Times of support in wilderness moments - my third Lent blog

Today is the first Sunday of Lent and in our churches we’ve been considering wilderness times in life. I’ve led three congregations today in worship and my brain has thought about three things really… at the end of a busy Sunday I am sharing what wilderness and help through it might mean. I love this picture of an empty Carthorpe chapel. There was no one in it when I arrived tonight! They were all out the back putting cups out for refreshments afterwards. 

First I think I’ve been struck by the fact in Mark’s Gospel Jesus is “driven” by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness. The Greek word used for “driven” is the same word used to describe driving out demons later in the Gospel so it’s a strong word. Almost that we are compelled in life to have times when we are made to consider who we are and what life is all about. Today has been an important day in the church at Allhallowgate. We sat on chairs for the first time in the church for worship. The place was rocking, it looked fresh and the atmosphere lighter. I did suggest maybe we’ve had for the last three and a half years a time of discernment and working out what we are meant to be. And that maybe now it’s exciting and hopeful as we emerge with some growth points - not just chairs - but even they are a sign of revolution. Jesus began his ministry but only when he’d discerned his calling. Maybe churches which are stuck need to do the same. Work out what you are for. God is doing a new thing. Are we joining in?? 

Perhaps we are. I’ve just received this:

“I wanted to go out of the church shouting wow come and see the smiling congregation. What a special feel today. Not often the first Sunday in lent has been so special. Thank you.”

Normally the minister who dares to take out pews gets snotty letters - not here he hasn’t. There’s a right time. I got quite emotional this morning. It felt like we are together on the edge of something happening.

Second, I think in the wilderness story we need to see that Jesus gets that life is hard and so understands when we are struggling. As I drove up the A1M to Bedale for 9am communion this morning - 13 hours ago - I had the Radio 4 service on which came from Glasgow University. The chapel choir sang these words: 

Don’t tell me of a faith that fears
To face the world around
Don’t dull my mind with easy thoughts
of grace without a ground.

I need to know that God is real!
I need to know that Christ can feel
the need to touch and love and heal
the world, including me!

Don’t speak of piety and prayers
Absolved from human need;
Don’t talk of spirit without flesh
Like harvest without seed.

Don’t sate my soul with common sense
Distilled from ages past
Inept for those who fear the world’s
about to breathe its last.

Don’t set the cross before my eyes
unless you tell the truth
of how the Lord, who finds the lost,
was often found uncouth.

So let the Gospel come alive
in actions plain to see
in imitation of the one
whose love extends to me.

I need to know that God is real!
I need to know that Christ can feel
the need to touch and love and heal
the world, including me!

That Jesus gets it matters. We don’t need a Jesus who is sugary sweet. We need a Jesus who is vulnerable and scarred and who struggles and hurts but who comes through those times. Lent points us to passion and a cross but then to joy and resurrection life. But we have to suffer in order to find healing and we have to die in order to rise and that is hard. 

Then thirdly, the Markan account of wilderness has Jesus waited on by angels. Who are the people who are angels to us when we are in the wilderness? Or are we abandoned by people? I remember when our manse wasn’t habitable being moved to Hailsham, a town we didn’t know. I was depressed and unwell and eventually when I dragged back into a Methodist Church to sit on the back row the little congregation at Hailsham were angels to me without knowing it. 

This week has seen the sudden passing of the DJ Steve Wright. There’s been an outpouring of grief and sadness. The nation has come together to mourn, to share stories and to listen his favourite music. Sunday Love Songs has been on for 28 years and today Liza Tarbuck, another broadcaster I love whose Saturday night programme gets better as she gets more sozzled on a second bottle of wine, and goes on about the Leisure Peninsula, well she led us in what was a community book of remembrance as people shared stories of him reading out dedications at important life moments. I listened to part of the programme driving back down the A1M and caught up with the rest of it tonight. I am in bits. Liza said this  "So while you're getting a tissue, I think it would be lovely if you lit him a candle. I make no apologies if I get upset over the next two hours and I don't think you should either." It was as though the nation was looking after each other today. There was something deeply spiritual going on. Of God? Well, yes. And it was a masterpiece of broadcasting. 

Wilderness, driven there, knowing our experience and supporting each other when life hurls a rock at us, that’s where Lent begins. And now I’m done in. But I’ve made a start to the journey… and there is hope and a buzz about.