Will joy come in the morning?
I have to admit that I approached Holy Week and Easter with dread this year. Lent wasn’t too bad, as the wilderness seemed a fitting metaphor to describe the still, quiet and isolated time I’ve been experiencing in the aftermath of surgery and the beginning of chemotherapy. It’s been a season of prayer, reflection and learning for me. As a natural extrovert, being without the usual contact with congregations, colleagues and friends hasn’t been easy. The image of wilderness and exile offered a suitable and holy way to frame my feelings, and I’ve been learning, or at least trying to learn, more about myself and my relationship with God.
It's hard to admit that I’ve sometimes allowed myself to base my happiness and sense of self-worth on what other people think of me. We all do it and I’ve tried over the years to resist, with some success. It’s interesting though, that just as I think that I’ve mastered one of the undesirable aspects of myself, refocused on God and repented, along comes another testing situation and I’m starting again. We are all broken vessels and need the gold of God’s fire to rebuild us. It’s a lifelong project, especially as my vessel keeps being rebroken!
The wilderness experience teaches me to lean on God and his mercy more and more, making sure that I won’t forget my need of him when times are good and life is easier. It’s a constant refocusing and realigning to his way, his teaching and his love. Like a compass that can’t find north, I am turned and turned again, in the hope that one day I will come round right. I try to listen, like those who listened to the voice of the Baptist, and keep to the straight and narrow path. Yet I wander, like Little Red Riding Hood, attracted by the bright colours of the world which fade so quickly, and find myself lost and needing to regain the true path.
Here is the Good News. It doesn’t matter how many times I wander, how often I fail or get lost, Jesus will always lead me back, encouraging and supporting, gently pointing out where I went wrong and bringing me back to the Father who forgives me.
Holy Week, which for so many years has been busy, full of services and people, devotions and opportunities, was hard this year. My chemotherapy has left me exhausted and lethargic and even the thought of social interaction made me feel tired.
I prayed through Maundy Thursday’s Chrism service, uniting with my fellow ministers from a distance. Later a friend visited and together we took communion in my home. I blessed oil and I anointed them, and they anointed me, praying for healing and for a blessing on my ministry. I was reminded that Jesus said, ‘When two or three are gathered together in my name, I am with them’, and he was. On Good Friday I prayed and reflected on Jesus Passion using the Stations of the Cross, presented in a video of living tableaux created by Wintershall Theatre Company and @christianart. On Holy Saturday, always a sombre and quiet day for me, my daughter suggested we have a service together and so, after the sun had set, we kept The Vigil and read from the Bible about the salvation history of God’s people, we sang the Exultet and prayed together. Tears flowed as we said the Lord’s Prayer together and I went to bed wondering about how Easter Sunday would be. No Dawn Service and special breakfast, no blessing the Paschal Candle, no Easter anthems or rousing choruses, no throng of people happily proclaiming ‘Allelulia! He is risen!’
Easter Day: I woke up this morning and my first thought was of light and life. I found myself reaching for the iPad and cranking up ‘Thine be the Glory’ and ‘Jesus Christ is risen today’ and singing along through my tears. My lovely husband presented me with a small chocolate egg, ‘to represent the open tomb’, he said as I cracked it open. I can’t adequately describe it, but God helped me to focus on what I had, rather than what I didn’t have; life, love, peace, joy, hope! He showed me where I was, and not where I wasn’t; with him, with family, at home, in the sunshine. I’ve watched the two programmes in which Gareth Malone prepared eight novice singers to join the Welsh National Chorus at Llandaff Cathedral to sing Handel’s Messiah. I was moved to tears again hearing the stories behind their desire to sing and seeing them overcome nerves, anxiety, grief and illness to achieve something beautiful. Later I'll settle down to watch the full performance and it will be the end to a beautiful day. Yes - Joy did come in the morning! I’m praying that it came for you too and if it didn’t, if life is a struggle, please don’t give up. Believe, ask and pray – God is faithful and he loves you.
A happy and blessed Easter to you all.
God bless
The Venerable Jane Proudfoot, Archdeacon of Macclesfield