Pilgrim Soldier

In his book on Christian Community, “Life Together” Dietrich Bonhoeffer wrote these words:

“The Old Testament day begins at evening and ends with the going down of the sun. It is the time of expectation. The day of the New Testament church begins with the break of day and ends with the dawning light of the next morning. It is the time of fulfilment, the resurrection of the Lord. At night Christ was born, a light in the darkness; noonday turned to night when Christ suffered and died on the Cross. But in the dawn of Easter morning Christ rose in victory from the grave.”

At dawn on that first Easter morning, almost 2000 years ago, there was no hope; there was only desolation in the hearts of that handful of women who made their way to the garden tomb to anoint the body held within. It must have been a sombre and soul-destroying walk from their rented rooms to that borrowed grave.

Imagine for a moment the horror there must have been when they saw the tomb lying open. Surely it must have brought into their minds the ultimate finale to the events they had witnessed. Not only had Jesus been brutally flogged; not only had he been nailed to a cross; but now his burial place had been desecrated. How much more were they doing to have to bear?

But then, as they peered through the entrance to see the damage they feared had been done, they saw an angel; an angel who pronounced that Jesus was no longer there but had risen to life again.

This is the message that is the centre of our hope; this is the message that forms the centre of the gospel which we are called to proclaim!

This was no ordinary resurrection, if there can be such a thing. This was not the sort that we read of in the Old Testament or even like those in Jesus’ miracles. No this resurrection was unlike any ever witnessed, either before or since, for Jesus died full of our sin but rose empty of it. He took our sins to hell and then left them there so that we could stand blameless before our God.

This is the hope of this morning’s dawn; this is the hope of Easter; this is the hope of the gospel; that Jesus died and rose again, so that all who declare Jesus as Lord may not only live in eternity with him, but may also be signposts of that hope in this dark world.

The reality of faith is the reality of love. You can’t smell, touch, taste or hear love, but you can see its effects in the acts born from it, in the relationships built upon it, the art inspired by it and in the lives transformed by its goodness. So it is with faith. The reality of faith is visible in those millions of daily acts of kindness and love that are born from it. Acts done not in self-interest, not as a down payment for a ticket to the life eternal. These are the selfless, costly, grace-filled, Christ-inspired acts that make our lives richer than that of any number of lottery winners.

Dr John Sentamu, Archbishop of York
Easter is about life. That’s why we make so much noise
in Sunday Telegraph 8th April 2007 accessed 11th April 2007

When I worked for the Anglican Communion in the late 90’s I had the pleasure of meeting the Archbishop, whilst be was still Bishop of Stepney, and he came across then as one of the less ’stuffy’ bishops in the Church. He seems to be using his current position to advocate for the things he believes are essential to the faith, and given my own viewpoint on this subject I couldn’t resist posting this quote.

If there was more evidence in the world of the Christ-inspired acts that should result out of our faith, then the world would not be such a terrible place to be at the moment!

With an additional day off today, I’ve been catching up with my reading around various blogs. Found the following quote over at Waving or Drowning? and felt compelled to repost.

The interpretation of Easter itself has been scrunched into the trap laid by modernity, and the Church has gone along with it. Either Easter becomes a happy little ending for an otherwise sad story, or it’s about bunnies and daffodils, or it’s the bald affirmation that there is after all a life after death. Modernity can cope with all those (hardly surprising, since it generated them in the first place). None of them would have made any sense to the first Christians, least of all the last: almost everyone believed in life after death, but Easter meant life after “life after death” – a new bodily existence after a period of being bodily dead.

What neither modernity nor cynical postmodernity can cope with – and hence what they, like the cultural thought police of the first century, stamp on whenever they see it – is the suggestion that the gloom of Good Friday and the lull of Holy Saturday are the prelude to a new kind of life. This sort of life bursts out and challenges all our power systems (in an electronically manipulated democracy, power follows money and the media), and declares once more the shockingly unfashionable truth that Jesus is Lord.

Easter is about the beginning of God’s new world. John’s Gospel stresses that Easter Day is the first day of the new week: not so much the end of the old story as the launch of the new one. The gospel resurrection stories end, not with “well, that’s all right then”, nor with “Jesus is risen, therefore we will rise too”, but with “God’s new world has begun, therefore we’ve got a job to do, and God’s Spirit to help us do it”. That job is to plant the flags of resurrection – new life, new communities, new churches, new faith, new hope, new practical love – in amongst the tired slogans of idolatrous modernity and destructive postmodernity.
N.T.Wright

Christmas Is Really For The Children

Christmas is really
for the children.
Especially for children
who like animals, stables,
stars and babies wrapped
in swaddling clothes.
Then there are wise men,
kings in fine robes,
humble shepherds and a
hint of rich perfume.

Easter is not really
for the children
unless accompanied by
a cream filled egg.
It has whips, blood, nails,
a spear and allegations
of body snatching.
It involves politics, God
and the sins of the world.
It is not good for people
of a nervous disposition.
They would do better to
think on rabbits, chickens
and the first snowdrop
of spring.

Or they’d do better to
wait for a re-run of
Christmas without asking
too many questions about
what Jesus did when he grew up
or whether there’s any connection.
Steve Turner, Up to Date, (1987) Hodder and Stoughton, London

“They killed him on a tree but God raised him from the dead on the third day and caused him to be seen.” Acts 10:39-40 (NIV)

My favourite part of Easter is the story of the Road to Emmaus. Here were 2 people whose lives had been shattered and were amongst the first to see the risen Lord! What must have been their thoughts about this stranger who shared their journey? What must have been their feelings when they realised who he was?