t sleep during the night that followed. As the day dawned I crept out of the house and found my way to the tomb where I knew Jesus had been laid.  As I drew near I could see that the stone to the entrance of the tomb had been rolled away.  Had someone stolen his body? I couldn’t see anyone around so I ran back to the house where Simon Peter and the others were still gathered. I cried “They have taken our Lord out of the tomb and we don’t know where they have laid him.” Peter and another disciple ran ahead of us women as we went back to the tomb. They looked into the tomb and found the linen wrappings folded and lying there. Not knowing what we should do next, the disciples and the women returned to the house. I couldn’t go back with them. My grief was too deep. I sat by the empty tomb and wept. Something prompted me to look up. A man was standing before me. I thought it was the gardener and asked him to tell me where he had taken the body of my Lord. I waited for his answer. Instead I heard a familiar voice say “Mary!” I turned. All I could say was “Rabboni!” (Master!) as I reached out to touch him. Jesus stopped me and said “Do not hold on to me because I have not yet ascended to my Father. But go to my brothers and say to them I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

I ran back to the disciples with my heart overflowing with joy. I burst into the room and shouted “I have seen the Lord!” They looked at me with disbelief. But I knew I had seen and talked with my Lord. He was alive! Sadly no one believed me.

Ponder:  

Mary Magdalene came to the tomb to mourn the dead. She left as the first person to see and speak with the risen Christ.

What does her story and witness say to us beyond the Easter story?

Links:

• Introduction
• Contents

A Contemporary Story: Where Are You, God?

Rosie reflects: She closed her eyes and let the rhythms of the train soothe her mind as she headed home. She was hungry and tired.  It was the 2nd week of her Lenten fast.  She tried to shut out the voices of her parents and their ceaseless conversations and arguments, as the train arrived at her station and she walked home.

Her parents were well known and well respected in the community.  Her father was a solicitor in a high-powered legal practice.  Her mother was the CEO of a Computer Firm. They were both leaders in the local church where her father was a Council member. She would often cry as she thought of her brother who had left their home. He had rejected all of them and was now addicted to drugs and a life of homelessness.  

The church and her Christian school had been the centre of her early years.  She had continued to live in the shadow of her parents during her university years.  There were times when she felt that God was calling her to be an ordained Minister in the Church. Some of the gloss wore off when she enrolled for a Medical degree.  She tried to separate her religious beliefs from the academic world. She found herself challenged when trying to find connections between faith and science, between changing ethical and social issues and the world of her parents. She questioned the miracles and healing stories in the Bible as she wondered why her parent’s prayers for her brother were not answered. She wondered why she kept silent when her boyfriend asked “Why do we need God?” to which someone else had replied:  “We don’t. To me it sounds like a hoax.”  Her girl friend had added “Dad always says religion is packaged in traditions that don’t exist anymore”. Rosie hadn’t had the courage to defend her beliefs.  

Rosie walked home with questions that were never far away from her thoughts. What did her friends think about Good Friday?  Did Jesus sacrifice himself for the sins of the world? If he did why was there so much evil in the world today?  Where was God when her parents prayed for her brother’s return home?

She sighed and kept walking home.

Pray:

God, are you even there?  Have I been asking the wrong questions?  Today, please, if you are there, please give me a little sign that my faith has not been built on nonsense. 

Links:

• Introduction
• Contents

Crucify Him!
The Trial and Crucifixion of Jesus

Texts:  

John 18;12-42,ch.19; Matthew 26:47–27:53; Mark 14:43-15:42; Luke 22:47-23:55.

The Setting:  

All four Gospels record the arrest of Jesus, his trial, the verdict, the crucifixion and his burial. Caiaphas, the High Priest of the Temple and Jewish leaders felt justified in arresting Jesus. It was their belief that as the so-called Messiah he was preparing a rebellion.  Caiaphas and the Council had agreed to put Jesus to death.  Jesus was silent against his accusors questions. Finally Caiaphas said “You must tell us the truth. Are you the Messiah, the Son of God”. Jesus replied “Yes I am”. Tearing his robes, Caiaphas shouted “You heard him claim to be God! What is your decision?” They all agreed that he should be put to death. The next morning the Council, the Chief Priest and teachers of Jewish Law had Jesus tied up and led to Pilate, the Governor of the Province, to pass judgement.

Retelling the story: 

What follows is a retelling based on the Biblical narrative. It is a composite rendering based on the accounts in all four Gospels and is an imagined creative reflection.

Rachel reflects:  

As I opened my door Esther rushed in shouting breathlessly “Hurry! They have arrested the Teacher Jesus.  Caiaphas has sent him to Pilate to be tried.  We’ve got to go. Hurry!”. I picked up my shawl, took one look to make sure that Jacob was with our sleeping son, and ran to keep up with Esther. The sounds in the distance were ominous. “What happened?” I shouted.  

Esther filled me in. When Caiaphas’ soldiers arrested Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane, the disciples and the group of women who had been with him, had fled. Esther and a few women had decided to find the disciples. They had found Peter sitting dejectedly in the court yard of the Palace.  He looked as if he had been crying.  He said that a servant girl had recognised him as one of the men who had been with Jesus. Peter had denied knowing Jesus just as dawn broke.

We had reached the outskirts of Pilate’s Palace by then. Jesus was being questioned while some of the Priests were encouraging the crowd outside to shout and accuse Jesus.  We saw Pilate appear.  He had Jesus and the terrorist Barabbas on either side of him. I watched as Pilate asked “Which of these two men should be released?” A cry went up. “ Barabbas!  Barabbas!” I couldn’t believe it. The angry crowd shouted “Nail him to a cross!” I was shaking. An innocent man was being condemned to death in the cruellest possible way.

I would have turned back then.  But the frenzied crowd kept pushing us forward in the direction of Golgotha where crucifixions were held. Jesus was being whipped. A thorny circle of twigs was pressed into his head. Jesus could barely drag the wooden cross that was laid on his shoulders.

Esther was the first to spot Mary Magdalene, Jesus’ mother Mary and a few other disciples watching the terrible events taking place. Jesus was then nailed to the cross and hoisted up. Two unnamed thieves were also on crosses. We heard Jesus calling on God his Father to forgive the crowd and the criminals. Jesus’ mother Mary was being supported by two disciples.  Jesus looked at her and gave her into the protection of a disciple. By now the sky was darkening.  The crowd was beginning to grow quiet.  Something unusual was happening. We heard Jesus call out to God again. It was a desolate cry. He wanted water to drink. A soldier gave him a sponge dipped in wine.  His battered and bleeding body collapsed. It looked as if his life had ended.  With a final cry Jesus committed his spirit to his Father and died. We heard a Roman Officer who was standing in front of the cross say “This man really was the Son of God!”

It was all over. Supporting each other Esther and I walked back home. The events I had witnessed will stay with me forever. An innocent man had been crucified.

Ponder: 

How would you justify or explain the violence that surrounds the crucifixion, to a person who has been a victim of violence today?

Links:

• Introduction
• Contents

A Contemporary Story: Why God, Why?

Kevin was now about 100kms away from his home.  He had ceased noticing his surroundings or which little town he was in as he stopped to re-fill his car.  Noticing a small motel across the road he drove in, parked and walked to the reception desk.  Minutes later he was in a room with the bare essentials in it. Feeling emotionally drained Kevin threw himself on the bed. He closed his eyes and felt tears running down his face.

In a suburban home miles away Stella held their 5 year old son in her arms and rocked him.  She no longer had tears as she held him close.  Her arms were stiff from holding him in the same position since they returned from the hospital.  Was it 2 hours or 5 hours ago? She didn’t know. It didn’t matter. Her lips moved in soundless prayer as they had done since their son was diagnosed with leukaemia. At first, they had made plans to ask for a second diagnosis. The verdict that his cancer was spreading rapidly and that there was nothing more that was medically possible was a severe blow to their hopes of a cure.

As the weeks passed the little boy lost his energy and his appetite. He would look at his parents with pain in his eyes pleading for help.  At such times they felt more helpless than ever.  No easy answers came to them.  Family and friends visited often and offered help.  They would do what they could and go away.  A small group at Stella’s mother’s church had formed a prayer roster to pray for her son.  The silence between Kevin and Stella was increasing. Their son’s pleading eyes were destroying their relationship. She had kept praying looking for signs that God was listening to her pleas.  She wanted to believe that her prayers would give her hope – hope that modern medicine would bring a cure. She knew that praying gave no guarantee of healing. Yet she prayed as the child in her arms slipped away. Somewhere deep within her she began to feel that God was close to them. That her son would be safe. 

In his room in the motel Kevin continued to shed tears.  He knew he should have stayed with his son and Stella. He knew he should have given more support.  He knew.  He felt the anguish erupting from within him. He heard himself shout:  “Why God, Why?”  No answer came. Only tears and the silence that surrounded him.

Pray:

God who weeps with us, in the depths of a dust storm of fear and impossible questions, help me to know your presence in the darkness and feel your tears.