Author: CCW

“Judas, betrayest thou the Son of man with a kiss?”

The kiss of Judas gathers into itself all of the forms of betrayal. Not least is the idea of the betrayal of brotherhood and fellowship, betrayals that are related to our betrayals of ourselves and God and that lead to disorder and disarray. In a way, those aspects of betrayal are captured best in the Old Testament story of Joseph and his brothers and in the New Testament story of the Peter’s betrayal of Christ. Both stories bring out the nature of betrayal and the prospect of forgiveness through contrition and repentance; paradoxically, the very things refused and denied by Judas himself.

Giotto’s poignant portrayal of Judas’ betrayal has Jesus look directly into the face of Judas and speak to him. And yet, the story of Judas is also the denial of redemption, of the possibilities of forgiveness and mercy. That is, it seems to me the horror of the kiss of Judas. It shows us the fullest possible extent of human sinfulness – not only do we deny the truth of God but we persist in our denials to the point of willful destruction. Such is the end of Judas. And it serves as an object lesson precisely about lessons not learned!

The stories of Joseph and his brothers and of Peter’s betrayal concern the matter of recognition. Joseph makes himself known to his brothers and they, in turn, confront themselves and the consequences of their actions. Jesus, “on the night in which he was betrayed,” is hauled before the High Priest and turns and looks at Peter who has just denied him. Powerful moments of recognition and repentance.

But who are we that God should recognize us? How are we known to him and to each other? How shall we divine an understanding of who we essentially are? We are so good at deceiving ourselves and one another. We are so good at betrayal.

But coming to terms with ourselves is not easy. It is often a matter of tears, “a broken and contrite heart, O God, thou shalt not despise.”

(more…)

Print this entry

“Now there was much grass in the place”

John’s account of the feeding of the multitude in the wilderness contains this wonderful little detail. “Now there was much grass in the place.” No. Not that kind of grass! But it is wonderful to think about the approach of spring and to think that somehow under the mountains and mountains of snow that surround us there just might be green grass! How wonderful, too, to think of a picnic in the wilderness!

It is a marvellous story within the sixth chapter of John’s Gospel which is known as the “Bread of Life” discourse. It is read in the midst of the journey of Lent and signals a moment of refreshment in the course of the disciplines of Lent. Discipline is about learning and so too this story is about teaching. The teaching is the feeding; food for our souls and minds. What is it about? Simply this. God provides for us in the wilderness journeys of our lives. The feeding in the wilderness looks back to the wilderness journeys of the Exodus when Israel learns how to live from every word that proceeds from the mouth of God and is provided with “manna from heaven” and “water from a stricken rock,” all their kvetching and complaining notwithstanding. The story also looks ahead to the Passion of Christ, to the Passover meal with his disciples on the night in which he is betrayed. There he identifies himself with the bread and the wine of the Passover meal on the night when Israel departs from Egypt.

The story is profoundly symbolic and sacramental. In the Christian Mass, Communion or Eucharist, to use three common terms for the central event of Christian worship, bread and wine, themselves the results of human interaction with the things of nature – wheat and grapes – become by the Word of God the means of our union with God, the body and blood of Christ. In terms of the Christian understanding of Lent, we journey to God and with God. It is really about learning to live in communion with God and with one another.

(more…)

Print this entry

“But if I cast out devils by the finger of God, no doubt the
kingdom of God hath come upon you”

The tune for our first hymn this morning is called “Batty” and the postlude which concludes our service is a musical meditation based on “Batty.” Today’s Gospel, too, may drive us all a bit batty!

Darkness and desolation, devils and wicked spirits, divisions and temptations. What dark and disturbing images are set before us in the readings for The Third Sunday in Lent! And yet the finger grace of God is more than enough, it seems, for the kingdom of God to be revealed and known.

The Lenten Sundays seek to draw us into the Passion of Christ and its meaning for Christian witness and life. The focus is on what Christ suffers for us and why. This Sunday marks the deepest and darkest part of that journey and corresponds, I suggest, to the shadows and darkness of Tenebrae, the service on the Wednesday of Holy Week that anticipates the Triduum Sacrum, the three great holy days of Maundy Thursday, Good Friday, and Holy Saturday; in other words, the days when the Passion of Christ is present to us in its most concentrated form. Somehow the darkness is light.

“The whole life of Christ was but a continuall passion,” the preacher John Donne reminds us, pointing out how the shadows of the Cross are ever with us. But how to think the meaning of the Passion? Holy Week will immerse us in its horror and its glory. It will seek to move our hearts and our minds with the spectacle of human betrayal and divine love and will do so in very profound ways, the way of the Cross and our part in it. To be sure. But to get to Holy Week and to make greater sense of it we need the Sundays of Lent and, perhaps, this Sunday more than most. Why?

Because we do not take evil seriously enough. We are unwilling to contemplate the darkness and the evil of our own hearts. We refuse to see that heaven and hell are all around us and within us on a daily basis. It is there in how we think, in how we speak and in how we act. And if ever the western world is going to make sense of terrorism and, particularly, the spectacle of jihadis, it will have to begin with itself and with this picture of ourselves that Jesus presents in this Gospel, the Gospel of darkness and desolation without which there can be no light and salvation.

(more…)

Print this entry