In the Wake of the Cross

Silent walk behind the cross this morning, trudging the familiar trail through Banchory. Stopping at several wide-spots along the way to hear the story again. To imagine the rejection, the loneliness, the courage and the pain of Jesus on that first Good Friday.

Silent walk. Time to reflect. To think about his sacrifice. To recognise that feeling worthless is self-indulgent and untrue; why would Jesus have died for me, or for you, if we were worthless? In the words of the ad for a beauty product, he died ‘because we’re worth it’. 

Sometimes that is hard to see. Where we see the problems, Jesus sees the potential. He made each one of us. He knows what is inside of us. He knows how to draw the best out ... if we just let him.

Spend some time in silence today. Think about why Jesus did it. Why he left his glory in heaven to live amongst struggling, poor people. Why he allowed himself to be pinned to the cross. 

Because, in his eyes, ‘we’re worth it’. I know, hard to believe. But it’s true not because of who we are, but of who he is.

Silent walk. Time to reflect on my own path. There are things which obscure the road ahead. Is it straight? Does it turn sharply, or bend gently up ahead? Where are the potholes? Where is the ditch? 

Uncertainties fog my vision and I just don’t know. If I allow it to, fear could grip me and paralyse me into inaction, negating faith.

I won’t allow it to. There is no fear in love, because perfect love casts out fear. And what I see on the cross of Calvary is perfect love. Perfect love named Jesus.

Where there are problems, there is potential. Opportunity for me to see God act in amazing ways. I am open for that. I am alert and watching, my hand firmly in the hand of Jesus as I expect him to lead me through the fog. 

I refuse to stand shivering in indecision. I will walk forward, one step at a time, into a future full of hope and joy. 

All because of what Jesus has done on the cross, memorialised today, on Good Friday.

Thanks be to God.

Heady Hyacinths

Three white hyacinths burst forth into bloom last night, spreading a sweet aroma through the room. 

They sit in front of me as I write, and I inhale deeply, savouring their heady scent.

A single pink hyacinth is about to open too, perched on the mantel piece and ready to burst forth.

Smells are so evocative. The smell of hot cross buns as I enter the supermarket takes me straight to Good Friday afternoon, after the 3- hour service at church, when Mom would bake the hot cross buns and Judy and I would frost them, to be eaten with dinner that night and over the ensuing weekend until all were consumed. Sweet memory.

Paul wrote to the Corinthians, ‘we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ...’ That is incredible. That we carry the aroma of Christ, the fragrance of the King of Kings. I know someone who is very partial to Chanel; in fact, I am myself; but this is miles better. Imagine being dabbed by the fragrance of Jesus, a perfume mixed of purity and self-sacrifice, love and goodness, mercy and forgiveness, justice and kindness and joy. 

Yes. Those are the ingredients I value in my perfume. I am so grateful that when God the Father catches a whiff of me, it is the whiff of Jesus, and not the noxious whiff I might otherwise emit, a perfume mixed of bitterness and regret, unforgiveness and selfishness, envy and strife and critical thoughts, injustice, meanness and anger.

Thanks be to Jesus for his wonderful aroma of life.

Spring

Walking Dusty through the familiar woods yesterday and still struggling with aftermath of the flu, my thoughts closed in on myself. Then, suddenly, I was aware of the difference. 

The landscape is still splattered with pockets of snow, which continues to drift sporadically from the sky. The wind hasn’t lost its biting edge. The sun peeks through occasionally, but generally keeps a low profile. To all intents and purposes, it could still be winter.

But the woods are alive with the sound of music, the music of spring. Birds, no doubt a little confused by the chilly weather, nevertheless are into romance and are singing their wee hearts out to each other, hoping to find a mate.

The joy of renewed life.  Of that which has been dead coming back to life. Of course, in nature, it has only appeared dead over the winter as plants hibernated to avoid dropping dead with the cold. 

But today is Good Friday. Having been sick, I’ve missed the usual walks through this Holy Week which I like to do. I like to remember what Jesus did for me. I want to make sure that my gratitude is as real and as full as it should be. But I missed the services, and the walk with the cross.

This morning, though, as I stared out of my prayer alcove window, there glinting in the sun were 3 telephone poles, looking like 3 crosses. 

There are many ways of remembering what Jesus did for us. They don’t all involve going to church or hanging out with church people.

May God renew his life in you over this Easter weekend. May his hope rise within you as the sap rises within the plants and trees. May you know the peace of Christ deep within your heart, as your voice joins the ebullient birds’ chorus. Happy Easter.

Chocolate Overload

The darker the better. That’s my motto when it comes to chocolate.

So although I was told not to take anything for Easter lunch, when I saw the recipe in the paper for a hazelnut and chocolate torte which was as black as ebony, I headed for the kitchen.

Easter can be a challenge for those whose passions don’t include chocolate. There’s always fresh fruit salad, of course – which pairs very well with dark chocolate.

The darker the better.

Can’t get any darker than the events of Good Friday. We watched an ambitious re-enactment of the story of the Passion at the AECC and I cried as Jesus was nailed to the cross. What a horrific death he willingly embraced in order that we might be set free to live with him forever. It is an incredible story of forgiveness and unconditional love. I felt a little annoyed that the production carried on so quickly to the joy of Easter. I needed more time to reflect in the dark, for the full impact of his sacrifice to sink in.

There is something about the darkness of Good Friday. Not that I want to wallow in it, but in order to really rejoice over Jesus’ resurrection, I think I need to take time to consider the high price Jesus was willing to pay to rescue me. To save me, and the world, from eternal darkness. 

The blinding shaft of light on Easter morning is so much more glorious when contrasted with the absolute darkness of Good Friday.

Glory and honour and praise to Jesus. That’s my motto when it comes to Easter.

Fresh fruit salad does go very well with deep chocolate.

Too sweet?

Can anything ever be too sweet?

Well, yes.

I have just made my first attempt at short crust pastry. I know it’s incredible at my age, but I’ve stuck to the oil pastry I learned at my mother’s knee and it’s served me well.

But I saw this recipe for plum and almond tart, and thought I’d give it a whirl.

What I didn’t realize as I measured out the icing sugar into the butter-flour mixture, was that the batteries of this marvellous high-tech digital weighing scale, had jiggled loose. I did think it seemed a little more sugar than I’d imagined was needed. But I went ahead anyway.

It was when I was weighing the marzipan that I realized just how wonky they were. I pulled out my trusted old scale which tends to leap around a bit, but at least gives a ball park figure which has always worked for me before.

So the upshot is – look out, Doug and Joey, as we all may be whizzing with sugar overdose when we go to watch the Passion at the AECC. 

I didn’t realize that loose batteries could result in the weighing scale being so erratic. I’m sure that’s why God wants us to maintain a tight connection to him. When we fail to ground ourselves in God, our thinking grows erratic and our actions betray that we are no longer taking orders from the Top.

Jesus didn’t mention sugar. But he did talk about salt and light, and without secure connections, our lights will definitely fail to illuminate anything.

May your Good Friday be sweetened by the promise of Easter morning. It’s so much better to walk through Good Friday this side of the Cross.