This Pentecost Sunday is a strange day, even stranger than our present usual strange days. This is because our readings are full of gatherings, something denied to us at this time; the gathering of many people to hear the Word of God in their own tongue, the gathering each of us as the Body of Christ, and the gathering of the disciples in a room to witness the Risen Lord. The excitement of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit enthusing us into action, seems slightly ironic at this time when we are dispersed, unable to gather together and witness to this monumental event to the world.

Or can we?

Another irony that is not lost on me is that only two weeks ago I talked about God being found in the ‘gentle breeze’ and how we can witness to our faith through the strength of gentleness. And yet today, we hear of God’s presence in a ‘powerful wind’ and ‘tongues of fire’, a presence so significant that the noise attracted a great assembly. So clearly God can work through the powerful wind and the gentle breeze. It might be tempting to think that this could be considered contradictory in nature, but our second reading, I think, puts this into perspective.

The image of the ‘Body of Christ’ is so powerful because it’s easy to understand. We can all grasp the concept that a nose can smell, an ear can hear etc., so as a teaching aide, it’s an easy entry into collaboration, cooperation, and being open to recognise the skills of others…especially skills that we ourselves might not have. This is one of the supreme strengths of the Church. We have the humility to understand that others can do things better than we can. But on the other hand, we also recognise that we too have skills that others don’t. From there, it’s a short step to recognising that if we get together, free from envy and self-interest, then, as a body, there is nothing we can’t achieve.

Accepting this opens the door to discernment; what skill do I have, how is the Lord calling me to use that skill? Now I know that humility prevents some people from accepting that they have a skill…but you do! If you want to know what it is, then to find out is supremely simple…ask someone. It’s that easy. The answer might not be what you expect. It could perhaps confirm a deep-felt suspicion, or it might be something totally surprising. Whichever; you have a skill.

And how we use those skills is where the wind of the Spirit comes in. You might, for example, need the powerful wind if you are Called to be an apologist, an activist, even a missionary. This might help you, as an individual, to make the most of your skills in a turbulent and hostile world. But you might need the gentle breeze if your skill is prayer, accompanying the lonely, the dying, and the elderly. Of course, we need both at times, but the Body of Christ allows us to be both ministers and to accept ministry from others.

In short, the strongest of ministries and the gentlest of ministries are a tension that is vital to the mission of the Church. Jesus says in our Gospel, ‘Peace be with you’, and then shows the disciples the wounds in his hands and his side; signs, perhaps, of both the gentle breeze and the powerful wind working as one.

What I’m saying is that we are the Church. We are part of the Body of Christ, each using our own personal skills for each other, the glory of the Kingdom, and the glory of God’s name. And that, of course, spills over into the world. We are not a ‘clique’, a private members club or an exclusive gathering of ‘pious’ people. No, far from it, we are a fallen people, redeemed by God, and recognise that this gift is for everyone, regardless of race, gender, creed and anything else…we welcome all people, everywhere.

That is the Spirit of Pentecost in action. We might be separated by distance, unable to meet together, but we are united in the Spirit. We are one in the Body of Christ and it is this oneness, even in isolation, that binds us together.

So, whatever you’re doing in isolation, however you’re expressing your faith…keep doing it. Do it in the knowledge that others are doing what you can’t and that you are doing what others can’t. And do it also in the knowledge that what you’re doing, no matter how small or private, will still, somehow, spill over into the world. That is the nature of the Spirit working in us, the Spirit of Pentecost.

God bless you all.

Deacon Anthony

I will be preaching tomorrow so I thought I would share a poem for Ascension.

No shouts of joy were heard on Olivet.

No trumpets fanfared Risen One’s adieu.

His friends stood trembling, wondering where He was,

And rushed in terror, locked and barred the door.

Ascension Day in context, loss not joy;

No triumph issued from this bruised elect.

Their hopes stood dashed; and rudderless, adrift,

They felt bereft, a horrored disconnect.

If Triumph, trumpet blast or joyous shout,

Is heard at all this day, it issues down.

God sees what lies ahead but knows the grief,

At present, of these frightened fisherman.

The ever wounded One unlocks the gate

And enters, in His robes of Victimhood.

The ring, the sandal, that He set aside,

Are now returned, washed in His martyr’s blood.

The chorus gathers volume. Rank on rank

The choirs proclaim His rising from the tomb.

They carol out the Song with which, in time,

The Holy Spirit’s power will flood a room.

Laudato Si’ Week 5^th Anniversary – 16-24 May 2020

This year is the 5^th Anniversary of Laudato Si’. Laudato Si’ tells us that “everything is connected” and tragically, the current health catastrophe has much in common with the ecological catastrophe. Both are global emergencies that will affect many people, both directly and indirectly. Despite the current situation, there are still lots of ways we can take action to mark this anniversary, sharing the common prayer and celebrating what we have achieved in our homes, schools and parishes.

CAFOD and Caritas Plymouth have produced a summary of resources for anyone interested in exploring further the message of Laudato Si’.  A note will be posted on the Plymouth Diocese website next week.  During the week itself we will be sharing reflections and examples of how our Diocese is taking action via our Diocesan Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/plymouthdiocese/  Please let Deborah know if your parish would like to share anything caritas@prcdtr.org.uk.

When I look through the readings on any given day, there is always a word, or a phrase, in each reading which pops out at me and starts a thought process, seemingly at random. And it’s these ‘random’ thoughts that I’d like to share with you today.

Our first reading, from Acts, features Philip, one of the first seven deacons. Far from being ordained by the Apostles to ‘wait on table’, here Philip is catechising, preaching and baptising, just as he did with the Ethiopian Eunuch. Then, at some later time, the Apostles ‘confirmed’ the new members, just as our Bishop does today. So, although this reading actually says something about the ministerial role of the ordained clergy, it also reminds us of something else.

Two weeks ago, when we were remembering especially those who are discerning, or have followed, their vocation to the religious life, I pointed out that by virtue of our baptism we all have a share in the common priesthood. So too here. Priests are ordained deacon before priest and bishops still wear a dalmatic, the deacon’s vestment, on solemn occasions under their priestly vestment, the chasuble. This is to remind them that they are servants (the root of diakonia), because a deacon is ordained as a servant, albeit with particular duties. But of course, this is the vocation of every Christian. So through our baptism, we not only share in the common priesthood, but we also share in the common diaconate. This reading is a reminder to us that we, as disciples of Christ, are called to serve…to serve God, to serve each other, and to serve all people to the glory of God’s name. And we can do that by embracing the common diaconate within each one of us.

In our second reading, Peter talks of witness. He’s not talking about apologetics, defending the faith, he’s talking about personal witness to the truth that has been given us through the gift of faith. And what I love about this reading is that it’s so gentle. It is not up to us to convince people, it is up to us to sow the seed. The rest is a conversation between them and God. Here, we are being asked to pass on our personal faith with respect and courtesy, witnessing to our Saviour in the gentlest of ways.

Our Gospel reading speaks of keeping Christ’s commandments, not once, but twice. But what are Christ’s commandments? My copy of the code of canon law has 1752 laws…but although Jesus left us many teachings, his two commandments were to love God and to love each other. From these two commandments the whole of the Christian life flows. In fact, if humanity kept these laws there would be no need for any others.

I said at the beginning that these were seemingly random thoughts that entered my head as I was reading our Scripture readings for today. But as I thought about it, I remembered a documentary that I watched some time ago about the Bible; how it was written and constructed. A researcher, who claimed no faith, pointed out that the unity of message and the way that the Bible references itself throughout the ages it was written over, was nothing short of a miracle (and he was aware of the connotations of what he was saying). The reason for that of course, is that although it was indeed written over many centuries through different sources, it has only one author…God. Armed with that, I looked at my random thoughts again.

So I’ve talked about embracing our common diaconate, giving personal witness to our faith, and keeping the commandments that Christ has given us.

How do we embrace our common diaconate? By giving personal witness to our faith and by seeking to keep Christ’s commandments. How do we give personal witness to our faith? By embracing our common diaconate and seeking to keep Christ’s commandments. How do we keep Christ’s commandments? By embracing our common diaconate and giving personal witness to our faith.

Scripture is one, it’s whole, it’s complete; just as God is. And this completeness extends to us, both corporately and as individuals, because we are part of Scripture. Holy Scripture was written for us and as such, our response becomes an inextricable part of it. And none of what we are called to do is onerous, it is simply a natural extension to the gift of faith. The key is gentleness. Just as God was found in the gentle breeze, so are His words of life. We are called to stand in that gentle breeze, to soak in it and witness to it. And in doing so, we can stand in wonder that such immense power is wielded so gently and so beautifully.

With every blessing, Deacon Anthony x

A few days ago I saw two cartoons which made me smile. The first was a little boy asking his mum ‘Am I adopted’ and the frayed mum, after weeks of home schooling, saying ‘I doubt it, I only put the advert in yesterday’. And the other is the same question being asked by a boy to his dad. And the father, rather cruelly, says ‘don’t be ridiculous, why would I have chosen you’. Now neither of these are in any way noble or holy but they struck a chord with today’s second reading in which Peter tells us that we are ‘a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a consecrated nation, a people set apart.’

It is the chosen nature that struck me.  I have told you before how when I was about 13 I wanted to be an only child and when I was 16, I hoped I had been adopted, but not from the point of view of having been chosen, but because that way I might find I was related by birth to other people. Now don’t get me wrong I am not proud of this rather stupid and brattish sentiment but it does point out something important….being adopted brings you, by the choice of the adopter, into a new and untested relationship. All sorts of opportunities and possibilities are presented. In the relationship that we are invited into with the father, this is the case for each and every one of us. We are His adopted/chosen sons and daughters.

However, Peter goes beyond that. Not just chosen, we are made into a royal priesthood. In the Ancient world, those two statuses, Priest and King, were at the very top of any pecking order and here, his listeners are told, they enjoy that position. Many of them in their lives would have been anything but influential or significant or important in the eyes of society and yet the new relationship they are invited in to with God opens out a previously unimagined vista. But it is not about taking on the royal and priestly robes of oppression and ancient power; it is about emulating the king who served, the priest who sacrificed Himself.

 These same people are consecrated, they are made holy by the action of God. Again, many, if not most, would have been in situations where they were seen as unclean or lowly or sinners and yet here, by God’s action, they are transformed. It does not matter what others might say or think or assume….God has said and thought and decided something different.

They are made into a people. This too is of immense importance. A people are only called as such when they are united and have a common heritage. The wonder of God is that He has taken a ragtag bunch of misfits and beggars, of losers and cowards, of the rejected and the lost, I could go on but you get my drift, and He has blended them, moulded them into a people. A gathering of people who look the same way, who look to the same goal and are inspired by the same power.

However, this union only makes sense if those within it understand that they have been given this amazing transforming grace not for themselves , not to gather and close themselves off. The setting apart is not to isolate but to enable. They are set apart, you could say, so that they have room to breathe and stretch their lungs so as to fully and worthily and clearly proclaim the source from which they draw their hope and joy and mission.

And what is that source. It is the One who declares Himself ‘The Way, the Truth and the Life’. So what would be His ‘Way’? Well, how do we see Him moving through His public ministry? He is always intent on welcoming the lost and discarded. He is always ready with a word of encouragement and forgiveness and love. He goes out of His way to enable the isolated to feel welcome and give them a sense of belonging.

And His ‘Truth’? Nobody is outside the reach of God; nobody should feel their lives are worthless; it is never too late.

And His ‘Life’? Well that one is impossible to encapsulate into a sentence or two. Over the last few days we may well have been thinking about relatives near or long distant past to whom we owe a debt of gratitude. We may have tried to recall them or find out more about them. After all, their lives, their actions and sacrifices, had a profound effect on where and who we are now. Well, if that is true of those men and women from 75 years ago whose memories live in other’s hearts how much more is there from the one who lived and died 2,000 years ago but, if we allow Him, we know can be more alive and more powerful in us than any fallen or forgotten hero’s memory.

We are chosen not because of us but because of Him. To return to my jokes at the beginning. To the first ‘Am I adopted’ ? God might say: ‘Always, and it is my joy that you are.’ And to the second, He might say: ‘Always, for I could not be happy without you’. Not quite so funny I grant you, but I hope, so much more true.

Today, the 4^th Sunday of Easter, is also designated ‘world day of prayer for vocations’, and we’re encouraged to remember in our prayers those who have followed their call to vocation, most obviously priests, deacons and religious, as well as those presently discerning God’s call to them. Of course, it’s absolutely right to pray for, and give thanks to God for, our priests, who literally offer life itself through He who died and rose again for love of us; for deacons, who serve in so many ways and often in ways unseen; and for our religious who I believe have saved the world on numerous occasions through their life of prayer and witness.

          But I want to talk about the vocation of the ‘common’ priesthood that Lumen Gentium, one of the major documents from Vatican II, talks of. The priesthood that, albeit in their own proper ways, is a common sharing in the priesthood of Christ between ordained, religious and lay faithful. We all have a sharing in this by virtue of our baptism, so it’s a responsibility that we must take seriously. But how?

          Today’s readings, as you might expect, offer some guidance, not only to the ministerial priesthood, but also to the rest of us desperately trying to live up to our common sharing in Christ’s priestly vocation.

          Our first reading from Acts, I find very interesting. Not only because it tells of the early Church (which Vatican II was endeavouring to move closer to) but also because of the detail that it goes into. When asked ‘what must we do’, Peter said; ‘you must repent’ and ‘you must be baptised’. So, two things. The first was not unlike John the Baptist’s message, preaching a baptism of repentance. But it has been elevated by adhering to Christ’s command at the very end of Matthew’s Gospel…’go, make disciples of all people and baptise them in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit’. Make no mistake, this isn’t simply a baptism of repentance, but much deeper, more a commitment of discipleship. Because in these two actions we’re being asked to firstly; not simply repent of the times we’ve failed, but to recognise those times, to be sorry from our hearts, and to commit to trying to eradicate them in the future. Secondly, once we accept the need for forgiveness, to recognise that there is only one person who can make that happen and in response to this, to declare in public, in the early Church’s case by the act of baptism, that we accept this.

          In those days, of course, adult baptism was the norm and baptism was very much a public act of commitment. Today, when most are baptised in infancy, we publicly commit in many ways; through the Sacrament of Reconciliation, through gathering in church, and simply by the way we try to live our lives. Regardless of how we do it, we are publicly committing to Christ through our recognition that He alone can save us through his boundless mercy. So, here we have one of the ways that we share in the common priesthood, put simply, we have accepted the gift of faith.

          Our second reading, from Peter, is a lesson in humility…and yes, I struggle with this one; bearing punishment unjustly. I really struggle not to defend myself at times when I know I’m innocent of the charge. But, occasionally I manage it. And when I do, I always chalk it up as a victory to Christ! This might seem a tad churlish, as there are many more exacting ways to offer humility, but this one particularly, for me, touched a nerve. The point is though, think of a way in which humility touches a nerve for you, and that is what we’re called to do. Humility is sharing in our common priesthood.

          And what about our Gospel from John. The beautiful image of Christ the Good Shepherd. As members of the common priesthood, we are called to know him and to follow him. But I know that some of us have occasional doubts and swing between firm faith and something a little less positive.

Looking back to our first reading, we’re told that Peter used ‘many arguments’ and that these arguments were accepted by many. The catechism tells us that we can ‘prove’ God through various ‘ways’, and it seems that Peter’s listeners were won over through arguments that appealed to the ‘head’. I have often said to people, don’t try to reason God with your head because you never will. You can’t prove God to yourself simply be reason. Instead, think with your heart. Does this mean I’m at odds with the catechism? No…(a sigh of relief all around). Peter’s listeners heard the arguments, but the Spirit was at work in them, guiding their thoughts, opening their hearts to accept the gift of faith. If we listen with our hearts, we will know the voice of Jesus, giving us the freedom to follow him knowing that it is He. We won’t be seduced by an imposter, a thief, or a brigand. To share in the common priesthood, we are called to open our hearts, listen, to allow our hearts to be informed and to ignore the imposter in our head.

I suppose what I’m arguing for is that to share in our common priesthood involves a number of things, perhaps different things for different people. But heartfelt repentance, public commitment, humility, and listening with our hearts, has to be in the mix somewhere. Yes, thank God for our priests…we need them, love them (even the grumpy ones), and offer our humble thanks for their ministry of selflessness and love. But thank God also for the gift of faith which allows us to share in the priesthood of Christ as a witness to his mercy, his compassion, and his love for all of humankind. And that’s a message that an awful lot of people need to hear right now.

With my love and my prayers. May God bless you all…and keep safe. Deacon Anthony

Perhaps one of the most well known of the Resurrection appearances. Cleopas and the other disciple, fleeing from Jerusalem at the very first opportunity, suddenly meet a stranger who enters into conversation with them and opens out their shattered and depressed minds to new possibilities. Together, they reflect on the scriptures, they console and encourage each other and then, in the breaking of the bread, they encounter their Risen Lord and in the strength of that, they turn round and immediately head back the 7 miles to the very place from which they had been escaping.

Three things always strike me about this story. Firstly, once again we come up against one simple phrase which, to me, sums up the whole story. ‘He made as if to go on’. As they come close to Emmaus, the place of safety and rest, the two disciples of the, as they think, dead Jesus show that his message has begun to take root in them. They pressed him to stay, they had, at least in a small way, understood the table fellowship, the hospitality of their master. What would have happened if they had not. If they had said goodbye and gone down into the town and left the stranger to walk along the high road and out of their lives. Two things perhaps, they would never have known that the Lord had risen and secondly, they therefore would not have gone back and encouraged their brothers and sisters. For the sake of a nail, a kingdom was lost !!

Small, seemingly insignificant actions, words and thoughts can have profound effects, far more far reaching than would be imagined when looking at the actual word or action. Cleopas and the other disciple, and I always wonder why one is named and one is not but I have no wise explanation, are enabled to be the catalyst for a rebirth in faith of the other disciples. That would not have happened, if they had not invited the stranger to stay. It’s good to remind ourselves of the effects our actions can have, maybe not as powerful as this one but then who are we to judge. We can’t see the full picture.

Secondly, although they had begun to imbibe his practical teaching about table fellowship and welcome they still had no understanding of everything else they had been told by him. Even when the women returned with the news of Resurrection they could not and would not understand it. They were still running away. It does not matter how much someone is told, it doesn’t matter how many facts are thrown down, or shown or shared. For something to be accepted it has to be understood at a deep level. For our experience of God to be real it has to be our experience, other people telling me what I ought to believe or should believe does not make me any more likely to believe it. This seems a very important thought when we are seeking to find ways of sharing faith and enabling other people to come to know Christ. Cleopas was not helped by being just given facts, his heart burned within him because the facts were being explained and opened out in a way that he could grasp. Thirdly, ‘yes it is true, the Lord has risen and has appeared to Simon’. Go on, search the Gospels, try and find this appearance to Simon. It isn’t there. We have no record, in any of the Gospels, of an individual appearance to Simon. I love this little fact. It doesn’t make me doubt or question it makes me rejoice. If they did not record this one, what other ones did they not record? Just as John says that he does not record everything the Lord said and did because all the books in the world could not hold it…and I love that hyperbole….so we evidently do not have all the Resurrection appearances. God is not controlled by us, we cannot ‘contain’ Him. He chose to enter fully into our condition and became a human being but He is also far above and beyond our little grasp. That is the Mystery of God for me; not what I don’t know about Him, because I’ll get to know all of that in His good time, no, for me, the Mystery of God is why He bothers with us in the first place. He is so far above, so fully beyond and yet has chosen to come so close and to remain so. It is the personal nature of this unrecorded appearance which makes my heart glow. Why did He do this? What did He say at this time to His thrice failed friend? Whatever it was, Peter became the Apostle, leader and preacher that Jesus always knew he would be and we hear his first sermon today.

Today is known by many things…Low Sunday, the second Sunday in Eastertime, the last day in the Easter Octave, and, of course, Divine Mercy Sunday. There are some who are not fans of the feast of Divine Mercy, as they feel it has hijacked, somewhat, the greatest feast in the Church’s year, Easter. This is largely because the novena of the Divine Mercy starts on Good Friday and so overlaps with part of the Triduum and all of Easter week. Is it too much for us to dwell on two things at once? Not if they’re the same thing.

          After all, what is Easter about apart from mercy? Didn’t God send His Son to us out of mercy? Didn’t Jesus willingly go to the Cross and rise again for us out of mercy? Weren’t we saved through the greatest gift there is…mercy?

          I love our first reading. It’s a rare snapshot of life in the early Christian community and stresses its oneness, not only with each other, but also with Jesus. It would have been easy to say, “miracles and signs worked ‘BY’ the apostles…”, but no. The simple matter of factness of the word ‘THROUGH’ demonstrates how much the risen Master and his disciples were joined. They were looked up to by everyone, perhaps a que for a question to ask ourselves today; is our Christian community looked up to? If so, why, if not, why? But that’s a detour.

The important thing about this community was that they realised they were not closed, a click, a chosen few. Although they still had to grapple with the full extent of this, they understood that their community was open to everyone, ultimately, regardless of who they were. They were a Church, freely dispensing the mercy of God to others. And the reason for this can be found in our second reading from Peter.

The promise of inheritance is sure; it cannot be ‘spoilt or soiled and will never fade away’. Why? Because this isn’t some human promise, a promise that can be withdrawn at any time. No, this is a promise from God, whose ways are so far above our ways that we can hardly believe they’re true…but they are. This is why our hope is sure, not hoped for in the human sense, but promised by He who gave His life for us. And because of this sure hope, the early community was obliged, willingly, but nonetheless, obliged to offer this gift to all they met dispensing the mercy of God as freely as it is given.

We hear more about the inspiration behind the early Church in our Gospel reading. The disciples who denied, betrayed and abandoned Christ in His hour of need were here given the responsibility of building His Church. This is corporate mercy to which we could rightly shed a tear for the sheer beauty of; a friend forgiving his nearest their frailty, weakness, and fear, and instead of berating them, they were entrusted with the Church. The apostles had indeed tasted the Lord’s mercy, and this is undoubtedly what gave them the strength to take on the task in hand.

And then, there’s the question of Thomas. Make no mistake, Thomas was a noble man. Only three weeks ago, we heard that this same Thomas, forever labelled ‘doubting’ Thomas, was prepared to go back to Judaea to die with Christ. He might not have fully understood who Jesus was, but he was prepared to die for him. A lot of water has since flowed under the bridge and Thomas too had abandoned Christ at Calvary and now refused to believe that his friend had Risen. In fairness, who wouldn’t? Surely, most of us have had doubts at some point, being unable to comprehend that such a gift should be given to us, and many wrestle with aspects of faith. But the mercy of God touched Thomas.

The wonderful thing about this account is that mercy is gradually working its way down; from the gift of mercy to all of humanity, won for us without effort on our part and certainly not deserving it, to corporate mercy for His Church, despite weakness and failings, and finally to an act of mercy for an individual, an individual who perhaps shares many of our doubts and shortfalls today. In short, the gift of mercy touches us all, from the seemingly impossible feats of global forgiveness, through support and encouragement, despite the failings, for His Church, and to you and I as individuals.

And that’s where we come in. The early Church from Acts is not some distant, strange memory that we don’t understand…it’s OUR Church. The inheritance and hope talked of by Peter is not reserved for those of Peter’s day…it’s OUR inheritance and hope. Jesus didn’t die and rise again for the few…but for US. Mercy is universal, but it’s also for us as individuals.

We have accepted the gift of faith and all that comes with it. The gift of love, of compassion, of solidarity and, of course, the gift of mercy. As such, we are called to dispense mercy ourselves, not our mercy, but the mercy of Christ working through us. And sometimes, this can be in the very smallest of ways. Mercy is love in action. Mercy is healing. Mercy is a sign of Christ’s presence here on Earth.

So on this Easter Octave day, I wish you a very happy Easter and pray that we are all both recipients and dispensers of the mercy of God in our daily lives and that we receive the Grace that will allow us to do this with generosity in our heart and the praise of God on our tongues.

Deacon Anthony

At this time for our world where the virus seems to be in control of our lives it is of immense importance, as Christians, to focus on the message to the women at the tomb.

Do not be afraid; Peace be with you; and ‘before them into Galilee’.

Do not be afraid.

We, as followers of the Risen Christ, have an essential message to live and, when we are able to again, to share. Although at the moment, where we are having to stay isolated and separate from loved ones, friends and our normal life it can be so easy to lose heart and to become despondent it is central to our faith that this virus does not have the last word. Even to those who have died, alone and without family near, the message is ‘Do not be afraid’. This Feast tells us that the last time you spoke with your loved one is not the last time, the last time you hugged or embraced your loved one, that is not the last time. Sorrow, Sadness, Grief – they are inevitable and understandable words here, but they are not the last words.

The Lord’s earthly life is bracketed, topped and tailed with the words ‘Fear not’. The Angels at the Annunciation, the Angels at the Resurrection. They are the punctuation, you could say, of the story of Jesus. They are the divinely sent words that wrap around His life, the embrace of God.

Peace be with you.

This is not a peace that the world gives, we know. It’s more, so much more. It’s a realization that no matter what happens, War, Disease, Famine, Isolation. Stress, Insecurity, the Peace of God is still there. Those words are powerful and we cannot pretend they do not unnerve and terrify and it would be ridiculous to claim that they do not but they are not the words upon which God wants us to build our life. They are shaky, unnerving and undermining words. If we build our vision of the world on these then all will fall but we are being offered something impregnable and lasting. Those other things may well happen and they may well frighten and sadden but we do not need to allow them to be the basis for our lives. His peace is gentle, His peace is all encompassing, His peace is also the rock upon which are futures can be secure.

‘He goes before you into Galilee’

Galilee is a big place, where in Galilee ? Perhaps Galilee can be seen as representative of something. For the Apostles it would have been the scene of some of Jesus’ greatest triumphs although also it was the scene of some of his biggest struggles. (After all they did try to throw him off a cliff in Capernaum). It was where they were most themselves.

Perhaps He goes before them into Galilee to the place where they will face reality – not run away or skulk in an attic but in Galilee they can recapture and reinvigorate the people they had been. The Lord does this time and again in His ministry, giving people time to recapture the humanity they are in danger of losing. He is awaiting them where He has always been.

He does not demand they change, He asks only that they allow Him to change them. He does not demand shame and self hate which serves no purpose, He asks only that they face up to who they are and who they could become. It’s in this ‘facing’ that He is able to encounter them and help them to grow.

It is always fascinating to me that Jesus, after the Resurrection is never recognized until He does something they remember. He is the New Life, transformed and resurrected but He is still their Jesus. Resurrection does not destroy what was, it enhances and transforms it.

Galilee, in which the Lord waits, is who I am. He waits in my reality, He does not ask of me the impossible. He only asks me to meet Him as myself, not the person I would like to be, not the person I pretend to be.

Resurrected Life is our future but the journey, we’re on it now. Alleluia, He is Risen.