Adonai

John 18:1-19:42


“It is to the Cross that the Christian is challenged to follow his Lord: no path of redemption can make a detour around it.”
― Hans Urs von Balthasar




window detail - Rhug Chapel
I remember, Lord, the ‘Come and See’. Remember, I came; following, listening, learning. Full of joy, full of hope – the New Day was going to dawn, the Kingdom of God was near.

I did not come to ‘see’ this, Lord; standing ankle deep in the waste of the city, tears streaming silently down my face, my mouth full of blood as I bite down on my tongue to stop myself from crying out. For I do not want these others to know that I know you.

I don’t know you.

The fear, the demons, the hopelessness comes cawing back and you are not here to save me. The crowd shouts out to you ‘Save yourself’ and I truly believe that you could – even now, you could. 


But there is some other purpose at work here. You have nothing left; and nothing left to prove; your light is too bright for them and they have closed their eyes against it.

What sort of plan was this? You had driven me here with the message of love and forgiveness. But who got the message? The plan has gone wrong. If not, how is it right? The meek were going to inherit but all I have is this hill, the town dump. Was this what I was supposed to see?

Then a sound, perhaps just a turn in the wind; ‘Abba’. That you still call Him this, now, when surely, if He were here, He could just reach down and lift you out of this. Under my breath, I begin to say the words, the prayer you taught me. And at the end, ‘deliver us from evil’ - if you are here Abba, take your Son –deliver him from the evil that we have all done this day.

The wind drops and this time I know it is your voice – ‘Father, into your hands’. The wind rises, hot and as sudden as a sirocco; and you are gone. And, at that moment, I know in my soul - there is no power on earth that can save; at the end, not even you. 


Only the Father has that power, only the Father will bring us home.

Father, into your hands…






“Our father. We have killed him, and we will kill him again, and our world will kill him. And yet he is there. It is he who listens at the door. It is he who is coming. It is our father who is about to be born. Through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
― Frederick Buechner


wordinthehand2012

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Listen

Image
Jesus said: ‘I tell you most solemnly, anyone who does not enter the sheepfold through the gate, but gets in some other way is a thief and a brigand. The one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the flock; the gatekeeper lets him in, the sheep hear his voice, one by one he calls his own sheep and leads them out. When he has brought out his flock, he goes ahead of them, and the sheep follow because they know his voice. They never follow a stranger but run away from him: they do not recognise the voice of strangers.’ Jesus told them this parable but they failed to understand what he meant by telling it to them. So Jesus spoke to them again: ‘I tell you most solemnly, I am the gate of the sheepfold. All others who have come are thieves and brigands; but the sheep took no notice of them. I am the gate. Anyone who enters through me will be safe: he will go freely in and out and be sure of finding pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I have come so
Read more

The servant’s name was Malchus.

Image
Easter Midrash  An imagined story of Good Friday  "The servant’s name was Malchus." John 18:10 The servant's name is Malchus. I am not dead yet, rather, far from it. I don't know how others felt when they were healed but the inside of a miracle is a place of light and clarity beyond any new dawn. The complex weaving of skin only reflecting the myriad unravelling of thoughts and memories below the surface. Paths of life's story being made straight. My name is Malchus. Named by my mother. Her bedtime tale that I was named after the appearance, in Jerusalem, of regal scholars from the East. Magi seeking a king who had not yet been born. A slave herself, she had stood holding a lamp as the temple priests and scribes argued amongst themselves; no-one wishing to tell Herod that the prophecy was not for his line. When I was born just a few days later, I became her little 'king'. That's what Malchus means. I didn't thank her for it. Growing up
Read more

The Fourth Shepherd

Image
There are many characters in the story of the Nativity but one that we rarely hear of is the Fourth Shepherd. When the angels came that night to bring the Good News, they began with the most unlikely. Shepherds were a tough lot, weathered and self-reliant,  who had to survive out on the hills protecting their flock from the weather, the wolves and their own stupidity.  Once the shepherds had gotten over the shock and wonder of the glory of heaven shining all around them, they immediately wanted to go and find the baby; the lights of Bethlehem beckoned as brightly as the stars – ‘Come and see’. The could barely stop to wrap their cloaks around them. They took hold of  their staffs and each caught a light from the fire.  All except one. One young shepherd remained seated, looking into the fire. When the others asked him why he wasn’t ready, he replied that he was; he was ready to stay behind and take care of the flock. The other shepherds shook their heads w
Read more