Dying and rising

Some random thoughts about dying and rising reflecting on this week's lectionary:

I’ve been thinking this week about Saint Aidan. Saint Aidan brought Christianity around the year 634 to Lindisfarne, Holy Island, where I was on retreat last week. The English in the north were described as “an ungovernable people, and of an obstinate and barbarous temperament.” No one wanted to go and share with these people and it was Aidan at a conference who offered to go. Just like that he seems to have been consecrated bishop and sent out to preach on the island. We learn that although he didn’t want to be there, he knew a large group of people had a real hunger for God. He was not like a normal bishop who rode a horse, he walked around meeting people where they are, at their own level. He shared a message that God loved and accepted everyone.

It is often I think being led somewhere difficult, we find the resources within us to be the person we are meant to be. To die to the world means being different, being put out, not behaving like others do, being Jesus where we are, even when that puts us out. I was reminded yesterday of two quotes of Mother Theresa, who said, “I know that God will not give me anything I can’t handle, I just wish that he didn’t trust me so much.” (Ever had that inner struggle?) But she also said, “I have found the paradox that if I love until love hurts, then there is no hurt, only more love.”

Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground…   

Then maybe we need to think about dying to self, falling in order to rise, dying to the sin that separates us from God, the need for a new heart. Sometimes we simply need to say we need to stop behaving so atrociously and seek a new beginning as people. We get it wrong. We don’t take responsibility for when we get it wrong. Part of our faith is the need to say to God we’ve made a mess, and God reaching out to us and saying we can start again. I think there is a need for some of our ways to fall in life, in order for new fruit to grow. Perhaps we need to show some regret about words we have said, mistakes we have made, wrong decisions, hurt we have caused. Part of what we do when we come to worship is to say sorry, and when we do and really mean it and show we can move on, God comes to us and gives us a new heart and new spirit. Jesus calls us to be selfless and open to being renewed to his agenda  but sometimes we aren’t really that committed to take that seriously. But I believe in the end we shall only grow as a Church if people notice there is a difference in us and we show some regret when self becomes dominant in us. We need a constant commitment to community and to the other. Otherwise, all that will happen is that we will be permanently unhappy. 

Unless a grain of wheat should fall into the ground and die…

And maybe this dying to self, the seed falling and dying in order to bring new life is really healthy. Sometimes when things die, we think it is the end of everything. When a cause finishes, we assume we have failed. I think in today’s church where people have more commitments outside, and less time to be here, we cannot sustain everything we once did.

But actually letting some things go, can lead to new beginnings in different ways. Let me give you an example:

My church at Ashington closed in October 2010. We now have a house group there. We sold the church to a lady who is opening a nursery in a few weeks. On Friday I spent an hour looking at what she has done to the building and to the grounds. It really is lovely, especially a lovely play area outside. She has asked me to be the “local vicar” and go in for specials to share with them when they do God. In many ways, this is a parable I think of dying and rising. We still have a presence and an influence in Ashington. We couldn’t maintain what we had. Without it dying, new life would not have been able to rise. Sometimes we need to let things die, in order to have space to breathe and live healthily.

We need to be people prepared to give, to go to a cross, to die to self in order to enjoy amazing new life. We follow a Jesus who does this, and we are called Christians after him.

I find Jean Vanier's words from The Broken Body a challenge as Holy Week gets nearer... 

This road is not always an easy road to follow. There will be times of discouragement and anger; there will be many setbacks, times of ups and downs, times of doubt. But little by little if you are well accompanied on the journey you will begin to see the light in the darkness, you will drink the water, which springs from arid land.