6th April - Easter 3
Barkway: Acts 2.14a, 36-41; Psalm 116.1-3,10-17; Luke 24.13-35
Barley: Acts 2.14a, 36-41; Psalm 116.1-3,10-17; 1 Peter 1.17-23; Luke 24.13-35

13th April - Easter 4
Reed: Acts 2.42-47; Psalm 23; 1 Peter 2.19-25; John 10.1-10

20th April - Easter 5
Barkway: Acts 7.55-60; Psalm 31.1-5,15-16; 1 Peter 2.2-10; John 14.1-14
Barkway: Discover Sunday tba
Barley: Acts 7.55-60; Psalm 31.1-5,15-16; 1 Peter 2.2-10; John 14.1-14

27th April - Easter 6
Barkway: Acts 17.22-31; John 14.15-21
Barley: Acts 17.22-31; Psalm 66.7-18; 1 Peter 3.13-22; John 14.15-21
Reed: tba

1st May - Ascension Day
Reed: Acts 1.1-11; Psalm 93; Ephesians 1.15-23; Luke 24.44-53

4th May - Easter 7
Barkway: Acts 1.6-14; Psalm 68.1-10,33-36; John 17.1-11
Barley: Acts 1.6-14; Psalm 68.1-10,33-36; 1 Peter 4.12-14; 5.6-11; John 17.1-11
Reed: Acts 1.6-14; Psalm 68.1-10,33-36; 1 Peter 4.12-14; 5.6-11; John 17.1-11

11th May - Pentecost
Barkway: tba
Reed: Acts 2.1-21; Psalm 104.25-35,37; 1 Corinthians 12.3b-13; John 20.19-23

18th May - Trinity Sunday
Barkway: Isaiah 40.12-17,27-31; Psalm 8; 2 Corinthians 13.11-13; Matthew 28.16-20
Barley: tba
Reed: Isaiah 40.12-17,27-31; Psalm 8; 2 Corinthians 13.11-13; Matthew 28.16-20

25th May - 1 after Trinity
Barkway: Leviticus 19.1-2,9-18; Psalm 119.33-40; 1 Corinthians 3.1-11,16-23; Matthew 5.38-48
Barley: Leviticus 19.1-2,9-18; Psalm 119.33-40; 1 Corinthians 3.1-11,16-23; Matthew 5.38-48

1st June - 2 after Trinity
Barkway: Deut. 11.18-21,26-28; Psalm 31.1-5,19-24; Matthew 7.21-29
Barley: Deut. 11.18-21,26-28; Psalm 31.1-5,19-24; Romans 1.16-17;3.22b-28; Matthew 7.21-29
Reed: Deut. 11.18-21,26-28; Psalm 31.1-5,19-24; Romans 1.16-17;3.22b-28; Matthew 7.21-29

8th June - 3 after Trinity
Barkway: Hosea 5.15-6.6; Psalm 50.7-15; Romans 4.13-25; Matthew 9.9-13,18-26

15th June - 4 after Trinity
Reed: Exodus 19.2-8a; Psalm 100; Romans 5.1-8; Matthew 9.35-10.8

22nd June - 5 after Trinity
Barkway: Jeremiah 20.7-13; Psalm 69.8-20; Romans 6.1b-11; Matthew 10.24-39
Barley: Jeremiah 20.7-13; Psalm 69.8-20; Romans 6.1b-11; Matthew 10.24-39
Reed: tba

29th June - 6 after Trinity
Buckland: Acts 12.1-11; Psalm 125; 2 Timothy 4.6-8,17-18; Matthew 16.13-19

Grief and pain

The month of April this year falls entirely within the Church’s Easter season. This extended period helps to remind us that Christ’s resurrection is not just an event that happens one day, but that his life and power remain with us.

So it perhaps seems strange that the focus of my thoughts this month is death. It is little surprising that I have thought much about death in recently. Between January and Easter Day, I conducted more funerals in the benefice than in the whole of 2007; some of my closest friends have also been coping with bereavements following deaths of those whom they love. In the midst of life, there is always death and grief.

Some of the funerals I have taken have been almost straightforward, in the sense that the person who has died was seemingly at a natural end to their life - they had lived many years and died peacefully, ready for whatever comes next. There is sadness, but grieving family and friends are able to reconcile themselves to living with that.

But others have followed tragic events or led to young children losing parents. Some have been so sudden that relatives and friends have struggled to understand why or have faced relatives and friends with the suffering and pain of someone they love - something that is hard for anyone to experience.

Because Christians believe that death is not the end, there can sometimes be a tendency within the Church not to face grief properly. Yet, we only grieve because we have loved. Love is a great and wonderful thing, but it makes us vulnerable too. When we love, we open ourselves up to pain as well as joy, and the pain of death is often a very deep one arising from the separation from the one we love. That pain can be overwhelming.

Death raises all sorts of questions. It leads to agonising cries of Why? Sometimes it sparks anger and rage against God or the one who has died, feelings of abandonment and desolation, deep sadness and confusion. This is all natural, but often people are ashamed of sharing these thoughts with God in prayer. God can take it! God is bigger than our grief and more loving than we can imagine. And, though we may not be aware of it, God will be there alongside us, sharing in our suffering and pain. God knows what it is like to lose a beloved child. Let God share your pain, and hear your anger.

With best wishes, Sarah

Acts 2.14a, 22-32; 1 Peter 1.3-9; John 20.19-31

Why do we believe in some things and not in others?

If I were to tell you that as I was writing this sermon yesterday morning I looked out of the window and saw a flying saucer on my lawn, out of which three funny little green men appeared, who frightened the guinea pigs, and caused the dog to bark and the cats to flee, you’d probably not believe me.

But, if I tell you that yesterday afternoon I went to the cinema and saw a really great film, you might be more likely to believe me.

And if I then ask you to believe that I am currently in Buckland church, leading a service and at this moment preaching a sermon, you would, I hope, definitely believe me.

The first of those three scenes - the one that you would be least likely to believe - sounds a little far-fetched. Seeing little green men walking on the lawns of Barkway is something that really does not happen in the normal sphere of life. I can pretty much guarantee that it’s not an experience anyone in church this morning has ever had.

As for my trip to the cinema, I wonder how many of you believed in that. In fact, it was not true. I spent yesterday preparing for today’s service and then visiting people, some following funerals for a member of their family, and some more general parish visiting.

But I guess that more of you were ready to believe that I had been to the cinema than that I had seen aliens. Going to the cinema is something that people do as part of life in the 21st century.

It’s an experience to which most people can relate, and it certainly doesn’t sound far-fetched to say that I’d spent yesterday doing that.

Perhaps, if you’d stopped to think a bit more, you might have remembered that Saturdays are a working day for me, so perhaps a little unlikely that I’d taken an afternoon off to see a film, but not beyond the bounds of possibility, especially as one of the busiest weeks in my working calendar has just ended.

As for me leading a service this morning in Buckland church, I’m sure that is something in which you all believe. Why do you believe that? Because you are experiencing that for yourself. You are sitting here in Buckland church, listening - or not - to my sermon. You will have already heard me welcome you, give the notices, announce the hymns, and so on.

Thomas just could not believe initially in the risen Christ. We’ve no idea where he was that Sunday evening, but we do know that he wasn’t with the others when Jesus appeared to them. But it’s not necessarily surprising that he struggled to believe them. Dead people just don’t come back to life. He’d clearly forgotten about Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised earlier in his ministry.

I can’t believe that, Thomas was thinking. Dead people do not come back to life again. That is not part of the experience of normal life. I need proof.

To ask for proof is a natural thing to do when we are faced with something that we do not believe. Proof, after all, is what will change our mind. If I had managed to bring with me to church this morning one of the little green men whom I claim to have seen, more of you may have believed the story.

So, Thomas’s declaration that he would only believe if he could see and touch the risen Christ for himself, is understandable. It shows a lack of trust on his part in those who told him they had seen the Lord, but they were telling him something extraordinary. The stranger something appears to be, perhaps the more proof we feel we need.

When Thomas had the proof he needed, he was quick to acknowledge Christ as God.

An orphaned boy was living with his grandmother when their house caught fire. The grandmother, trying to get upstairs to rescue the boy, died in the flames.

The boy’s cries for help were finally answered by a man who climbed an iron drain pipe and came back down with the boy hanging tightly to his neck.

Several weeks later, a public hearing was held to determine who would receive custody of the child. A farmer, a teacher, and the town’s wealthiest citizen all gave the reasons why they felt they should be chosen to give the boy a home. But as they talked, the lad’s eyes remained focused on the floor.

Then a stranger walked to the front and slowly took his hand from his pockets, revealing severe scars on them. As the crowd gasped, the boy cried out in recognition. This was the man who had saved his life.

His hands had been burned when he climbed the hot pipe. With a leap the boy threw his arms around the man’s neck and held on for dear life.

The other men silently walked away, leaving the boy and his rescuer alone.

Those scarred hands had settled the issue.

It was a similar experience for Thomas. True recognition came when he saw the scarred hands and side of the one who loved him more than anyone else.

The scarred hands and side of love.

The resurrection did not remove the wounds of Jesus, it only transformed them.

And that’s great news for us. It means that the resurrected Jesus is still aware of human frailty and sin. Its marks remain on his body.

Those marks draw us. They remain proof of what Jesus went through for us, proof of his love.

A composer writes music, but it only takes on true meaning when players play it. A clock maker designs and builds a beautiful clock, but it only tells the time when the owner winds it up and sets it correctly - or in this day and age - changes the battery.
God has already done the hard work of the Gospel in raising Jesus to life, but in this world it lives through us. We have to live out that resurrection life, and we’re given the Holy Spirit in order to do that.

It was the coming of the Holy Spirit that changed the disciples from a frightened bunch of people into a powerhouse of orators, witnesses, proclaimers of the resurrection - as we heard in the extract from Peter’s speech in our first reading today.

I’m not convinced that Jesus’s words to Thomas “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” are a rebuke as many see them. Rather, I think they are encouragement to those of us who are not able to see Jesus with our eyes. 

John tells us that that’s why he’s written his Gospel, so that we may believe. His story started with that amazing prologue “In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God.”

Now, here at the end of his Gospel we’ve come full circle - Thomas is explicitly naming Jesus as God.

The wounds in his side show that it is the same Jesus, the one who was crucified who has been raised, not some new model or replacement without defects. It’s the Jesus who has suffered who is now alive that Thomas recognises as God.

Because the risen Jesus is also the wounded Jesus, we can be sure that when we face troubles and grief, he will walk through them with us as he walked through his own suffering. He will not leave us to battle alone.

Because of his wounds, we can receive healing and forgiveness.

Because of the resurrection we can know that this world with its troubles is not the end.

God’s life is open to all of us. We don’t have to be free of hurt or sin or perfect in all our ways for that resurrection life to be with us. Thomas believed once he had experienced the risen Christ for himself. Because of the Holy Spirit, that is something that we too can do. We can’t see Jesus in person, but we can experience his risen life.

Jesus didn’t condemn Thomas for his lack of faith; he gave him the opportunity to find the proof he needed. It’s an encouraging story for us too. Thomas asked for the proof - Jesus offered it to him. If we ask for the life of the Holy Spirit to be with us, Jesus will grant that gift.

The resurrection means that the living presence of the risen Jesus in our lives each day is something we can experience. We saw in our first reading how it inspired Peter in his witness. It can inspire us too, if we allow ourselves to be open to its work.

The life of the Spirit in the world is, if we need it, the proof for us of the risen Christ. “Blessed are those who have not seen yet have come to believe. Our blessing includes the gift of the Holy Spirit, the gift of the risen Christ dwelling within us and around us.

Christ is risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.

FATHER, FORGIVE
Luke 23.32-43

I’m sure most of you will know that in the early 20th century the people of Armenia suffered greatly at the hands of the Turks. Estimates of how many Armenians were killed range from one to two million, but no one now denies that this was genocide, though it took many years for it to be recognised as so officially.

A story from the time tells of a Turkish officer who raided and looted an Armenian home. He killed the parents, and gave the daughters to his troops - it takes little imagination to know what happened to them. The eldest daughter he kept for his own pleasure.

Eventually she managed to escape, and trained to become a nurse. Sometime later she found herself working in a ward for Turkish officers. One night, by the light of a lantern, she saw the face of that Turkish officer who had treated her family so badly. He was terribly sick. Without exceptional nursing he would soon die.

That nurse was in a very difficult place. In such a situation, the desire for revenge would have been understandable. But she worked hard to restore him to health, and as a result of her ministrations, he began to recover eventually.

One day the doctor and nurse stood by the officer’s bed. The doctor remarked that without the nurse’s devotion the man would be dead.

The officer looked at the nurse and said, “We have met before, haven’t we?”

“Yes,” she said. “We have met before.”
There was silence. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you let me die?”

She replied, “I am a follower of him who said, ‘Love your enemies’.”

Jesus was a man who lived not only by his words, but also by his actions, and we are called to follow that example. Forgiveness is a living-out of love.

We see him now, hanging on the cross, in total agony, surrounded by his enemies, by those who want him dead. Crucifixion is a brutal and undignified method of execution.

The soldiers were carrying out just another day’s work; there had been other crucifixions in the past; there would be more in the future. They had no idea of what they were really doing, killing the Son of God. No doubt to them, Jesus was a trouble-maker and what they were doing would help to keep the peace - certainly that’s what their Roman master believed.

An ordinary day. But the ordinary becomes exceptional. Jesus, in the midst of the brutality and lack of dignity, responds with grace and goodness. “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

These soldiers did not know their guilt. And, we too are not always aware of the sins that we commit. Sometimes we are all too aware of them. But Christ’s message of forgiveness crosses the centuries and is for us too. Christ is our King; Christ is also the example and pattern for our lives.

Forgiveness is not easy; receiving forgiveness is not easy; forgiving ourselves is not easy. But Christ’s message from the cross shows that he desires us to be liberated from our guilt. Guilt is a destructive emotion. It eats away at us and corrodes us. It grips us and torments us. Guilt can be a force for good, since it is what enables us to accept that we have sinned. It helps us to know, unlike the soldiers, that we are doing wrong.

But guilt that becomes too dominant denies what Christ has done for us. Christ’s suffering was to enable us to be freed from the effects of sin. Christ’s suffering brings forgiveness. When we are unable to receive forgiveness, from God, from others, from ourselves, we are rendering the sacrifice of the cross powerless.

It is not easy. It requires us to accept that we have failed and then to let go of that failure and the harm that it has done. We may need to make amends, to put our forgiveness into practice, to make efforts to restore broken relationships.

Jesus’s was innocent of his crimes; the criminal hanging with him recognised his guilt. Jesus’s response - today you will be with me in Paradise - should give us hope. Jesus’s forgiveness knows no bounds; it is there for us to receive.

As we watch him hanging on the cross, let us open our hearts to receive his forgiveness, and ask him for his love to flood us so that we might be helped towards forgiving those who have done us wrong and caused us pain.
 

BEHOLD YOUR SON
John 19.19-27

I wonder, if you could look forward to your dying moments and plan your final words, what they would be.

Of course, that’s a pretty impossible task, for none of us knows the circumstances in which the ending of our lives will come. We don’t know whether the end will be sudden or drawn out; we don’t know whether we will be prepared or not; we don’t know whether we will feel at ease with the thought our death; we don’t know whether we will be in pain or at peace; we don’t know whether we will be with those whom we love or whether there will be no one at all with us to hear those final words.

You will probably have worked out by now, if you have looked through the order of today’s service, that I have chosen to focus this year on Jesus’s final words.

There are seven sayings in the Gospels uttered by Jesus while he was hanging on the cross. The headings of the sections in this service derive from those sayings - the two not explicitly mentioned will pop up in my talks - one has already done so - so we will in some way reflect on all seven of Jesus’s last words.

Much of what happens while Jesus is on the cross is public, but this scene is a private moment, between Jesus, his mother, and the Beloved Disciple. It’s a moment in which Jesus’s compassion and care are seen, in contrast to the taunting and mocking crowds around him.

Jesus looks down from his lofty position and sees his mother and his friend and understands their pain. Death is always hard, but facing the death of one’s child must be one of the most profound sorrows that human beings ever face.

In the midst of the brutality of the situation, Mary’s presence and Jesus’s words add some humanity. In his dying moments, as he watches his mother’s pain, Jesus can do nothing more than to show his love for her. He cannot come down from the cross and take her home. He cannot reach out and put his arms around her in a deep embrace. All he can do as he hangs there is tell her that he loves her.

And he does this by creating a new family. In the moment of separation, Jesus creates community. Mary and the Beloved Disciple are the beginnings of the new Christian family. In effect, what he is saying to them, is “I love you, Mother”; “I love you, friend”; “Love one another.”

In our fractured and fragmented society, where communities are struggling to retain a sense of neighbourliness and friendship, where people live in suspicion of their next door neighbours, the church and its people can make such a difference by continuing to emulate the example of Jesus.

In this country, we have to accept that the reality of church life at present is that numbers are declining, commitment is diminishing and faith in God for most people is of little or no importance.

But, I wonder, how much we help ourselves. What an impact it would make if you said and acted as Jesus has done, if we said to those we meet - I love you. Now, clearly we’d have to be very careful about how we did this - in our sex-mad age, the word love sometimes loses its true meaning. But many, many people never hear the words of love. Many, many people never experience the actions of love. And, it doesn’t take much.
Jesus’s love for the world was the ultimate sacrifice. Sometimes that is what is asked of us, but mostly all we need to do is utter that loving word of care, or notice when someone is struggling with life - I’m always struck by the story of the stranger who uttered in the ear of the dying Stephen Lawrence - You are loved. You are loved.

That is what Jesus is doing from the cross. That is the message we are called to give to the world. And, even when we struggle to love people, we can still offer them the words of God’s love, of Christ’s love on the cross.
 
WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?
Psalm 22.1-8, 14-15; Matthew 27.45-47

Forsakenness, abandonment - it’s something that many people experience for a variety of reasons.

Perhaps they are grieving the death of someone they love. A very common part of the grieving process is a sense of abandonment by the one who has died. Sometimes this leads to anger at the deceased for leaving the living person alone.

Perhaps the sense of abandonment comes for a child whose parent has, for whatever reason, deserted them, whether physically or emotionally.

Perhaps it comes from the desertion by one lover of another.

The sense of abandonment can lead to very profound feelings - emotions that are almost too painful to put into words. Abandonment can leave one with a sense of deep, deep pain that nothing seems to be able to take away. It can lead to a sense of isolation, a deep hole within oneself that nothing can fill. The loss affects the whole of one’s being, it can be overwhelming. It can manifest itself in physical pain as one longs for the friend who has gone. It can bring a person to a point where utter desolation is all they feel, where life has lost its meaning, and their overriding wish is obliteration, for it is existence itself which causes the pain to go on.

The deep hurt experienced by those who are abandoned can be healed, but more often than not, it isn’t. Certainly it takes time - months and years - to get over an abandonment, and many people are left with deep wounds and scars that nothing can alleviate.

The more intimate the relationship between the abandoner and the abandoned, the deeper the pain.

Jesus has already faced a series of abandonments. One of his closest friends has betrayed him. Another has denied that he even knew Jesus. The crowds who hailed him as their king on Palm Sunday have since cried out for his death. As he hangs on the cross, his friends have fled, leaving only a very faithful few.

But that’s not the end of the forsakenness. Jesus utters a cry of such anguish that it pierces the heart - “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

The relationship between Jesus and God was the most intimate relationship ever experienced. The sense of dereliction apparent in that cry from the cross is so great because of the closeness of the relationship.
In using the words of Psalm 22, he also brings to mind the silence of God, to whom he cries out. Psalm 22 expresses the feelings of one who has been forsaken. It communicates his feelings that he is no longer human, because of the way that others treat him.

And it is no surprise that that is how the Psalmist sees it. For one of the things that marks human beings out is their ability to give and receive love. Love, of course, is a risky business. Those who do not love will never experience the pain of love going wrong. Those who do make themselves vulnerable to the loss of love.

For any of us to be abandoned by those we love brings deep desolation. What it means for Jesus to be forsaken by God, his creator, his source of life, his Father, the object of his total love cannot be expressed in words, so deep is the dereliction. In that cry from the cross is Jesus’s own agony, which has been echoed by others through the years.

What stands out, and those who have experienced abandonment will probably recognise this, is that the one to whom Jesus cries out is the one by whom he has been forsaken. In the midst of his desolation, he calls out to the one by whom he has been deserted, longing to be heard, yearning for a restoration of the relationship.

At the heart of his sense of loss he is still crying out to God, still communicating, which implies that God is there to hear his cry, but at this point chooses not to act.

Since we believe in a loving God, we know that God’s own heart would have been breaking at this point too. For within the very heart of God, a deep separation is going on between Father and Son, a ripping apart of a unity, a whole. For Jesus is not only God’s Son, but God himself. The integrity of the godhead is being challenged through the crucifixion. The pain of separation is felt on both sides.

There is a trite saying - if God feels far away, guess who moved? The Bible teaches us through this story, through the words of Psalm 22, through the story of Job, how little truth there is in that saying. The horror of the crucifixion is that in some profound way God had abandoned Jesus. But Jesus was not a mere puppet in this sacrificial work; it was a path he chose to take.

It was an abandonment that needed to happen if the power of resurrection and life was to be complete. Only a total darkness and death could bring about completely new and restored life. For the whole of creation to be redeemed, the sacrifice needed to be complete.
 

I AM THIRSTY
Psalm 69.13-21; John 19.28-30

Without water, we shall all die. Dehydration is one of the fastest ways towards death.

Physically, Jesus will have been extremely thirsty by the time he utters these words. We are not told, but it is possible that he has had nothing at all to drink since the cup of wine which he took and blessed at the Last Supper. In chronological terms, that was not that long ago, but if we think about what he has undergone since then, the hours seem to grow longer.

There is a profound contradiction in all this. These three words, “I am thirsty,” show the extent of the sacrifice and separation from God that Jesus is undergoing.

John’s Gospel says a lot about water. Right at the start we see John baptising in water. Then at the wedding of Cana, Jesus uses the water, to bring new life to a jaded celebration by turning it into wine. He tells Nicodemus that new birth comes from water and Spirit.

His next encounter, in John chapter 4, is with the woman at the well. He offers her water that will put an end to thirst for ever - Jesus said: “Everyone who drinks of this water will be thirsty again, but those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty. The water that I will give will become in them a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.”

After the feeding of the five thousand in chapter 6, he reiterates what he has previously said; “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

And at the Festival of Tabernacles in chapter 7, he again returns to this theme: “Let anyone who is thirsty come to me, and let the one who believes in me drink.”

Water means life. Life in all its fullness. Water means physical life and spiritual life.

Back in Isaiah chapter 55, the call is issued - Ho, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters. Even further back, during the Exodus, water is brought forth from the rock.

Water is symbolic of the life that God gives.

And now, Jesus is thirsty. That life, physical and spiritual, is slipping away from him. The one who provided for the thirsty is in need of a drink. Yet again, Jesus’s abandonment is brought home. In John 7, Jesus follows his words by explaining that the living water comes in the form of the Holy Spirit.

When Jesus uttered his words of abandonment, we became aware of a split in the very nature of God between Father and Son. His words of thirst reveal now another split, between Son and Spirit. Again we see the godhead ripped apart.

And why? Why does Jesus suffer this agony, this abandonment, this tearing up of the bonds, this rift at the very heart of his being?

He does it for us. It was for us he died on the tree. It was for us he suffered separation from God. It was for us that he thirsted.

It was his love that nailed him to the tree. It is his love that is offered to all of us, a love shown through the greatest gift and grace he offers - forgiveness.

Forgiveness is the heart of the Gospel. Forgiveness is not cheap. Forgiveness is something distinctive about the Christian way that we can offer to the world.

For forgiveness does not condemn, but recognises that we have all failed and fallen short of God’s glory, all of us, that is, except the one whose sacrifice was perfect, the one who deserved no punishment, for he had done no wrong.

Jesus’s thirst highlights the separation from God’s living waters that he experiences on the cross. For John, water is life. In order for us to flow with living water, with the life of God, Jesus undergoes a loss of life.

This was no false separation from God and God’s life, as some would have us believe. That would have been ineffective in conquering sin and death. Only a true separation could bring about our salvation; only a true death could bring about our life.

That is what Jesus is undergoing on the cross, a total separation, a true death.

Our sin no longer condemns us to a future without hope, but because of Jesus’s taking on himself a hope-less situation, our future remains strong. We do not need to take upon us the thirst of Jesus, for the living waters are there for us to tap into, flowing with life and God’s grace.

As Jesus thirsts, may we open ourselves to drinking from the water that enables us never to thirst again.
 

IT IS FINISHED
John 19.30; Luke 23.44-47

Two different endings to this story, depending on which Gospel one reads.

In general, Jesus’s cry from John’s Gospel is considered to be the penultimate thing he said, while the words in Luke are the very end of the story.

Most of us live lives full of unfinished business: the phone call not returned, the letter to which we haven’t responded, the book half read, the diet not kept. Right at this moment I can answer yes to all four  of those charges.

Some of these unfinished things may not seem large in themselves, but in a particular context they might take on serious consequences.

The unfinished diet for someone at risk of heart attack because of their weight is a serious proposition. The telephone call to which we haven’t responded may mean the ending of a relationship. The letter we didn’t reply to might have been the last one we ever received from someone who then died.

Much of our unfinished business affects not only us but others too. The marriage that is wrecked because the row was never mended, the evicted tenant now living on the street because the bills were never paid and help was not sought, the broken promise that smashed someone else’s trust in us and so on.

What unfinished business is lurking in our lives? We may never get a chance to complete it, if we don’t address it today.

So much guilt arises when someone dies and leaves unfinished business behind them - the words of love never spoken, the forgiveness never offered, the wounds not healed. Unfinished business that goes to the grave leaves a lasting impression on those who have been failed. The grave also may prevent us from finishing what we have to do with the one who has died. It is little wonder that Jesus warned people to sort things out with others before they approached the altar with their gift, leaving it there if necessary while they went away to make amends.

Our unfinished business so often leads us into sin - so much of it reveals a lack of love for another who has perhaps hurt us, so much of it depends on sins we have not forgiven, so much of it depends on our pride or sloth - those deadly sins.

Our unfinished business matters because it leaves things in a way that is less than loving to the one with whom the business is to be conducted or sells ourselves short.

By contrast, Jesus was able to go to his death uttering the words: “It is finished.” A cry of triumph and of victory, not of work left undone. Jesus’s work has been completed, accomplished, and is now finished.

To say that something is finished can mean one of two things - it can have a negative meaning - it’s all over, we’ve finished, can imply a relationship that is broken; a life that is over unfulfilled; a dream that has died.

But it can also mean that something has been accomplished - an artist putting the finishing touches to a painting, a poet writing the final word of a masterpiece, a Messiah who has fulfilled the work he was sent to do, to put an end to death by dying for us, to put an end to darkness by the conquering power of light, to put an end to despair by bringing hope, to put an end to hatred by never living in any way but the way of love.

That cry on the cross is a great cry of triumph - a cry of finished business. When Jesus speaks of his future a few days earlier, this is what he says: “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly, I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains a single grain; but if it dies, it bears much fruit.”

The death of the seed is necessary for life to continue. Jesus’s work has been completed, the seed is ready to die, so that greater life might ensue.

God’s work is nearly over. But there is one more sentence to be uttered: “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” In that last utterance, Jesus makes clear that the property of death to induce fear has lost its power.

This is a death undertaken willingly. These are not words of resignation and powerlessness; these are words of power. These are words that express Jesus’s willingness to embrace his death for the sake of others.

These words sum up all his self-offering - in them is an act of will, an act of choice, an act of utter trust in God to make all things well.

Jeremiah 31.1-6; Acts 10.34-43; John 20.1-18

A rather grouchy husband made it into heaven along with his wife.

Strangely, though, he still seemed to be rather grumpy.

“What’s wrong now?” asked his wife. “Can’t you see, we’re in heaven? This is beautiful — the music’s great, the food is out of this world, the mansion has everything and more we’d ever dreamed of, the golf course is the best we’ve ever seen, there’s no fees, no taxes, our health is fantastic, why aren’t you happy? What’s wrong with you?”

The husband replied, “you we hadn’t made me eat that miserable oat bran, we could have been here ten years ago.”

What a sad view of one’s experience of heaven! The husband is so bound up with what he’s previously missed out on that he has lost all sense of celebration and thanksgiving for all the joys in his new existence.

The Christian Church too so often loses sight of the resurrection and the life and joy that it brings. We keep the 40 days of Lent, but it seems that once Easter Day itself is over, the 40 days of Easter pass us by. People go back to work after a long weekend off, the Easter eggs eaten, and life returns to normal.

Life never returned to normal for those first disciples who rushed to the tomb that first Easter Day. Mary Magdalene, according to John, was the first to arrive, early in the morning. She is panicked by the fact that the stone has been removed. We’re not told that she gets as far as looking inside, but she’s obviously made the assumption that the body is not longer there.

So, not sure what to do, she rushes off to find Peter and the other disciple. They dash to the tomb to see what has been going on. The other disciples, who is never named, peers into the tomb, notes that the linen shroud is still there, but then hangs back from going inside.

Peter, though, is never one to hang back. He goes straight inside the tomb, and spots not only the linen wrappings but also the cloth that had been around Jesus’s head. Then the other disciple follows Peter in and believes.

We’re not told exactly what it is that he believes. John wrote his Gospel in order that people might believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing they may have life in his name. And that, for John, is what faith is about.

But what the disciple believes in this story is made somewhat ambiguous by the sentence that follows about them not understanding the scrupture that Jesus must rise from the dead. The two disciples go back home, believing that the body has gone, but as far as we know, not that Jesus is alive again.

But Mary is too upset to go anywhere. She stays where she is weeping. And now she too looks inside - something she hadn’t done earlier. She sees two angels there. They ask her why she is crying. She explains that Jesus has been taken away and she doesn’t know where he is.

And then she turns round and finds a man standing there, who also asks why she is crying. Her mind can only cope with rationality - her conclusion that this is a gardener makes absolute sense in some ways - who else would be in a garden?

And if anyone was going to have moved a body, then the most likely person would have been the gardener.

It takes only one word to transform her perspective from the normal sphere of human thinking to the joyful recognition of the resurrection. “Mary.” There must have been something in the way that he said it. I imagine it was a bit like the way in which a mother, in spite of a clamour of noise from other children, will always know the cry of her own child.

Mary, in spite of the clamour of voices going on in her head, knows immeditely who this gardener is once he has spoken her name.

And now he has returned she tries to cling on to him. She doesn’t want to experience the pain of separation from him again so tries to hold fast to him in the hope that he won’t disappear.

But he won’t let her, and gives her a message to take to the disciples and bids them hurry to pass it on. “I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.”

The resurrection is important, it is a sign of God’s decisive action in our world, it makes a difference. However, we are not to spend ages staring at the marvel of the empty tomb, but to carry the message of the resurrection to others.

Mary does as she is asked, although the initial message she gives to the disciples is somewhat different from the one Jesus asked her to convey - I have seen the Lord, she tells them - though she then goes on to tell them what Jesus has said.

We come to this scripture so many years after the events it describes. But it has not lost any of its power. It has transformed lives, brought hope, joy and salvation to millions of people down through the ages from the time of those first disciples.

Our reading from Acts is a speech given by Peter in Cornelius’s house. We become aware of how he has been transformed by the power of the resurrection. Just a few days ago, we heard how he denied Jesus three times in the courts of the High Priest. All through the Gospels he has seemed an unlikely figure for Jesus to have chosen as the foundation stone for his church.

He’s the one who so often get sit wrong, or speaks out before he has really though about what he is saying.

Peter should give all of us hope, since God takes who he is and uses that - he doesn’t ask Peter to become something or someone else before he uses him to deliver the message of the resurrection. He uses Peter as he is. And God wants to use us as we are.

Of course, once God starts using us, transformation follows. After the resurrection Peter is radically transformed: he preaches Christ crucified and raised from the dead, so that those who hear him believe and receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. He is no longer the simple fisherman with a gift for saying the wrong thing, he has insight and wisdom and he teaches with courage and conviction. But, at the same time, he is still Peter.

The message of Easter is in part about God’s mighty power: God’s power to raise Jesus from the dead, God’s power to save us from our sins and to bring us to eternal life. But it’s not just that.

It is also a message about a message: a story about the importance of passing on the story, of not delaying, of sharing the good news.

Jesus is risen, we do not need to be afraid. Everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name. So we are freed from our fears and our sins, freed to carry the message of the resurrection through our words, free to carry God’s love to others through our actions. God has shown that His truth and love are more powerful than sin and death, so we can have new confidence to live our lives so that they bear witness to that truth and they show that love in action.

On his return from 16 years spent in Africa, David Livingstone told the students of Glasgow University “What sustained me amidst the toil and hardship, and loneliness of my exiled life? It was the promise, ‘Lo, I am with you always, even unto the end.’”

That is the message that we too have to share with the world. Because of the resurrection, Christ is no longer confined to one place or a particular moment in time. Mary could not cling on to him and make him stay where she was, for he could not be confined. He is with us, right now, to the end.

He is with us in times of sorrow and in times of joy. He is with us when life is painful and when we are celebrating. If we believe in the power of the resurrection, our lives can never just go back to being normal, for once we have met the risen Christ, we too are transformed. It will affect everything we do - the way we live our lives, the way we react to other people, the way we conduct ourselves.

Christ’s life is our life. Christ’s life is blossoming all around us - we just have to look up and see it.

Tom Wright, Bishop of Durham, says this: “Where God’s people celebrate Jesus Christ’s resurrection, they discover new possibilities opening up in front of them.”

May we, like Mary, open our eyes to new possibilities opening up in front of us, as we celebrate the resurrection.

Christ is risen, alleluia!

Sunday 30th March - Easter 2
10.30 a.m. United Benefice Holy Communion, St Andrew’s, Buckland

Monday 31st March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
11.30 a.m. Funeral of Peggy Downey, Cambridge Crematorium

Tuesday 1st April
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
8.00 p.m. ICES Worship and Psalms, The Rectory

Wednesday 2nd April
8.15 a.m Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
10.30 a.m. Holy Communion, Margaret House, Barley

Thursday 3rd April
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary’s, Reed
10.45 a.m. Holy Communion, Wheatsheaf Meadow House, Barkway

Friday 4th April

Saturday 5th April
9.00 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
evening Friends of Reed Church Race Night, Reed Village Hall

Sunday 6th April - Easter 3
10.30 a.m. United Benefice Sung Eucharist, St Maragaret of Antioch, Barley, with the Revd Mervyn Terrett
6.00 p.m. BCP Evensong, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway, with Frances-Mary Blydenstein

Monday 7th April
No Morning Prayer

Tuesday 8th April
No Morning Prayer

Wednesday 9th April 
8.15 a.m Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Thursday 10th April
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary’s, Reed
4.30 p.m. Churchwardens’ Meeting, The Rectory
8.00 p.m. ICES Worship and Psalms, The Rectory

Friday 11th April

Saturday 12th April
9.00 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Sunday 13th April - Easter 4
10.30 a.m. United Benefice Holy Communion, St Mary’s, Reed, followed by Annual Parochial Church Meeting (Barkway/Reed) and bring-and-share lunch
 

THE COMING MONTH
(Morning Prayer usually takes place each day: Monday and Tuesday in Barkway; Wednesday and Saturday in Barley and Thursday in Reed)

Monday 15th April
12 noon Deanery Chapter, Cottered Vicarage

Wednesday 17th April
8 p.m. North Buntingford Prayer Group, Aylwins, Roe Green

Thursday 17th April
11.30 a.m. Women in Theology Group, The Board Room, Holywell Lodge

Saturday 19th April
a.m. Friends of Barkway Church Plant Sale
7.30 p.m. Concert by Rebecca Starling, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Sunday 16th March - Palm Sunday
9.00 a.m. Parish Communion, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
10.30 a.m. Parish Communion, St Mary’s, Reed
5.00 p.m. Holy Communion for Palm Sunday, meet at Barley VC First School

Monday 17th March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Tuesday 18th March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway

Wednesday 19th March
8.15 a.m Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
12.45 p.m. Funeral, Joyce Fletcher, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion, St Mary’s, Reed

Thursday 20th March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary’s, Reed
10.00 a.m. Barkway VA First School end-of-term service, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
1.45 p.m. Funeral, Maisie Gilham, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion and Watchnight Vigil, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Friday 21st March - Good Friday
10.30 a.m. All-Age Good Friday service, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
1.30 p.m. (-3.00 p.m.) Meditation on the Passion with hymns
7.30 p.m. The Way of the Cross, words and music for Good Friday

Saturday 22nd March - Easter Eve
9.00 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Sunday 23rd March - Easter Day
6.15 a.m. Sunrise service with holy communion and breakfast
9.00 a.m. Easter Holy Communion, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
10.30 a.m. Easter Holy Communion, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway

THE COMING MONTH
(Morning Prayer usually takes place each day: Monday and Tuesday in Barkway; Wednesday and Saturday in Barley and Thursday in Reed)

Monday 24th March
No Morning Prayer

Tuesday 25th March
No Morning Prayer

Sunday 30th March
10.30 a.m. United Benefice Holy Communion, St Andrew’s, Buckland

Tuesday 1st April
8.00 p.m. ICES Worship and Psalms, The Rectory

Wednesday 2nd April
10.30 a.m. Holy Communion, Margaret House, Barley

Thursday 3rd April
10.45 a.m. Holy Communion, Wheatsheaf Meadow House, Barkway

Saturday 5th April
evening Friends of Reed Church Race Night, Reed Village Hall

Sunday 6th April
10.30 a.m. United Benefice Sung Eucharist, St Maragaret of Antioch, Barley, with the Revd Mervyn Terrett
6.00 p.m. BCP Evensong, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway, with Frances-Mary Blydenstein

Signs of life

One of the things that I love most about life is that whatever age you are there is always more to learn and discover about the world around.

One of the things I have recently learned and been fascinated by is how traditional hedging is done. Although I grew up in a village with at least five farms, I had never before witnessed hedge-making. The new hedge in Reed churchyard is definitely worth a look. It has brought a wonderful open feel to that part of the graveyard and is a work of craftmanship. (Tip: try going up there when the sun is setting on a clear day - the skies are wonderful.)

In order to make the hedge, a lot of wood needed to be cut down and pruned. At the moment, the hedge looks somewhat bare, but soon the leaves will grow again and it will turn green, and provide shelter and homes for birds and insects alike.

The life that the hedge will foster reminds me a bit of the Christian story of Easter. In order for life to develop in all its fullness, what was there before need chopping away and pruning. Many bits of wood needed removing totally, while others were bent and shaped to enable the hedge to be formed. There was life there before, but the quality of life that the new hedge will bring will be more abundant.

Easter is the season in which Christians celebrate the abundant life of God, brought about through the resurrection. Of course, life existed before then, but we believe that the resurrection enabled us to see more of God’s true life, a life that is positive and embracing of all, a life that is of a quality that only God can bring about.

That life begins with God’s love and acceptance. As I write, the countryside is bathed in sunshine and springtime. It is easy to feel truly alive at times like this, and we find our spirits buoyed by such lovely weather. But, when the sun goes in and our lives cloud over, we can be comforted by the fact that God’s life, that abundant life, continues, and is based not on our feelings but on God’s constancy and faithfulness.

I hope you will join me in celebrating that this Easter.

With best wishes, Sarah

Sunday 2nd March - Mothering Sunday/Lent 4
9.00 a.m. Parish Communion, St Mary’s, Reed
10.30 a.m. Mothering Sunday service with communion, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley, followed by PCC accounts meeting
6.00 p.m. BCP Evensong, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway

Monday 3rd March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
2.00 p.m. Lent Course, The Rectory

Tuesday 4th March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway

Wednesday 5th March
8.15 a.m Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
10.30 a.m. Holy Communion, Margaret House, Barley
12 noon (- 2p.m.) Lent Lunch, Town House, Barley
8.00 p.m. North Buntingford Group Lent Course, Rushden Village Hall

Thursday 6th March
8.15 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Mary’s, Reed
10.45 a.m. Holy Communion, Wheatsheaf Meadow House, Barkway

Friday 7th March

Saturday 8th March
9.00 a.m. Morning Prayer, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Sunday 9th March - Passion Sunday
10.30 a.m. Parish Communion, with talk by journalist Rachel Harden, St Mary’s, Reed
5.00 p.m. Discover Sunday - Rhinos and Rainbows, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway

THE COMING MONTH
(Morning Prayer usually takes place each day: Monday and Tuesday in Barkway; Wednesday and Saturday in Barley and Thursday in Reed)

Monday 10th March
2.00 p.m. Lent Course, The Rectory
7.00 p.m. Barley VC First School Governors meeting

Wednesday 11th March
12 noon (- 2p.m.) Lent Lunch, Town House, Barley
8.00 p.m. North Buntingford Group Lent Course, Rushden Village Hall

Thursday 12th March
8.00 p.m. ICES Worship and Psalms, The Rectory

Saturday 15th March
5.00 p.m. Steve Price, Gospel Illusionist, Greneway School, Royston

Sunday 16th March - Palm Sunday
9.00 a.m. Parish Communion, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway
10.30 a.m. Parish Communion, St Mary’s, Reed
5.00 p.m. Holy Communion for Palm Sunday, meet at Barley VC First School

Monday 17th March
2.00 p.m. Lent Course, The Rectory
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Tuesday 18th March
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway

Wednesday 19th March
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion, St Mary’s, Reed

Thursday 20th March - Maundy Thursday
10.00 a.m. Barkway VA First School end-of-term service in church
8.00 p.m. Holy Communion and Watchnight Vigil, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley

Friday 21st March - Good Friday
10.30 a.m. All-Age Good Friday service, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
1.30 p.m. (-3.00 p.m.) Meditation on the Passion with hymns
7.30 p.m. The Way of the Cross, words and music for Good Friday

Saturday 22nd March - Easter Eve

Sunday 23rd March - Easter Day
6.15 a.m. Sunrise service with holy communion and breakfast
9.00 a.m. Easter Holy Communion, St Margaret of Antioch, Barley
10.30 a.m. Easter Holy Communion, St Mary Magdalene, Barkway