Author: mrgsponderings

Waiting on God

Rainbow over the Lake District, *photo by* ***Gill Henwood***

Waiting on God, is a reflection shared by my friend, Ruth Howes, last week to a Zoom group at St Mary-at- Latton. It draws its inspiraration from Genesis 12: 10-20 and 16

We read in Genesis 12 from verse 10 that because there was a famine in the land of Canaan, God told Abraham to go to Egypt. Abraham was concerned because, we are told, that Sarah was a very beautiful woman, and he was worried that the Egyptians would kill him and take Sarah for themselves. So, Abraham said to Sarah, please tell them you are my sister. Then they will spare my life and treat me well because of their interest in you.

Pharoah did find Sarah attractive, and because he thought that Sarah was Abraham’s sister took her into his palace and didn’t kill Abraham so he could have Sarah. God sent a plague upon Pharaoh, who in fact accused Abraham of it being his fault but Sarah and Abraham were spared from any ill-fate.
Pharaoh said to Abraham, ‘Why didn’t you tell me she was your wife? Why did you say, ‘She is my sister,’ and allow me to take her as my wife? Take her and get out of here’.

I have only skimmed the surface, but it is an intriguing story!!

And it goes on!! In Ch.15, we read that God promised Abraham many things, especially that he would have a son, but Abraham knew that Sarah was barren and that they were getting old, so questioned how this could be? But God assured him it would happen.

I have often thought that surrogacy was something recently used for women who couldn’t have children maybe in the 20^th or 21^st Century. But obviously, this is not so. We are told about it in our reading in Genesis Ch.16, for Sarah, Abraham’s wife.
God promised Sarah that she would have a son. But there was a problem … Sarah couldn’t have children. And even if she hadn’t been barren, she was 90 years old!! As far as Sarah was concerned, there was simply no way God could do it. So, she decided to help Him out!!!!
In those days it was quite normal for women who were barren to be able to use her servant as a surrogate to have a baby for her.
So, Sarah decided that this is what she should do. She got Abraham to agree to go with her servant Hagar in the hopes of having a baby through her. And it worked … sort of. Hagar did have a son, but the situation caused nothing but trouble and ruined their relationship.

God didn’t need or want help. He promised that Sarah herself would have a son. And that’s exactly what happened – 10 years later against all the odds as far as both their ages were concerned.

Waiting on God is hard. When we face impossible situations, do we trust God, and do we try and fix things ourselves?
So often during our prayer time we pray for people we know who are going through a hard time or are poorly and we want nothing more than to see them get better. Sometimes our prayers are for ourselves but the answers we receive are not necessarily the ones we hope and wish for.
God will answer in His own way and in His own time, very often testing our patience and not what we were asking for, because sometimes the answer to our prayers is ‘No’.

If Sarah’s story teaches us anything, it is that God doesn’t need us to help Him do the impossible. He just wants us to trust and wait.

This is a difficult thing to do – to wait!!

Remember, when you were a child, Christmas and Birthdays seem to take an age to come round. Not so now!!! The years go by too quickly!!
Those of us who were fortunate to have children, towards the end of the pregnancy must have felt, as I did, that the baby was never going to arrive. It seemed to go on for ever!!
God had his hand securely on the situation regarding Abraham and Sarah.

So, you see, they didn’t appear in this instance to trust in God which must have caused God to be disappointed in them, and yet despite all of this, God kept His promise that she would have a Son.
What is interesting is that God did not forsake Hagar either and if you have time, it makes good reading.in Genesis 21.

Sarah is known as ‘The mother of the nation of Israel who thought God needed a hand’. Well, he does need us and needs our talents to do His will, but when it comes down to it, it will be His will, not ours.
Our commitment to Him is to wait and see what He calls us to do and respond as best we can. He has promised that he will not give us anything to do that is beyond our capabilities. Yes, sometimes we are tested to the limit, but we can still call on Him to meet the resources we need.

It’s a lesson for all of us – we must trust!!

Ruth Howes

A little bit about the Fox

**Red Fox in Latton Garden photographede by Revd. Lynn Hurry.** *Red is the hue of ardour and the sun’s blazing radiance. To put it another way, witnessing a red fox is an indication of someone who is full of life and enthusiasm. How true that is!*

Readers of this blog last summer may recall that the Foxes which make their home in the garden of the Vicarage at St Mary-at-Latton, Harlow, featured in some of the postings. Mama Fox has now returned with a new partner and very shortly we expect to see the little ones cavorting in their summer playground.
No doubt we shall include photos on the blog. Meanwhile, anticipation got me thinking about Foxes.

A little bit about the Fox.

It must be said that the Fox doesn’t get a good press in The Bible. References are mainly derogatory. Of the two references made by Jesus, one compares the puppet King Herod to a fox – Luke 13:32 – “Go tell that Fox…”. The other reference, of course, in Luke 9:58 when Jesus spoke of the fox having a hole in the ground, whereas he nowhere to lay his head. In Matthew 8, where Jesus used the same words, it was part of a response to a Scribe who wanted to follow Jesus wherever he would go. Jesus warned him that following as a disciple would mean giving up all the comforts and security of his life. Here the fox is used as an illustration rather than a negative comment.

Later views of the Fox varied. In much of Europe the fox was thought to be a sly, cunning, crafty and generally up to no good. In the Far East, the fox was regarded as tricky and deceitful.
St. Francis, with his deep love of the animal world, was interested in the welfare and safety of all creatures and wasn’t specifically concerned for the fox.

It was the Irish Christian church, which we now refer to as Celtic, who had favourable stories about foxes. They referred to the fox as being sometimes naughty but on the whole capable of reform.

St. Cieran, for example, founded a monastery where all the brothers were animals – so legend has it. He believed that all could be reformed, ever Brother Fox and Brother Badger! Some might return to their old ways but could be brought back to the straight and narrow path.

This view is echoed in a conversation between the little Prince and the fox in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s tale, ‘The Little Prince’*

“To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world…”

But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life . I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat…” The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time. “Please, tame me!” he said.”

Whether the foxes-at-Latton can be ‘tamed’ remains to be seen, but certainly, Vicar Lynn will care for them.

Finally, many of you will know the book by Charlie MackesyThe Boy, The Mole, The Fox and The Horse. *
It’s another way of meeting the Fox in a new and special way.

[MrG]

** The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’ is available in a number of editions
** The Boy, The Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy published by Ebury Press RRP. £16.99

God’s spring sunshine flower

*Dandelion photographed in Old Harlow by Mr G*

If someone could invent a garden lawn that was always perfect, never needed mowing and was weed free there is a strong chance that they would be onto a winner.
Meanwhile, those of us with gardens must do the best we can with grass seed, mower and various kinds of weed killers, organic or, perish the thought, otherwise.
At this time of year, along with the grass other, less welcome things grow like daisies, buttercups and dandelions.

Which reminds me of a story of a man who had a beautiful lawn except that Dandelions persisted in growing to spoil the effect. He tried rooting them out but they kept coming back. He tried weedkiller but that only worked for a time.
Finally he wrote, in despair, to the Department of Agriculture (or DEFRA, as it would now be) and he told them all that he had tried to do to eradicate the Dandelion, ending his letter with the question: “What shall I do now?”
In due course he received their reply.“We suggest that you learn to love them.”

For those who want a perfect lawn that’s probably a hard thing to do but actually, the Dandelion is quite a lovely flower. It’s just that it is an unwelcome visitor to our garden. We don’t mind so much when it grows in the hedgerows or by a woodland path or on waste ground but we don’t want it in our gardens.
God, however, seems to have a different idea. He seems to love that sunshine flower we would perhaps prefer to eradicate. There’s no accounting for taste – especially divine taste and God does seem to love a lot of things that we might prefer to reject.

There’s a lesson there for us all to learn.

Meanwhile, I confess that I love Dandelions. They are always welcome in my garden. They brighten the early Spring and they are a wonder to behold.
Maybe if we didn’t take them for granted or, worse, wage war on them, we might appreciate the intricate sun flower in all its bright array.
The golden dandelion, with its intricate and gorgeous leaf formation will still be bringing bright joy to otherwise dull verges, hedgerows, fields, wastelands, and almost anywhere, whatever we feel about them

We should indeed learn to love them, though I am not expecting total agreement about that!

Meanwhile, here’s a little poem by Sister Donna Butler of the Sister of Providence

Unwelcomed
Save by children,
Dandelion,
I declare you
Patron flower
Of prophets.

Who would
believe such power
Lies within
the beauty
of your soft
Geometric fluff
Poised to take
a ride
on the wind
and land in
Uninvited places?

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day ….

An Easter Sermon

And so we come to the morning of the third day and the third part of our unfolding story.

On Friday we witnessed the horrors and anguish of Jesus’ trial and sentence; the violence and agony of the cross and the very human sense of desolation and abandonment that Jesus experiences as he hangs there. And yet, in the midst of the torture, Jesus is still seeking to heal and forgive; still promising hope, relief and restoration as he speaks of Paradise to the repentant thief; still thinking of his friends and followers as he entrusts Mary, his mother and John to each other – creating new ties and bonds: new families. And then, as the agony intensifies, all else drops away and he is held in the eye of the pain and yields all to his Father – ‘it is finished, it is done’ he cries as he commends himself to his Father and gives up his spirit.

And why? Because of the fathomless, bottomless depth of his and his Father’s love for humankind and for the world. The intensity of the agony he goes through only speaks of the sheer intensity of the love that held him there for us.

And then that day of limbo – at least for the disciples and to some extent for us. Holy Saturday: that in-between day of waiting. For Jesus’ friends and followers a day of enforced inaction as they mark the Sabbath. But for Jesus, a day when he descends into Hell to do battle with Death. And a day too, when, as Bishop Jack Nicholls always says, ‘he is looking for his friend, Judas’.

And so we come to the morning of the third day. I love this resurrection story. I love it because it is touching and personal: Mary’s journey from empty despair to bewilderment to joy and excitement. I love it for the setting and the imagery: we begin in the darkness, early in the morning, the light is grey and colourless and there’s a chill in the air. Had Jesus’ friends and disciples spent the Sabbath together? Or had they all dispersed to different houses? Whichever way, unable to do anything to distract themselves, they’d had hours with their thoughts. Quite possibly they’d forced themselves through the celebration of Passover – the food ashen in their mouths as they dwelt on what they’d witnessed – or avoided – at Calvary.

And now, Mary creeps out, in the twilight, desperate to be with her friend and teacher. Desperate to do the last kindnesses to prepare Jesus’ body properly. She steals into the garden, threading her way through the graves to find the tomb where she saw him laid two nights before. And there, she finds the great stone that sealed the tomb rolled away. You can just feel that icy rush of dread as she sees this – confused thoughts rushing through her mind and rising panic that his body has been stolen. And then she’s rushing headlong back to find Peter, to tell him and John what she’s seen, hoping that there might be some explanation.

When they’ve heard what she has to say, they run to the tomb and find it empty – and some sort of realisation comes to them (not that they appear to share this with Mary). But where John and Peter simply see the folded graveclothes, Mary is given more: for once they are gone, she gets to meet the Risen Jesus. I love the detail here: it’s as if Jesus has planned it out carefully and roped in the angels to play along. As Mary looks into the tomb and sees the two of them, they ask (all innocent and butter wouldn’t melt) ‘Why are you weeping?’ and when she has explained, she turns and there’s Jesus, standing at the entrance to the tomb, ready to surprise her. He too plays along a little – ‘Why are you weeping? Who are you looking for?’ he asks. And still she doesn’t recognise him – is this because of her tears? Or is it that he is somehow transformed – that he looks different? Or maybe the possibility of his being alive is just too much to compute…

And then there’s that moment. That moment when he says her name. ‘Mary’. It gets me every time. Here’s the Risen Lord, who went through the agony of the cross for love of all humanity; the one whose now scarred hands flung stars into space at the dawn of time – simply saying her name. He might look different, but that familiar voice – that particular way he has of saying her name – proves it. He’s alive! And all she wants to do is cling to him.

But, this isn’t the time to be lingering at the tomb. It’s a time to rush out and to share the Good News – to tell the others what’s happened. Mary is stepping into a new phase in her calling as a friend and follower of Jesus: the faithful, loving, heart-led Mary becomes Mary the Apostle, bearing the ‘Word of risen hope and new life’ to the other disciples.
This moment of resurrection is also, for her, a moment of new creation and transformation: a moment when her gifts of love and faithfulness are put to a new use by Jesus. Because resurrection is all about new creation – not a bringing back to life, but a stepping into new life.

During Lent we ran a series of sessions on Zoom where we looked at works of art that spoke to us of hope and restoration. At one of these sessions, Julia told us about the Japanese art of Kintsugi – which literally translates as a ‘joining with gold’. Kintsugi practitioners take broken pottery – often tea bowls or saki bowls – and put them back together again using a lacquer called urushi. The very visible join lines are then carefully gilded: this is not about an invisible mend, but about celebrating the story and the journey that the bowl has been on; about making whole; about creating a new thing which is useful once more and which has a unique strength and beauty. These bowls have been through a resurrection and – just like Jesus, they have the ‘glorious scars’ to prove it.

And the same can be said of us: we come to God in our brokenness and we are pieced together again, the gold of God’s forgiveness and grace transforming regret and guilt into strength and unique beauty. This is a new creation where we are born into new life.

Someone who understood this was Peter, who we also heard of in our reading from Acts. There he was speaking of forgiveness – of the fresh start and the slate wiped clean – that is offered in Jesus.
And he should know. When we last met him, he was weeping bitterly, for the cock had just crowed on Friday morning after he had denied knowing Jesus a third time. Peter’s moment of resurrection came days later on the beach, when Jesus asked him ‘do you love me?’ Jesus, almost painfully, asks him three times, but in so doing, he exorcises those three denials, setting Peter free, softening his sharp edges and making him whole again with the gilded urushi of forgiveness. He then entrusts Peter with spreading the Good News and caring for his flock.
Peter’s moment of resurrection is a moment of new creation. His denials could have meant an end to his relationship with Jesus, but instead, this moment of resurrection marks a new beginning. Not so much ‘it is finished’ as ‘it is newly begun.’

Because it seems to me, that that’s what resurrection is. There is, of course, the joyous BOOM! of the Resurrection of Jesus, on that first day of the week, two thousand and twenty-two years ago, but since then, there have been countless, countless individual resurrections. Countless moments of being released into new life: of new creation. Moments of grace and forgiveness; moments of sacrament; moments of calling and moments of responding to those calls.

We are Easter people, called to live resurrection lives. And that’s not going to be a one-off thing. We may well experience important moments of resurrection when we are particularly released into new things, but if we keep ourselves alive to God working in our lives, we’ll notice many of those moments where we encounter Jesus; where we are encouraged anew; where we are healed with gilded urushi and our brokenness is transformed into a new creation; or where Jesus simply speaks our name in that particular way he has… And each of those resurrections deserves its own Alleluia!

One last thought. As I pondered on this morning’s story of Mary and Jesus, an image formed of her, once she’d returned to the disciples to share the good news, taking herself out into the morning sun, for a moment alone, to process all that had happened to her. It struck me that there’s a soundtrack to this – if you can imagine Mary sounding a little like Nina Simone:

Birds flying high – you know how I feel.
Sun in the sky – you know how I feel.
Breeze driftin’ on by – you know how I feel.

It’s a new dawn,
It’s a new day,
It’s a new life for me…
And I’m feeling good!

Go out and live His risen life!

Alleluia!

Piers Northam
sermon preached on Easter Day in St. Mary-at Latton.