Mary Magdalene John 20:1-18

 

 “He’s alive!  He’s alive!  I have seen him!  I have seen the Lord!  He is alive I tell you!  Really, He’s alive!  Bear with me, I’m out of breath, sorry I just have to tell everyone…  He’s alive!  I have seen the Lord!  You don’t believe me do you?  These three days have been so strange.  I’m Mary by the way, hi.

I live in Magdala the little village down the road by the sea.  I say I live there but actually I’ve been following Jesus and the disciples around for months now.  I so loved, that man.  I still love him.  He was so good to me.  I have had a bit of a hard life really.  Not the normal life you know.  I had these ‘things’ inside of me.  Seven of them and they kept tormenting me day and night.  They wouldn’t shut up or leave me alone.  I wasn’t nice to be around.  I tried to get better and sort myself out but I only seemed to get worse.  Then, I met Jesus.  I knew there was something different about him straight away.  It was in his eyes.  I couldn’t look at him properly at first he was too, too well, hmmm.  He looked at me as if he knew everything about me.  Where I had been.  What I had been up to.  How I had got into that state.  He knew.  I didn’t have to say.  I was so ashamed I really didn’t want to look at him.  Then he prayed for me.  It was as if all the shutters had been lifted from the windows of my soul and I felt whole again.  The torment of the demons was no more.  He healed me.  I was just well, normal again.  I owe my life to him. I love him so much.  I couldn’t believe he died.

Friday was such an awful day, even the sky turned black.  I can’t believe they executed him, hung him on a cross for all to see his pain and agony.  They let that Barabbas off and yet they killed my Jesus.  I was there you know, with his mum.  She was so distraught.  We cried and cried and cried until we had no tears left and we were exhausted.  He was alone on the cross; there was nothing we could do.  He shouted out, ‘My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?’  People were taunting him to come off the cross and save himself.  But he didn’t, he died.  I know he died.  I saw the soldier stick the spear in his side and watched the blood and water come out.

I was up early this morning.  I couldn’t sleep with all that had gone on so I went to find Jesus’ body.  I took the best perfume I could find to go and anoint him.  I know Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea had already anointed his body and wrapped it in strips of linen but, well, you know what men are like at such things.  I wanted to go and do a proper job as a sign of my love.  He was my Lord after all.  I took my two friends with me, Mary and Salome so they could help me roll the stone from the entrance to the tomb. It was dark when we got there.  It’s an eerie place at the best of times.  When we reached the tomb, it was so strange, the stone had already been rolled back.  I went straight in and, no Jesus, he wasn’t there.  I thought someone must have taken him.  Where was his body?  We needed to anoint him properly?  I ran off to find help.  I don’t know what the other two were doing.  I didn’t stop to ask.  I had to get help.  I ran into Simon Peter and another of the disciples who were on their way to the tomb.  I said, ‘They have taken the Lord, and we don’t know where they have taken him!’ We all ran back to the tomb Simon Peter went off like a rocket.  I couldn’t keep up. 

When they had seen with their own eyes that Jesus was missing the disciples went back to tell the rest.  I didn’t know what to do.  I was so upset.  I just stood there outside the tomb and cried my eyes out again.  Who would do this?  As I was pouring my soul out to God searching for an answer these two men appeared, shinning before me.  They were angels.  I know they were messengers from God; they had to be.  He had heard my cry.  They asked me, ‘Why are you crying?’  So I told them straight, they have taken my Lord away and that I didn’t know what they had done with his body.  Something made me turn around at this point and there was another man there.  The gardener, I think, well I thought he was.  He said, 'Women, why are you crying and who are you looking for?’  ‘Sir’, I said, I feel such a fool now, but I didn’t know.  ‘Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.’  He looked at me as if he new everything about me and said, ‘Mary.’  It was my ‘Rabboni’, my teacher; it was Jesus who was looking into my very soul.  I knew those eyes after all, but I recognized his voice first.  I wanted to hug him forever, but he told me to let go and not to cling to him.  He told me I had to let him go as he had not gone to his Father yet.  So I did.  I didn’t want to but I did.  I felt so honoured that he had come to see me before he had even gone up to heaven to see his Father.  Parting was so hard but, I had to tell the others, I had to tell everyone.  I had to tell you.  He’s alive!  Jesus he is alive!”

Psalm 24

Psalm 24

 

Picture yourself if you will in ancient Israel.  It is early autumn and the sun is warm on your back.  The birds are singing above your head.  You drink in the beauty of the landscape. The fruits of the field, pomegranates, figs, olives, and grapes are all ripe for the picking.  Sheep and goats are grazing on the hillsides.  The stream meanders its way through the valley.  All that lies before you was created by God, and it still belongs to God.  The God who created the chaos of the ever moving seas also created the stillness and order of the land.  The God who created all of those things created you, and knew you before you were born.  He knows the number of hairs on your head and your name is written on the palm of his hand.  You are loved by the creator who deals with the business of the day, and yet still makes time for you.  He has all the time in the world for you, you are his child. 

Today is a day of merriment and excitement, the trumpeters are out and the crowd is singing songs.  You stand in amongst the crowd that pushes and pulls you through the valley.  The dust from the road covers your feet and gets into your clothes, and hair, and eyes.  But you don’t care about that you follow the crowd as they sing.  You need a drink of water, but there will be time for that later, you sing at the top of your voice.  You love to praise your God.  You follow the crowd as it winds happily through the olive trees that smell so wonderful and up into the hills.  The journey is tiring, you feel out of breath, but you keep going.  The music and the crowd’s jubilance keep up your morale.  The trumpeting and clashing of cymbals and the rhythm of the drum help you to keep pace with the march.  Many are dancing, many are laughing, and all are joining in the song.  You will get there soon enough but you really can’t wait.  The eagerness bubbles up inside of you; like a waterfall it wants to spill over.  There is no holding it back.  There is no holding you back.  You are going to meet with God today.  You are going to meet with God today.  You are going to meet with God today!  What will he tell you?  What will he want of you?  What is the next stage in your journey of life? 

You reach the foot of mount Zion, you are there!  In the distance your eyes can see the enormous barred gates, the entrance to the temple.  Will you be allowed in?  We shout up ‘Who may ascend the hill of the Lord?  Who may stand in his holy place?’  The gate keeper responds ‘He who has clean hands and a pure heart, who does not lift up his soul to an idol or swear by what is false.  He will receive blessing from the Lord and vindication from God his Saviour.’  We affirm these conditions by shouting back ‘such is the generation of those who seek him, who seek your face, O God of Jacob.’  We climb the hill. Out of breath we enter its ancient gates.  We enter the temple.  Here is our God, here is our maker.  Here is our Lord and Saviour.  But we feel small and insignificant in the vastness of his Temple.  Are we really worthy to enter God’s presence?    

 

All Aboard?

As I opened my front door this morning I was greeted by fog.  I got into the car to take my husband to the station.  I knew the direction I wanted to go in but I couldn’t quite see everything in front of me.  It wasn’t until I was right upon something that it became clear.  Inch by inch the direction of our path was revealed in front of us.  I dropped him off at the station where he took the express train to London.  I went back home.  I was cold and my bed that I had not long left seemed inviting.  The pull was strong. I couldn’t resist.  I got back into bed.  Snuggling down I felt the familiarity of the warmth that was still there from before.  Pulling the covers back over my head I felt the comfort and reassurance of my bed.  I began to dream…

I am on the express train of a church that has fantastic mission ideas that are working well and bringing more and more people through the doors.  They have invited me to the buffet carriage.  They feed me, they encourage me, they show me how they make this mouth watering sandwich that people cannot get enough of.  They pray with me, they fill me full of wonderful ideas, they equip me, they pay my fare because I have no money in my pocket and I have lost my ticket.  I take a leap of faith as I mind the gap getting off at the next station.  I stand on the platform feeling slightly bewildered but encouraged by the excitement of the express train, I wait patiently for my own train that chugs slowly into the station.  I get on and set to work in the buffet carriage making my own sandwiches using the ideas that I have picked up.  The sandwiches are not exactly the same as the ones before but people start to like them.  The sandwiches get better and people become hungrier for more.  Soon word gets around and more and more people start to get on the train that is now no longer chugging but going at great speed.  We stop at a station.  There is someone like me standing there; they are not me they have other gifts and abilities but they need encouraging.  I invite them on and we head off to the buffet carriage so they can be fed and sample our sandwiches.

Today is a new day that beckons possibilities.  We can return to the comfort of our warm and familiar bed or we can find our way through the fog and take the express train of interdependence.  True interdependence through our churches where we encourage one another, share ideas, pool resources, are accountable to one another and pray for one another.  Where we laugh, joke, and cry with one another sharing both the good and the bad.  Being honest with one another.  When I needed a neighbour, where you there, were you there?  I was hungry and thirsty, were you there, were you there? The creed and the colour and the name of the train don’t matter, were you there?  I dream of a Baptist union where we travel on the express train of true interdependence…  
 All aboard!

Banksy Christmas present

I have always loved Banksy's work which aims to provoke a reaction from its onlookers. Banksy's latest Christmas present is no exception. Have a look at the link below to see what I mean as he helps us to think about the true meaning of Christmas, minus the corruption that can be found around us, including in the Church itself.

Banksy artwork takes a swipe at church abuse | Christian News on Christian Today

I wish I lived in a world where the church was free from sexual, emotional, physical and spiritual abuse but I don't. Church reflects the problems of society and is made up of people from that same society. Christ seeks to bring light to the darkness. May he bring light to the corruption that exists in our churches and in our imperfect lives this Christmas.


A couple of years ago I went to a Banksy exhibition in Bristol.  Here is another of his...

Christmas

It is so hectic this time of year its a wonder that anyone has time to stop and think about the real meaning of Christmas and to gaze in wonder at the Christ-child.  Christmas has become for many about presents and an excuse to get drunk.  As I rush around preparing for Christmas services and visiting those who are housebound and sick I wish the world would slow down, just for a moment.  I bought a present for a little girl who is currently in hospital a few days ago, a monkey that laughed when you tickled it.  I put it in a bag with some tambourines that I had bought for church.  Every time I knocked the bag the sound of laughing and rattling could be heard, much to the amusement of me and my fellow shoppers.  I was still laughing along with the monkey some hours later.  Unfortunately the monkey made the little girl cry, but that's another story. 

As I reflect on the birth of Jesus this Christmas I pray that you will find time in your busy schedule to stop and do the same.  I hope that your Christmas will contain fun and laughter and many blessings in wonderful and unexpected ways.

 

Its been some time since my last confession

My first year of ministry has been rather hectic so I have not really had time to blog.  Hopefully I will get back in the swing of it again soon.  I was encouraged recently by one of my deacons telling me that her friend had been reading my blog and suddenly realized who I was.  At least I know my words have not been completely wasted. 

We had a great week of prayer a couple of weeks ago.  Everyone was encouraged to try as many sessions as they could and to try different ways of active praying, such as, praying through art, praying through walking, praying through music, and praying through writing.  Here is my contribution from the day on writing.  God does speak in some mysterious ways - here is my confession, however, I would point out I have never done drugs....!

Its been sometime since my last confession.

I don't know how long its been.

I know I missed the bus last week and shouted out and screamed.

If only I'd have been on time.

If only that man from number forty-nine hadn't made me read that sign.

What was he trying to tell me?

What was he trying to say?

'Keep off the grass' it read.

Its been sometime since my last confession.