24th May 2020 Seventh Sunday of Easter
Acts 1.6-14; Psalm 68; 1 Peter 4. 12-14; 5. 6-11
I wonder whether we as a culture or nation have lost contact with a true understanding of suffering. I know that suffering is subjective and that each person suffers in their own way, the same thing that is a burden to one will be nothing to another, but much of what I hear when people talk to me when misfortune befalls them is concerned with the fact that something is not right or fair and that we have a right to have it sorted out. This seems to be a very western view on life and the world doesn’t really work like that. Even in these days of shared adversity there are those in the eastern parts of our world who would not dare to dream of this as a way of life.
The Epistle from St Peter reminds us that the Kingdom of God has not yet come, indeed we pray for it every day in this novena between the Ascension and Pentecost, “Thy Kingdom Come” we pray in acknowledgement of this fact and while we get the occasional glimpse of it, we cannot expect the world to operate as if it is already here.
We will get trials and tribulations, face persecution and discrimination, unfairness and evil, but we should be encouraged as we do because in some small way we are emulating our Saviour, becoming more and more like Him as we learn to react differently and take just one more small step along the way to the eternal communion with the God from whom we came and in whom we live and breathe and have our being.
None of this prevents us from being frightened, indeed many of the conversations I have with people while we are buried in this pandemic, have a thread of that fear running through them. On this Sunday, trapped as we are between Ascension and Pentecost, we can more closely relate to how the disciples must have felt, left without their friend and guide, surrounded by people who were looking for them to ensure they received the same fate as their master. How often do we feel alone, without the prospect of comfort?
But our fear has other elements. We also fear because we know that God fulfilled His promise and sent the Advocate, the Comforter, to “ead us into all truth” and we are not sure that the truth that we will see through Him is the truth that we want to see at all, we fear that God’s truth will make us uncomfortable.
There is consolation and comfort in our scriptures, but again, not as we might want to see it. Peter tells us to “humble” ourselves – not Uriah Heap’s “truly ‘umble” viciousness, but to burrow down into the true meaning of the word, to be “rooted in the earth”, to be honest and realistic with ourselves; to get to know ourselves “warts and all” and for us to acknowledge that without God at our heart we are nothing, to admit that our own need of God is desperate.
And herein lies the comfort. Jesus, knowing our need, prays for us. Chapter 17 of Johns Gospel, from which we hear today is His prayer for all of us, as His disciples, to God our Father that we may be one as they are one – INTERDEPENDENT. Reverend Richard Rohr describes it as “a flow, a relationship, a waterwheel of always outpouring love”
In and through Jesus Christ we are one with the Father; all of us; members of the various splinters of the church we call denominations, our brothers and sisters with other faiths, and those without any faith at all. This is what makes us members one of another and to live in ways that tell out how we are defended from all that would devour us.
We have seen this in action in our current pandemic. The myriad of small groups and individuals, networks of people across our villages, towns and cities, who have been putting themselves at risk to care for those who are more vulnerable than they are.
We are truly blessed to be able to practice our faith where belief is a matter of conscience, but in Jesus’ prayer to our Father and our prayers that echo His, we become one with those who do risk life and limb, simply by believing. May our prayers, embedded in Jesus’ prayer for all of us, bring them comfort and peace. Amen.
10th May 2020 Fifth Sunday of Easter
Reading the Old Testament lesson for morning prayer this morning (Friday: Exodus 35.20 – 36.7) I was struck by the generosity of the Israelites who had been asked by Moses to donate gold and jewels to decorate the Tent of Meeting and the vestments to be worn by Aaron in his role as priest. The artisans had to ask for them to stop because they were being overwhelmed by their generosity and were not going to be able to use all that they had been given.
It remains the case today, as we have seen in the parishes across the benefice, that when our buildings are in need of repair, our friends and neighbours are generous in their contributions to this cause. Buildings are important to us, and it has been very difficult for all of us to be locked out of our houses of prayer so that we cannot gather to sing, pray and break bread together, to offer God our worship in praise and thanksgiving for all that He has given and done for us, particularly during this Eastertide.
The Bishops have met nationally this week and +Peter and +Ruth are consulting and considering the options open to us in order to slowly open our buildings again for the purposes for which they were built. There is nothing quite so sad as something not being used for the purpose it has been created, but patience and caution I think will be repaid.
I still find our relationships to our church buildings interesting, first having carried out some research on it about 10 years ago. They are very important to us in the household of faith, but also to those of other faiths and none. Though we are not always sure of why it is so, and are often unable to articulate the depth of meaning to our attachment, I have found that part of it is because they stand as witnesses to God, and as such offer people the light of hope.
In Our Gospel reading this Sunday we have the first 14 verses of the 14th chapter of St John, one that we would have heard many times at funerals. And we hear it there again and again because it too gives us the light of hope. In it Jesus is travelling to Jerusalem for the final time, knowing that he is going to torture and death, and he has just managed to get the disciples to understand that he will be leaving them and not coming back. They are frightened and Jesus’ words to them in their fear are preserved so that we too can find comfort in our darkest times.
Jesus talks about a house. More than that, he talks about a family home, a place of safety and sanctuary in a frightening world. There a place has been prepared for each and every one of us in this home, with enough space for all to live and love alongside each other, surrounded by the loving support of our entire family around us. To get there, and just like the disciples, we have to leave behind some of the things that we have become used to in this life and look forward. Forward to a time when there is no more crying or pain, where death is no more and we are reunited with all whom we love but see no longer.
In a week when we commemorate the end of a war that had lasted 6 years and was going to have repercussions for many decades to come and we continue to keep our distance from each other for fear of spreading a virus that has become our new enemy, we could do worse than to look to the future, when we can go out again, meet our friends again, live full lives again but all the while saving a thought in this time of reflection for the way we get to our eternal home, and spend some time shaping our lives to become more like the Way and the Truth and the Life, who is our companion on the journey to our eternal home.
26th April 2020 – Third Sunday of Easter
Acts 2.36-41; Luke 24.13-35
Both of these passages – the mass conversion on the first day of Pentecost and the Revelation to the disciples on the road to Emmaus – have their roots with the same author and there is a complementarity to them. Reading one without the other loses a depth of meaning that draws us towards God.
In the conversion narrative, the people acknowledge their mistake, their sin if you will, and they repent of it and so are received into the church through Baptism. In the Emmaus narrative, the disciples begin by not understanding, or perhaps mis-understanding, Jesus life and message and hoe He had fulfilled all that the scriptures foretold about the Messiah that had been promised to Israel. It is not until they recognise Jesus for who He is that the meaning becomes clear, and the breaking of the bread anticipates the other dominical sacrament of the Eucharist.
And it is just the same with us. Until we acknowledge what we have done wrong we cannot make things right. Until we have burrowed into the depths of the scriptures, understood and applied them, we find it difficult to comprehend how our lives can be different. And it is in being different that we become truly Christian.
We are called to be in the world, but not of it. This really means that we are called to not let the world shape our lives, our actions and our thinking, but to have them all shaped and moulded by the Word of God.
I wonder how you are taking advantage of the opportunities that the lockdown has presented you to become more familiar with the scriptures? Many of you will have more space in your day because you are not able to undertake many of the things that fill your time. Now that many of the tasks about the house are done – the garden is tidy, the decorating done, the garage cleared, and there is never anything decent on the television – perhaps there is an opportunity to pick up your bible and, with the luxury of time, read a whole book at one sitting. How about Luke’s Gospel, or one of Paul’s letters? We remember the Emmaus story, or the Prodigal Son or the “Faith, Hope and Love” passage from 1 Corinthians, but how do they fit in with the wider narrative of God’s interaction and salvation of His people.
I would like to make our weekly sheet much more of a newsletter with contributions from people across the benefice, and that includes you. Send me your thoughts on the readings, or a passage from a book that has developed your faith. Perhaps you have been inspired to write or paint something after reading one of the parables. Maybe you have a question you have always wanted to ask about your faith, then please ask it, I can guarantee you are not the only one who wants to know the answer!
19th April 2020 – 2nd Sunday of Easter
“Therefore, my heart was glad, and my tongue rejoiced, moreover my flesh will live in hope” Acts 2 verse 26
These words of St Peter to the crowd on the first Day of Pentecost, were challenging to them but are also challenging to us as we learn that our lockdown and isolation are extended for at least another three weeks. Peter was convinced that he would rejoice and live in hope, but what does it mean to live in hope in these times? What is Christian Hope?
Dictionary definitions are not really that helpful as they come from a secular perspective. They speak of “the expectation and desire for a particular thing to happen”. So, hope is something that we want and expect. But what difference does it make when we talk of Christian Hope?
Christian Hope has an additional awareness that what humankind can learn and know is by definition provisional. It doesn’t take long in a journey back through human history to find that what we thought was an eternal truth is turned upside down by a later discovery. Our faith in God incorporates within it a trust that what God can make possible is not constrained by what women and men are able to imagine or plan. We would not have got very far if it was!
St Augustine spoke of hope being “triadic”, that is that Faith, Hope and Love are an eternal triangle, each of them equal in importance and unable to exist without both of the others. This is the Hope that has turned into prayer, “Thy Kingdome Come” and “give us this day our daily bread” representing that which we cannot fully comprehend, but which we are confident of their ultimate satisfaction.
This is the confidence that we all need in our troubled times. We are ourselves “locked behind closed doors” for fear of the Covid-19 virus, and we begin to fear the shape of the world that will come when the lockdown finally starts to be relaxed. But we have this Hope. Not in the things that we have seen – who hopes in those things? – but in things that we cannot see because our imagination is too limited. How often have we heard that we should “rejoice in our suffering, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.” To our human mind it does not make sense, but my experience and that of others more qualified than me witnesses to the truth of St Paul’s words to the Romans.
The spirit of God will set us free, even as we are isolated and apparently alone, because all our worst fears have been defeated in the resurrection of Jesus from the dead. In these coming weeks, in the silence and solitude gifted to you by Social Distancing, gently invite the Holy Spirit, given at that first Pentecost through St Peter, into your hearts and ask God to reveal all that He would have for you.
12th April 2020 – Easter Day
Alleluia! Christ is Risen! He is Risen indeed! Alleluia!
I am writing this reflection for you on Holy Saturday, the day that traditionally the church reflects upon Christ in the tomb, separated from the ones he loves and who love Him, not only by death but by a physical distance, behind the stone that is yet to be rolled away. This is a situation to which some of us can relate more practically this year than perhaps ever before, as we begin the fourth week of our social distancing measures.
It is the time that Jesus spent in the tomb that I would like us to hold onto this year. The tradition developed in the very earliest days of Christianity that Jesus was active in the tomb just as He was in life. This tradition is known as the Harrowing of Hell, though recently thought of more as Hallowing (making Holy) than the farming practice of harrowing to prepare the soil.
The image above was given to me and other ministers at the last ministry conference I attended in the Diocese of Peterborough before I moved here. It references Matthew 16:18, “And I tell you, you are Peter, and on tis rock I will build this church, and the gates of Hades will not prevail against it.” The figures in the darkness of hell include Herod, Pilate and even Judas, who, now that the gates that bar their reconciliation to God have been broken down, are being given a helping hand through the open gap by Jesus Himself.
While we remain at a social distance, restrictions surrounding which will continue for some time to come, and with many of our day to day distractions unavailable to us, we may have more time to reflect on who we are and the things that are important to us. While this exercise is a foundation of the Christian tradition, undertaking it is always difficult and in these times to suddenly be confronted by ourselves, who we really are, makes it much harder. While some of us remain busy, and even see the hours we are working increase, others of us find that the busy-ness that we held onto as the reason why we were unable to engage with God on a more frequent basis, was not the reason at all.
All that we hoped to do “when we have more time” somehow remains unfinished. In my case, the pile of books I was going to read remain unread, the poems I was going to write remain unwritten. The garden and the allotment do look better than they have ever done but the aches and pains I now experience tell me that perhaps I have been a little too enthusiastic! I shall have to slow down.
And in that slowing down, I will enter into another place. A quieter place. A desert place. A place where the distractions and busy-ness that I have allowed to become my life become less and less important. I pray that as we do this together, the gates that we have put in place to bar our closer communion with each other are broken down by the power of the Crucified God and, when our time in isolation and distance finally comes to an end, we may all find that the world is a kinder, more compassionate, even slower place than we remember and that the light of Christ which lives within each one of us will shine ever brighter and brighter infecting those around us with the love that even the gates of Hades have not prevailed against it.
Alleluia! Christ is Risen! He is Risen indeed! Alleluia!
Sunday 5thApril 2020 – Palm Sunday
Liturgy of the Palms: Matthew 21. 1-11
Holy Communion: Philippians 2.5-11 and Matthew 26.14-27-end
This has been the first week of British Summer Time, and I don’t know about you, but every year, and this year is no exception, I seem to struggle to make the switch. Over the years I have come to the conclusion that my body works on good old Greenwich Mean Time and there seems to be little I can do about it.
This year, of course, we have much more that is different to get used to. We are staying at home as much as we can to protect our NHS and save lives. No more trips to the coffee shop, the pub or browsing in our favourite shops. If we have a car for much of the time it stays on the drive gathering dust. If and when we meet people, even the dearest of friends and family, we remain at a safe distance and are unable to shake hands of offer a kiss of welcome. We look forward to Holy Week trying to work out how we can follow Jesus’ journey to the cross without meeting together, going into our churches, singing the familiar hymns, or walking in procession.
This past week I have taken one of those books from my shelves that was bought in a time of more freedom of movement which was immediately interesting but remained on my shelf. It is “The Splash of Words: Believing in Poetry” written by Mark Oakley and it is the introduction that has had a profound impact. In the book Canon Oakley suggests that rather than always thinking of scripture as prose and looking to find fact and truth – though these are in there, we might look at the scriptures as one looks at a poem. Not in the way that we had to at school, the “what did the author mean by this line or by that phrase” approach, but by allowing it to work in us, like the lines of a favourite song that expresses what we would say if we could find the words that we hear “with the ear of our hearts” as St Benedict encourages to listen. To listen for the deeper meaning within the words that come from the “Word made flesh”.
In the liturgy for the coming week we have plenty of opportunity to listen with our hearts to the words of scripture. Some of it we hear each and every year at this time, but some we only hear as it comes around in the three year cycle and I have included that which I shall be reading below for you to use as you feel able.
I am going to try to “livestream” some worship this week – details below with ways of connecting to it, but the internet is not for everyone, so I offer some thoughts for those of us who would prefer not to use it, but are missing our church connections.
I imagine that many of us have copies of the Bible and the Book of Common Prayer at home, perhaps it is one you inherited from mum or dad or a favourite aunt? Using the readings below spend a little time each day with me and the scriptures as I pray Morning Prayer at 10am and Celebrate Holy Communion on your behalf at 11am or at the other times in this Holy Week. During morning prayer I have taken to reciting “The Litany” as well as intercessions as I am moved. These ancient words have many parts and I am finding that they are truly expressing all I would wish to say to God at this time. It matters not if the words I say and those you say or read are different, the important thing is to be joined with God with His words on our hearts, allowing his Word to challenge and chide, to comfort and console us in this current time of trial.
In doing this we make present and real the Communion of Saints which we acknowledge and affirm each Sunday, we remember and connect with those of our loved ones who have died before us, those who have been taken during this pandemic and who we feel have been left to die alone. But this is not so. Jesus tells us that he prepares a place for us and that He will come and take us to Himself. He promised that He is always with us “to the very end of the age”. We are never alone, because Jesus fulfils this promise to each and every one of us and when our time comes, takes us to Himself. True, we may have been unable to be with our departed loved ones and that is something we will lament, but the Peace of God which passes all understanding, was there as He is now with us, joining us together in the Communion of Saints.
Sunday 29th March 2020 – Fifth Sunday of Lent
Romans 8.6-11 and John 11.1-45
‘Don’t it always seem to go, that you don’t know what you’ve got ‘till it’s gone’
Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi
This week has been a strange and difficult one in many ways. We have been asked to stay at home unless it is absolutely necessary; we are not travelling as much; we are either more alone that we have been used to, without the company of others that we enjoy, or we are in the company of others in a way we are not used to, which can be difficult. Sadly, home is not a safe place for everyone. Personally, I have had to come to terms with a new way of worshipping and taking funerals, which has been heart-breaking. We have been asked to lock our churches, so for a season do not have the solace of visiting the house of God.
Mary and Martha also had their world turned upside down. Like many in our own time (though for different reasons), the death of their brother would have meant financial hardship on a scale we could not imagine just a couple of weeks ago. Jesus would have known this, so why did he wait so long to go to them? The truth is that we can only guess at his reasons, but we can look at the consequences of them.
In the resurrection of Lazarus God is glorified. Both Mary and Martha confess and witness to Jesus being Lord and Messiah, their faith is an example even to the disciples, who seem to have trouble understanding what Jesus is trying to tell them. We have inherited this testimony, from those who were present at these events, to underpin our own faith in Jesus as our Saviour, triumphant over sin and death.
Jesus said to Martha, “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die, will live and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die.” John Chapter 11 Verse 20
These are among the words that I use to begin a funeral. One of our fears is that I will be saying them much more often in the coming weeks, but our familiarity with them masks the enormity of their meaning. In Jesus Christ we have a Saviour who has conquered death, which has traditionally been referred to as the wages of sin; he has demonstrated this to us firstly by raising Lazarus from the tomb, unbinding him from all that separated him from true life in Christ, and then by his own resurrection on that first Easter day. No longer do we have to fear – he even tells us “do not let your hearts be troubled, do not be afraid”. (John 14)
In these difficult times we are already seeing some are coming through the virus relatively unscathed, others’ lives are being changed dramatically and most likely for ever. We have some time yet before we will know the outcome for ourselves, our loved ones and our communities and this has the potential to unsettle us, but Jesus has given us a vision of what it will be like. We can take consolation from his assurance that we have nothing to fear. Because he remains the resurrection and the life, we will remain full of the life that we share with him whichever side of the grave we ultimately find ourselves on. In Christ we remain connected to all those we love, both in this world and the next.
For the time-being we have to let go of many things that are familiar to us, but we do this out of love. Keeping our distance from each other, and not using the facilities and buildings that we love to share are really all about that second commandment to love our neighbour as ourselves, and come as the result of the first, that we love God, giving back to him all that he has given us, not least of all, freedom from sin and death through faith.
Sunday 22nd March 2020 – Fourth Sunday of Lent
Mothering Sunday
13And now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love. 1 Corinthians 13 v 13
You may well have noticed that I very rarely deviate from the text chosen for the particular Sunday of the church year, but this week, while I have been reflecting on the situation in which we find ourselves, this chapter of St Paul’s letter to the Christians in Corinth has been much on my heart.
This week has been a rollercoaster of emotions and fears, there is a sense of loss that the things that we have become used to doing, and which help us understand who we are, are no longer possible for a while, we have had much less contact with other people and we do not know how long this will last. In the space of a week our world has been turned upside down.
People have reacted in many different ways, yes there has been anger, selfishness and greed, the very worst of the human condition, but there have also been wonderful examples of people serving and caring for each other. Banksy has created a beautiful image in the usual black and white, two windows, one above the other where the person in the top window passing down a bright red heart to the person in the lower window who is reaching up to catch it. They may be social distancing, but love is still passing between them.
St Paul, in Chapter 13 of his letter is encouraging those in Corinth, who themselves are facing difficult times, to remember the fruits of the spirit, the patience and kindness that we need to be a real community. These coming weeks and months will be difficult. We are likely to be spending more time with the people we love in a more confined space, we will not have the trips and activities which are our usual release valves for our frustrations. We will have much less to do.
I am praying, in church, from 10am each morning and celebrating the Eucharist on your behalf, I have circulate material that will enable you to join in with that Communion in a spiritual way, so please join me in Spirit, as we continue our journey together towards our ultimate Communion with God, bathed in Faith, Hope and most of all, Love.
Sunday 15thMarch 2020 – Third Sunday of Lent
Romans 5.1-11 and John 4.5-42
Bishop Peter is asking for prayers to be said during the outbreak of the new coronavirus, for those affected by it in any way. A prayer has been included below.
Bishop Peter said:“This is a time of great anxiety for many. We hope and pray that people’s fears won’t be realised. In prayer, we give our anxieties and our hopes to God, as we think of those affected by the virus and those treating them.”
Lord God, carer of all people, creator, sustainer and healer;
We pray for all who have contracted Covid-19. Be with them and their loved ones and bring healing to their bodies.
We pray for all medical staff and emergency services as they look after the physical health, worries and concerns of their patients, especially the vulnerable and particularly those who have reduced contact with the outside world. Let us be good neighbours, looking out and after each other.
We remember the work of scientists, discovering and testing vaccines for this disease, and we pray for all of us, caught up in our everyday lives with the effects of these outbreaks.
Bless your world Lord, and help us to be blessings to one another, in Jesus name. Amen
In the Coker Ridge Benefice we will not share the chalice at Holy Communion, we will not make physical contact during the peace, and the collection plate or bag will not be handed around, but placed where it can be seen and a retiring collection made, though direct debits from your bank to your church’s account would be even better. Please follow the general hygiene advice at the end of this sheet and keep an eye on each other. I expect we will have to make other changes at the right time.
Some may think the church is over-reacting, and that these precautions are unnecessary, but I hope we all recognise instead that we are following our Lord’s command to care for the vulnerable in our society. Anxiety and fear are just as much a part of the current situation as is the virus, and we need to manage them as much as our physical environment. If you are concerned about receiving Communion in one kind, please do not be. There have been many traditions followed in our churches surrounding the Eucharist over the last 2000 years and receiving both the bread and the wine at Communion is only one of them.
In the Book of Common Prayer, The Order for the Communion of the Sick explains in a rubric that if someone is physically incapable of receiving the bread or wine, but sincerely desires it, then ‘he doth eat and drink the Body and Blood of our Saviour Christ profitably to his Soul’s health, although he do not receive the Sacrament with his mouth’. This echoes words of St Thomas Aquinas (himself looking back to St Augustine) who wrote that ‘the effect of a sacrament can be secured if it is received by desire’ (Summa Theologiae : 59, 3a. 79–83).
If we desire the chalice, but cannot receive it, we receive it nonetheless by virtue of that desire.
Sunday 8thMarch 2020 – Second Sunday of Lent
John 3:16 “for God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in Him may not perish but may have eternal life”
I was once advised to learn by rote chapter 3 verse 16 in all the books of the bible so that I “would always have a piece of scripture to share with someone”. I didn’t actually do it, but the point is well made that there are connections within all of our scriptures that we need to be aware of, because they help us to understand more deeply the messages that we are being given.
Verses 14-16 of John chapter 3 need to be read with Numbers ch. 21: 5-8 in the background. These latter verses relate the time in the wilderness when the Israelites rebelled against Moses, complaining about their treatment, and were plagued by snakes, only to be saved after Moses had cast a snake of bronze and held it high upon a pole so that they could look to the image, believe in God’s promises and be saved.
The snake is an interesting image within many cultures. Some look upon it as a blessing, many – including the Judaeo-Christian tradition – often use it to represent evil, just look at the images of St Michael defeating the dragon that appear in our stained glass and art to see this. The snake in Numbers then represents that evil (of rebellion against God), for which we need God’s help to be able to defeat it.
Jesus brings this image into the new testament when he tells Nicodemus that the Son of Man must be lifted up so that all may be saved through Him. This does not mean that Jesus was evil and needed to be killed by God in some kind of vengeful act, but that God who is without evil, without sin, allowed the full force of evil to fall upon Himself in Christ, and through His death, defeat evil for ever. The only thing that has the power to achieve this is Love, and this idea is the origin of Mother Julian’s expression “Love was His meaning”.
The crucifixion is not evil getting the better of Jesus, but God redeeming it through the love that had him stay there on the cross when he could have come down. Like the bronze serpent lifted high in the wilderness, Jesus on the cross calls us to gaze upon Him, see the Love that hangs there, and allow the love that hangs there to draw us through the narrow gate to heaven, maybe even, sometimes, seeing glimpses of heaven here on earth.
Sunday 1stMarch 2020 – First Sunday of Lent
Romans 5.12 – 19 and Matthew 4.1-11
Matthew’s recollection of Jesus’ foray into the wilderness and being tempted by the Devil has much to say to us in our current world. A lot of the advertising we see in our papers and on television works on our fear. We are told that we need to have this insurance or that because if we do not have it either we are not providing for our families properly, or we will lose those things that we have worked so hard to acquire and we will be without.
Richard Rohr in his books, speaks of the true self and the false self. The true self is the one that was created by God and has a God given task to perform, this is the part of us created in the “image and likeness of God”. The false self, is the one that we have been taught to be by the world around us, the one that tells us that we need things, that we have a right to happiness, that I am entitled to what I want, this is the part of us that came about as the result of what is referred to as the “Fall”, our first rebellion against God in Genesis and you could call our Ego.
Lent is a time to reflect on the things that are really important to us and to God. Those things that should be most important are those that support the true self to do that which God created us for, the other things are those that the “false self” cries out for and draw us away from the close journey that God wants to share with us. This ‘false self’ is the one that Jesus refers to when he says “deny yourselves, pick up your cross daily and follow me” and we practice that self denial by fasting, prayer and study at a more dedicated level than usual. This is not easy, but by practising with small things, when the bigger more difficult things come along we will already be aware of how we can react.
The Christian journey is not an easy one, as silver is refined in the fire, so are we, in the trial and troubles of our earthly life, refined into our true selves, leaving the false self, the ego, behind. May your Lenten journey, though difficult, bear much fruit.