A frail flickering light and a hope we have yet to fully understand

Tags

Alleluia, Bishop, Candle, cathedral, Christ is risen, Deacon, Easter, Flame, Gloria, hope, Organ, Paschal Candle, Resurrection, Wind in the Willows

In a darkened cathedral and before the flames of a warming fire, the Bishop holds a taper trying to light the candle held by the Deacon. All eyes gaze on this seemingly simple task and, time seems to stand still, as the candles seems to refuse to light.  There is a shared sense of relief as the Deacon turns to the people and all can see the candle is lit.

But the flame is small and gutters in the draught.  All eyes are now fixed on this tiny, frail flickering flame.  Unprotected it is held aloft and carried forward, the flame rising and falling back, bending to each new movement of the air.  As it is carried the length of the cathedral it seems smaller and frailer; its flame making little impression on the surrounding darkness and yet unmissable and still drawing the eye.  It continues to dance and tease, refusing to confidently burn and yet never extinguishing itself.

Amidst the thunder of the organ, the soaring notes of the Gloria and the shouts of the people, it is this uncertain flame that stands above all else for the hope of Easter.  Despite the confident and enthusiastic liturgical greetings, “Alleluia! Christ is risen.  He is rise indeed.  Alleluia!”, this faltering flame better captures the day more than all the processions and clouds of incense.

To dare to proclaim that he who was clearly killed on the tree and his lifeless body buried and seal in a stone cold tomb is alive is either the most foolish act of wish-fulfilling folly or a truth so profound, so mysterious, that not all the words I have, nor all the days I will live, will help me fully comprehend all that this means.  If true, this must change my everything; nothing can ever be the same again and yet how can my life begin to reflect and be shaped by this most unexpected of twists in salvation history?

The Alleluias fall silent on my lips and my eyes return to gaze of this frail, flickering light and as it struggles against the darkness.  So too my mind struggles to let its rays penetrate my inner darkness.  As the liturgy rises to its crescendo, my soul becomes still.  No words, no music, can capture the true mystery of this day – only this small dancing, guttering light can point the way.

Bells ring out, congregations are in full voice and preachers proclaim strong messages of hope but still I gaze at this small insignificant yet profound flame.  And my mind is drawn out of the cathedral to two small animals on their riverbank:

‘Rat!’ he found breath to whisper, shaking. ‘Are you afraid?’ ‘Afraid?’ murmured the Rat, his eyes shining with unutterable love.  ‘Afraid! Of Him? O, never, never!  And yet – and yet – O, Mole, I am afraid!’  Then the two animals, crouching to the earth, bowed their heads and did worship.

O my people what have I done to you? How have I offended you? The Good Friday Reproaches speak afresh this week.

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Belgium, Brussels, Golgotha, Good Friday Reproaches, Intelligence, Military, Offence, our Common Humanity, Past hurt, Security, Suicide Bomber

A man wakes up and knows today is the day he will kill himself – and take with him as many as he can when he goes.  Perhaps he washes, perhaps he has breakfast, perhaps he says his prayers.  Then carefully he picks up his luggage for this final journey.  He walks to the station where he boards the underground train.  He looks at the sea of faces around him – and presses the trigger.  He believes he will wake in heaven to a martyrs crown and God’s blessing.

As pictures of the resulting carnage are beamed around the world, the words of the Good Friday reproaches re-echo around the mind:

O my people what have I done to you?  How have I offended you?

Intelligence officers will redouble their efforts.  Security experts will review their plans.  Military strategists will re-consider their options.  They will each do their very best and will have some, even much, success but they know one day someone will slip beneath their radar again.

O my people what have I done to you?  How have I offended you?

What makes a person believe that it is necessary and right to act in such a way?  What hurt, real or perceived, is so great that it justifies bring such terrible pain to your fellow human beings?  Some will reach for words like “evil”, “twisted”, “perverted” but such words are designed to write off, to dismiss the perpetrator as a nothing, a nobody but that resolves nothing for others still come forward to take their place.

O my people what have I done to you?  How have I offended you?

Some how, some where, humanity has deeply and profoundly fallen out with itself and past mistakes and misunderstandings reap a terrible harvest.  We have forgotten our common bonds, we have lost the ability to reach out to one another, we see each other with distorted eyes. Lasting offence has been caused and a gulf has opened up that has made us alien one to another.

O my people what have I done to you?  How have I offended you?

Until we can discover a new way to reach out to one another, until we can rediscover the true path of peace and justice, until we are truly able to truly listen to one another, address the inequalities and heal the hurt, all the intelligence, security and military powers will never be fully able to protect us.

Until then a lonely man still walks the path to Golgotha.  The crowds jeer and spit their derision; foreign soldiers seize him strip him and nail his hands and feet to the wood.  Then they hoist up on high – to them a nonsense pointing nowhere but with his every agonised breath he quietly proclaims that love not judgement is the answer.

O my people what have I done to you?  How have I offended you?  Answer me!

Listening with a broken heart, or why what happens to Helen Archer does not matter.

Tags

broken-hearted, Counselling, escape, Gritty Reality, happing endings, Happy Valley, Helen Archer, real world, Refugees, Television and Radio, The Archers, The news

Put simply I am finding it harder to watch television and listen to the radio.

However good the script, however excellent the acting (however appalling the sound quality) I cannot find it in my heart to care about what does or does not happen in Happy Valley.  However well researched the storyline, however well presented, I find that it does not matter to me what happens to Helen in The Archers.  And the same I am starting to find applies to a growing number of programmes.  This is not a comment on the quality of the programmes but rather the state of my heart.

All my emotional energy goes into trying to watch the news. The danger is that the daily diet of human suffering that occupies so much of the news will just bounce off me; it is surely all too much to bear.

But I will not remain unmoved.  I have to let the unfolding stories of human suffering in – I owe them that much – and doing so breaks my heart.  The pain of hearing these tales is over whelming (yet alone dear God what it is like for those living these all too real stories) but I have to remain open, and feeling, to all that is happening in the world around me.

My fear is that because I cannot cope with the pain in the real world, I will start to focus on the pain in a make believe world and give my energies instead to being caught up in the woes of Helen Archer, not least because it is The Archers, it will all work out for the best.  I will be given the happy ending I fear I will not find in the real world.

But my broken heart will not allow such escape.  Instead I find a growing disinterest in the latest supposed gritty reality drama. Whilst refugees struggle to find a welcome, famine and flood continue reap havoc and those around me struggle with cancer, depression and relationship break-up, my broken heart has enough to cope with.

I hope The Archers storyline may help some one struggling with domestic abuse, but forgive me if I do not worry what will happen to Helen.  Instead I will return to the counselling room and try to help another couple heal their all too real broken relationship.