Ashes and Angels - a journey into Lent

We are about to go back to Hailsham after an extended holiday. I’ve not been in a good place while away but some holy places have put me back together. When you reach rock bottom mentally and physically you need help and I’m glad to have found it through worship and conversation in the last few days. 

Our journey over the last few days has taken us from the peace of Lindisfarne where regular evening prayer and some pastoral help from the new vicar has been a real comfort; to Durham Cathedral for evensong; to Bradford Cathedral to visit my friend Louise’s exhibition of fabric on the theme of lament; to Peterborough Cathedral for Sunday morning Eucharist then evensong; then finally Sunday evening service at my former church in Oakham with a really good and sincere local preacher from Thurlby, giving us a meditation on temptation. Resisting - not - a doughnut in Sheringham!

I’ve been struck how powerful the psalter is about the human condition when it’s struggling. Who says the Bible has nothing to say about today! What about these?

In Durham Cathedral, a place where I’ve sat in crisis in the past and found it as powerful this time, I heard the Psalmist struggle being kicked in the shins hard by so called friends he trusted: 

“Yea, mine own familiar friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread, hath lifted up his heel against me.” (Psalm 41: 9)

In Bradford Cathedral, I read these words. The Psalmist sobs at his lot: 

“You have kept count of my tossing; put my tears in your bottle, are they not in your record?” (Psalm 56:8)

In Peterborough Cathedral I heard the Psalmist feeling he was worthless:

“For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; yet do I not forget your statutes” (Psalm 119:83) 

 The skins used for containing wine, when emptied, were hung up in the tent, and when the place reeked with smoke the skins grew black and sooty, and in the heat they became wrinkled and worn. The Psalmist's face through sorrow had become dark and dismal, furrowed and lined; indeed, his whole body had so sympathized with his sorrowing mind as to have lost its natural moisture, and had become like dry skin. His character had been smoked with slander, and his mind parched with persecution; he was half afraid that he would become useless and incapable through so much mental suffering, and that people would look upon him as an old worn out skin bottle, which could hold nothing and answer no purpose.

At Oakham Methodist Church, worshipping with my friends, I heard of Jesus struggling in the desert with temptation. 

The human condition, our worries, our feeling worthless and forgotten, all can be met by a vulnerable and caring God. Stick with me!

First, in being honest, God comes. It’s okay to say you’ve been let down; it’s okay to say you can only weep today at life’s lot; it’s okay to say you feel worthless; it’s okay to say you are struggling. Imagine Jesus in the desert. Naming the hurt, the memory, the wounded ness is the first step to healing. The most powerful word in the Psalter for me is “but”. I’m facing this but come on God, you are stronger than what I’m going through and there has to be a different way. 

Second, in recognising our place and our need. On Ash Wednesday on Holy Island, I was reminded of the wonderful book “Gilead” by Marilynne Robinson. In the book John Ames tries to save items as a church burned. His father brought him a biscuit dirty with soot. "There's nothing cleaner than ash," his father tells him. Ames thought the ash tasted of affliction, but he learned then not to avoid the soot life brings; that is, he learned that you have to take the bad with the good. You can live with the ash, even if you can't live on it. 

In fact, Ames goes so far as to call the soot-covered bread "communion," a holy meal, a symbol of people's connection with the divine:

“ His hands and his face were black with ash—like one of the old martyrs—and he knelt there in the rain and brought a piece of biscuit out from inside his shirt, and he did break it, that's true, and gave me half and ate the other half himself. And it truly was the bread of affliction, because everyone was poor then.”

Christ comes to us in our deepest humanity. When, on Ash Wednesday we are marked on the forehead with ashes we are not only recognising our place in the created order we are affirming Christ comes to us in our brokenness, in our submission, in our lament, in our weeping. As Louise wrote in her exhibition, God holds our tears in God’s record. 

In Peterborough Cathedral, I found myself drawn to the crucifix above me. While the world turns, the cross stands. There’s so much uncertainty for people at the moment. We need something constant. My doctor says to me I won’t feel better until I get stability. My theology is we place stuff at the cross and let Christ absorb it. 

The temptation story in Matthew’s Gospel has angels attending Jesus in his struggle. Who are our angels? Sometimes who you least expect! Travelling south I had the chance to see the Angel of the North, the awesome work by Anthony Gormley which overlooks Gateshead and Newcastle. 

Don’t we need to know there is something - or someone - watching over us? God’s providence is bigger than our problems. His will will be done. We are little in the larger scheme of things. This picture shows it!

What’s my conclusion about all of this? As ever I need to focus on God. My problems are real and it’s alright and healthy to say that - but they aren’t the end of the story. Remember crucifixion, lament, weeping, worthlessness, forsakenness haven’t a full stop after them. After crucifixion comes unexpected resurrection; after lament comes laughter; after weeping comes happiness; after worthlessness comes meaning; and after forsakenness comes inclusion. Someone told me last week my ministry might need to change but it isn’t over... I’ve felt it is recently :( 

The word that spoke to me in evensong at Peterborough was “beauty” - we sang All my hope on God is founded, which includes the phrase “beauty springeth out of naught” - that’s hope! Angels out of ashes, our Lenten journey, as the fab preacher at Oakham said “there can be no Lenten by pass.” 

Lent #Niteblessing 5

‪May you discover beauty amidst ashes. Whatever has happened, find faith today that comes from God’s word spoken into your soul. He knows you, loves you and gives grace to find beauty amidst ugliness, hope amidst despair and joy amidst sorrow. You have a better story #niteblessing‬

. Now let us see thy beauty, Lord,
 As we have seen before;
 And by thy beauty quicken us
 To love thee and adore.

Tis easy when with simple mind
 Thy loveliness we see,
 To consecrate ourselves afresh
 To duty and to thee.

Our ever-feverish mood is cooled,
 And gone is every load,
 When we can lose the love of self,
 And find the love of God.

Lord, it is coming to ourselves
 When thus we come to thee;
 The bondage of thy loveliness
 Is perfect liberty.

So now we come to ask again
 What thou hast often given,
 The vision of that loveliness
 Which is the life of heaven.