Bible

The ‘Mary, at your feet’ poems – Two

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Lazarus

Lazarus, by Jacquie Binns, with her permission.

We come to the second in the ‘Mary, at your feet’ sequence.  This, too, was read at the Alive festival, 2014.  It contains a bigger reversal than a poem can hold – from death to life, for it draws on Mary’s response to the death and raising of her brother Lazarus.

Martha went out to meet Jesus when he finally arrived, and their exchange is sorrowful and powerful and contains words of life and hope.  Mary stays inside, and when she finally goes to Jesus, we feel the depth of their mutual grief. In John’s gospel, where we find this account, the raising of Lazarus plays a crucial role in the events that lead to the crucifixion – the themes of death and life, life from death sound like a returning motif in a piece of music. Here, standing by Lazarus’ tomb, Jesus weeps with Mary, in the company of many who also grieve there.  And then, everything changes.

I am very grateful to Jacquie Binns for permission to use this photograph of her work. She is a textile artist and sculptor of rare vision, and it was an honour to meet her a few years ago, when I saw this piece. It is haunting and breathtaking.  I was particularly struck by the whiteness of the bindings, the light and whiteness seem so cold.  The set plaster holds the fabric grave-clothes in this one moment when the viewer sees Larazus for the first time, before we begin to know the power of what it is we see.

You can read the first poem in this sequence here.

 

Mary, sister of Lazarus, at your feet a second time

She sits in the shuttered room,
the room where her brother had laid,
dying, dead, the messengers sent out
returning empty, with no reply,
like prayers that bounce  off ceilings
or stick to the roof of the mouth,
choking with sorrow.
When you stay by the Jordan
that shuttered room is where Mary stays.

This is her shadowed valley, the dark forest of her path,
foreshadowing yours, it is all foreshadowing you.
The room where her brother had laid,

how can she ever leave it now?

But leave she did, at last, when you called for her,
she came quickly, running, trailing darkness behind
her weeping.  Mary, once more at your feet,
and when you saw her weeping, you wept too.

You know us in our grief.  You come to us, call to us.
In our darkest, most shuttered places,
your spirit moves, breaks with ours.
Death lay heavy upon you, too, and all the sooner for
this, what you do now, standing before that tomb.

For now, you who are Life,
Word made warm and beating flesh,
and weeping,
call Lazarus out,
You, who are life, and will rise,
call out one who is dead from the cold tomb.
You watch as they run to free him from the graveclothes,
pull darkness from him, calling in strange bewildered delight,
and you see Mary’s face as she sees now,
her brother, who was dead, once more in light,
astonished, seeing your glory, part of your glory,
as she weeps again, is weeping again
breathless with joy.

 

John 11:1-50

You can read the third poem here

 

 

The Spirit Comes

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We celebrate Pentecost this weekend, and the story continues its extraordinary movement outwards.  Last week, it was Ascension, when the disciples were still thinking in terms of their own people, and Jesus showed them an ever widening perspective (Acts 1:6-8).
Now, we see how God continues to open and include.  It seems that all those gathered together (1:14-15) were part of the great outpouring of the Spirit, and the impact on the listeners suggests God was at work beyond even those.  The barriers between us of race, gender, nationality, language, youth and age, are being broken down, moving us towards a deep unity (Col 1:17, Gal 3:28). No wonder the whole house was filled with a great sound! This is powerful and much needed work.

We notice how the barrier of language is overcome.  We notice that God’s priority is not to change the listeners so they can understand, but change the words (and the speakers) so people can hear – directly, in a way that makes sense to them as they are.
The words are an overflow of joy.

Below is my version of the story, from The Bible Story Retold

If you wish to use it this weekend, please do, saying where it is from.  I hope it helps.

 

From the fields it came: the first sheaf of barley cut for that year’s harvest.  It was carried high through streets crammed with visitors, and on to the Temple. And then the priest offered it to God, giving thanks for the good land, and for the gift of harvest. For that day was the celebration of the first fruits.  It was Pentecost.

Meanwhile, the disciples were all together, waiting.  Then, suddenly, it began.  It stared with sound – a sound like the wind – but this was no gentle harvest breeze.  This was a shaking and a roaring: a sound of power, whooshing and howling about the house, rattling every door and shutter.  The sound seemed to come down from heaven itself, and filled the house as the wind fills sails.  Then, the disciples watched wide-eyed as something that looked like fire came down, and tongues of flame peeled off it and rested on each of them without burning them.  All of them were filled, for the Holy Spirit had come.  And as it happened, their tongues were loosened, and they began to speak as the Spirit gave them words.  These words were not Aramaic, their own language, but in languages that were unknown to them.
A crowd had gathered by the house because of the extraordinary sound, but then they heard voices. There were pilgrims in Jerusalem from all over the known world, and they recognized the words the disciples were speaking.
“He’s talking Egyptian!” said one.
“That one’s talking my language,” said a visitor from Crete – and the same was true for all.  Each person heard God’s praises in their own tongue.
“What can it mean?” they asked each other.  But others among the crowd joked that the disciples had been drinking.
The Twelve heard what they were saying, so Simon Peter stood up to speak to the crowds.
“Listen, I’ll tell you what’s happening.  We’re not drunk! It’s too early in the day for that! This is God’s promise come true.  Do you remember what one of the prophets wrote long ago?
I’ll pour out my Spirit on everyone – young and old.
Your sons and daughters will prophesy,
young men will have visions, and old men dreams.
All who follow me – men and women – will
be given my Spirit, and there will be wonders!

Bless you this weekend, and always.

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Seeing what the Father does

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bible retold cover

One of this Sunday’s readings is an account of a healing, stopping short of the controversy that follows.  Retellings have to be more concise, so my version below sketches it out – another example of people missing the point.  The religious leaders were so concerned about policing sabbath observance, making sure law was kept, that they overlooked the astonishing things that were right before their eyes –  healing, and mercy.
What Jesus says in response outrages his listeners, and as we reach the end of the exchange we come to one of those extraordinary phrases of Jesus that stop you short, and stay with you, changing the way you see things.
He is doing what he sees the father do…
If we pay attention to what Jesus does, we might learn something of God’s heart.
It’s helpful to remember that the Greek word we translate disciple – mathetes – means both pupil and apprentice.  I am drawn to the idea of apprenticeship – of watching and making fumbling first attempts to imitate.  It is an adventure, and I am still working out what it means.
(John 5).

The extract below is from my retelling, The Bible Story Retold, published by Lion.  Also available here and your local bookshop.

One sabbath, Jesus was in Jerusalem.  He came to the pool of Bethesda, which means “House of Mercy”.  The pool, with its steep steps, was surrounded by covered colonnades. Under their shade lay many who were sick, waiting to enter the water when it welled up, for they believed that the water could heal them.  Jesus went and sat down by one man, and asked him “Do you want to be healed?”
“Sir, there’s no one to help me down into the pool.  I’ve been an invalid for 38 years.  How can I reach the water?”
So Jesus said, “Just get up! Take your mat and walk away!” – and he did so.
Some teachers of the Law stopped him. “What do you think you’re doing, carrying a mat on the sabbath?  Don’t you know that’s work, and forbidden?” And the man told them what had happened.  How angry they were at Jesus – a sabbath-breaker, they called him.
“My Father is always at work, so I, too, am working!” Jesus said.  The teachers of the Law gasped, shocked.  He was talking as if he were God’s equal!
“I don’t do anything by myself,” Jesus went on. “I see what my Father is doing and do the same!”

I hope it helps.  If you wish to use this reading, please say where it is from.

The Spirit and the Centurion

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Today’s reading (Acts 10) is strange and beautiful.  It is no accident we start with an account of Cornelius the Centurion’s vision – we see first that God is at work among people considered outsiders, people who did not follow the rules.  It is after the angel appears to the Roman that Peter has his vision, and that vision challenges his idea of the centrality of the Law. To begin with, he saw a temptation to be resisted.  It took time to see that God was inviting him to a more inclusive, more generous understanding.  God is expanding the categories, again and again.  The Spirit is moving, freely.  It was hard for Peter to keep up – but he sees what God is doing, and his response, in the end, is to accept these new brothers and sisters.

The extract is from The Bible Story Retold
If you would like to use it, please feel free, mentioning the source.

Cornelius the centurion had been watching the galleons sail in and out of the white marble port of Caesarea.  Every day these great ships came and went, to and from the rest of the wide Roman empire.  He and his family did not follow the Roman gods or Roman ways.  They were faithful, prayerful, and generous to the poor.  As Cornelius turned away from the bright sunlight, he saw something even more dazzling – a vision of an angel.  The vision spoke.
“Your prayers and gifts to the poor have come before God as an offering.  Send men to Joppa and tell them to bring back someone called Simon Peter.  He is staying at the home of Simon the tanner, who lives by the sea.”
Cornelius did just that.
As his men were approaching Joppa, Simon Peter the fisherman was praying on the flat roof.  There he had a vision. He saw a huge white sheet let down before him.  Inside it were all kinds of animals that the Law of Moses said not to eat.
“You’re hungry, so eat!” said a voice.
“No!” Simon Peter replied. “I’ve never eaten anything unclean in my life!”
This happened three times, and each time the voice answered
“Don’t call anything unclean that God calls clean!”
Just then Cornelius’s men arrived, asking for Simon Peter, and the voice said, “I’ve sent men to find you.  Just go with them, don’t hesitate!” So he went with them.
When Simon Peter went into Cornelius’ house, it was the first time he had entered the home of a Gentile, a non-Jew, where “unclean” food was served, and the Law of Moses was not followed.
“Why did you want to see me?” Simon Peter asked, looking around at the crowd of family and friends Cornelius had invited.  Then Cornelius told him the vision of the angel.
“So it’s true! God really has no favourites,” Simon Peter replied. “He wants everyone to follow him!” And he began to tell them about Jesus.
While he was still speaking, the Holy Spirit came, filling Cornelius, his friends and family with joy, and they spoke in different tongues as the disciples had at Pentecost.  Simon Peter and the other Jews who had come with him were stunned that God had given the same gift to the Gentiles.  And Simon Peter baptized them. “God accepts them, and so will we!” he said.