Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Holy Week. Show all posts

Friday, 22 March 2019

Lent Address 3: Jonah - 'In the murky depths'


Lent 2019

THE ADDRESS BEFORE COMPLINE

Week Three: Jonah 2 ‘In the murky depths’

THE BOOK OF JONAH

Chapter Two
Then Jonah prayed to the Lord his God from the belly of the fish, 2saying,
‘I called to the Lord out of my distress,
   and he answered me;
out of the belly of Sheol I cried,
   and you heard my voice.
3 You cast me into the deep,
   into the heart of the seas,
   and the flood surrounded me;
all your waves and your billows
   passed over me.
4 Then I said, “I am driven away
   from your sight;
how shall I look again
   upon your holy temple?”
5 The waters closed in over me;
   the deep surrounded me;
weeds were wrapped around my head
6   at the roots of the mountains.
I went down to the land
   whose bars closed upon me for ever;
yet you brought up my life from the Pit,
   O Lord my God.
7 As my life was ebbing away,
   I remembered the Lord;
and my prayer came to you,
   into your holy temple.
8 Those who worship vain idols
   forsake their true loyalty.
9 But I with the voice of thanksgiving
   will sacrifice to you;
what I have vowed I will pay.
   Deliverance belongs to the Lord!’
10Then the Lord spoke to the fish, and it spewed Jonah out upon the dry land.

Last week I suggested that the great fish that swallowed Jonah up as he plunged into the waters was something of a distraction to us. The imagery of Jonah and ‘the whale’ is good fun but is it much more than a jolly way for children to engage with a fantastical story? Well, yes, it is. There is so much more to the story of Jonah, and what we might learn of ourselves and of God through reading and meditating upon it.

The passage last week saw Jonah thrown overboard in an act of desperate propitiation, in the hope that it would calm the storm that had engulfed the mariners on the ship bound for Tarshish, on which Jonah had fled God’s call.

Now Jonah is in the belly of the great fish. And this is where we must consider the role of the fish and the sign that it is.

First the great fish is redemptive. After all, we read, “But the Lord provided a large fish to swallow up Jonah (3.17).” The fish is a sign of the redemptive love of God scooping up Jonah to give him security and protection. It is a sign that despite our disobedience, our failure to listen and be attentive to the ways of the Lord, God does not ever wish to see us drown or sink so far from his presence that there is no way back.

Secondly the great fish becomes the arena in which the sign the Jesus refers to as ‘the Sign of Jonah’ takes place. For as we the reading concluded last week, “Jonah was in the belly of the fish for three days and three nights.”

And that takes us to this evening. And it takes us to the heart of why Jonah is such a significant book for Lent. The time in the belly of the fish is the literary and spiritual heart of the narrative of the book. You can map out Lent, Holy Week and Easter onto this book.

Lent, a time of deep wrestling with God’s purposes in one’s life, interrogating what it is God really calls us to, endeavouring to be faithful to the call that God places upon us.

Holy Week, more specifically the Holy Three Days known as the Triduum Sacrum, Maundy Thursday, Good Friday and Holy Saturday, when we plunge into the depths with Christ and find that he is the redemptive source of love for us.

Easter, both the day itself and the Great Fifty Days that take us to Pentecost, is the time we have been drawn out of the waters and, like a fish flipping on the shore, have to learn to breathe in a new way, in a new environment of Life in the Spirit.

That last point is looking ahead to the remaining two addresses, but for tonight, we will focus on those Three Holy Days. What I will do now is reflect on those three days, weaving in - albeit out of order - words from this evening’s passage of Jonah.

Those Three Days are also sometimes known as the Paschal Triduum.

Paschal is a word that derives from ‘Passover’. It taps deep into the roots of God’s deliverance of his First-Called People, Israel. Maundy Thursday has strong Passover links and allusions as the blood of the Passover Lambs are marked on the doors of the Israelites as signs of protection, as Christ becomes the Passover Lamb, whose blood will be shed, delivered into the hands of the wicked.

9 But I with the voice of thanksgiving
   will sacrifice to you;
what I have vowed I will pay.
   Deliverance belongs to the Lord!’

Jesus’ agony in the Garden of Gethsemane that night mirrors Jonah’s prayer from the belly of the great fish. If you know the topography of Jerusalem this becomes even more obvious because Gethsemane is across the Kidron Valley from Jerusalem. Looking up and across the valley all one would see is the Temple. Jonah cries from the belly of the fish, and Jesus from Gethsemane:

4b how shall I look again
   upon your holy temple?”

7 As my life was ebbing away,
   I remembered the Lord;
and my prayer came to you,
   into your holy temple.

Speaking of his own body, tying in with the significant three days, Jesus says, ‘Destroy this temple and in three days I will raise it up’ (John 2.19)

You’ll remember that the deliverance of the people of Israel was through water; the water of the Red Sea. It is little wonder that the Early Church teachers connect the deliverance from slavery that God wrought in the Exodus from Egypt with the deliverance from sin that God effects in the waters of baptism.

Furthermore on Maundy Thursday there is the washing of the disciples feet recorded by St John (John 13.1-11). The footwashing signifies acts of loving service in Christ’s name and also the need for cleansing through the washing away of sin. Even if our whole body is clean through baptism, which it is, still we pick up dirt on our feet, which will washing away; a pointer to the need to be reconciled with God and neighbour through confessing our sins.

And Jonah’s words may be read in that way, as a testimony of reconciliation. Notably also this is the first time in the Jonah narrative that Jonah has ‘owned’ God, as in understanding God to be his Lord and not simply a remote deity.

Through the Incarnation God is not remote from our experience. In Gethsemane we are drawn closer into Jesus’ prayer to the Father, with whom he is absolutely one in the power of the Holy Spirit.

6b I went down to the land
   whose bars closed upon me for ever;
yet you brought up my life from the Pit,
   O Lord my God.

Jonah’s prayer speaks of the abandonment of Good Friday and the depths of the experience of isolation which Christ went through in his redemptive love:

            4 Then I said, “I am driven away
   from your sight;
how shall I look again
   upon your holy temple?”
5 The waters closed in over me;
   the deep surrounded me;
weeds were wrapped around my head
            6   at the roots of the mountains.

Strong echoes there of Jesus’ words of desolation from the cross ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’ (Psalm 22.1). Those words of desolation and abandonment also bespeak an intimate relationship. Yet Jesus dies on the cross. He has plunged the very depths for us and with us, and this is where the great fish becomes the sign of resurrection. As Jonah says,

6b I went down to the land
   whose bars closed upon me for ever;
yet you brought up my life from the Pit,
   O Lord my God.
7 As my life was ebbing away,
   I remembered the Lord;
and my prayer came to you,
   into your holy temple.

That land ‘whose bars closed upon me for ever’ is, without doubt, death. That is one of the great mysteries and questions we feel bound to ask. What happened to Jesus when he died? At what moment did he rise again? There are different ways of accounting for it, but actually it is something about which the gospels remain resolutely silent. There is only one hint of an answer in the New Testament that might address our curiosity, from the first letter of Peter:

“For Christ also suffered for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, in order to bring you to God. He was put to death in the flesh, but made alive in the spirit, in which also he went and made a proclamation to the spirits in prison, who in former times did not obey, when God waited patiently in the days of Noah, during the building of the ark, in which a few, that is, eight people, were saved through water”. (1 Peter 3.18-20)

That is often known as the Harrowing of Hell, the notion that Christ descended to the depths to raise up those who, chronologically, could never have called upon him. It’s articulated in the Apostles’ Creed in which we proclaim that Jesus ‘was crucified, dead and buried and buried. He descended into hell. And the third day he rose again’. That is our dogmatic proclamation of the Sign of Jonah.

So the great fish swallowed up Jonah and took him into the deeps. This redemptive action is redolent of Christ’s redemptive death and the significance of the Three Days. ‘And on the third day he rose again’ (Nicene Creed).

Little wonder then that this plunge into waters to be raised to new life and, as the book of Jonah puts it, ‘spewed onto the beach’ has been associated with the death and resurrection of Christ and our own experience of baptism and life beyond it.

It’s rather galling, but everything I have tried to say tonight is expressed rather more pithily by St Paul in his letter to the Romans:

“Therefore we have been buried with [Christ] by baptism into death, so that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, so we too might walk in newness of life”. (Romans 6.4)

Recommended further reading:
Paul Murray, A Journey with Jonah: The Spirituality of Bewilderment. Dublin: Columba Press, 2002.
(A limited number of copies are available to borrow, or buy second hand, from the Minster.)


Monday, 19 March 2018

Passion Sunday: Show me things I've never seen before


First preached as sermon at Guildford Cathedral on the Fifth Sunday of Lent, Passion Sunday, 2018.
Gospel reading: John 12.20-33

‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus’ (John 12.21).

'What do you see?'
Many people are familiar with a trip to the optician. Famously on the wall there are letters of ever decreasing sizes to test your sight. But we know that sight does not always equate to vision and seeing things on a deep level.

Seeing, recognising and believing are constant themes throughout St John’s gospel.

The climax of the Prologue to St John’s Gospel, speaks of the Word being made flesh, Jesus Christ, who dwelt among us ‘and we have seen his glory’. John continues ‘No one has ever seen God. It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father who has made him known’. (John 1.14, 18).

John also deals in signs, visual pointers to the profound truth of Jesus Christ’s mission and purpose. Famously he records seven signs – a perfect number – and says there were many more: water changed into wine (John 2.1-11) showing the coming hour of transformation in Jesus Christ; the healings of the royal official's son in Capernaum (John 4:46-54) and the paralysed man at Bethesda (John 5:1-15); the multiplication of loaves and fishes to feed the five thousand (John 6:5-14); Jesus walking on water (John 6:16-24); and the raising of Lazarus (John 11:1-45). All signs to be seen to point to Jesus’ divine power. They ask us, ‘now do you see?’

The remaining sign is of the man born blind whose sight is restored such that he can see who Jesus really is (John 9:1-7). The story culminates in Jesus speaking to the man whose sight has been restored saying,

‘Do you believe in the Son of Man? He answered, ‘And who is he, sir? Tell me, so that I may believe in him.’ Jesus said to him, ‘You have seen him, and the one speaking with you is he.’ He said, ‘Lord, I believe.’ And he worshipped him. (cf John 9.35b-41)

Seeing in John’s Gospel is far more than a visual reception of data and a function of the retina; this seeing is seeing with the eye of the heart. What I coin deep-sightedness.

It is this sort of seeing that Mary Magdalene has when at first she fails to recognise Jesus through her tears on the Day of Resurrection but on hearing Christ speaks her name she sees, as says ‘Rabbouni, teacher’ (John 20.1-18). And Mary Magdalene the first missionary, the Apostle to the Apostles, proclaimed, ‘I have seen the Lord’ (John 20.18).

The apostle Thomas sees with his eyes but not with his heart, and he seeks visual evidence of Jesus’ resurrection: but then a moment of recognition comes and he says ‘My Lord and my God’ (John 20.24-29).

***

So, those Greeks appear saying to Philip, ‘Sir we would see Jesus’. Well, what have they come to see? What do we see in Jesus? What does their question demand of us if we place ourselves in the shoes of Philip the disciple when someone else says to you, ‘I want to see Jesus? There is a missional edge to their request.

Quite what the Greeks made of their seeing Jesus, history does not relate. It is in St Mark’s gospel that the centurion gazes at the Son of Man, Jesus Christ, on the cross and declares, ‘Truly this is God’s son’. Many did see and believed; many saw Jesus and saw nothing beyond.

‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus’. This notion of seeing is important. The Greeks arrive to see Jesus, and their own mother tongue, Greek, has a variety of words that mean ‘to see’.

Their request to see could be from scorpion from which we get the word ‘scope’, as in telescope and microscope. Were they scoping Jesus? Getting the measure of him? Assessing what it would mean to follow him?

‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus’. It could be, that far from be intrigued and seeing Jesus to get the measure of him, that there was a different edge. Their request ‘to see’ could be another Greek word sképtesthai from which we get the word ‘sceptic’. It was true then, as it is now, that there are sceptics about who Jesus Christ is. They may want to be entertained or to dismiss, as in Herod’s request to see Jesus (Luke 9.9). Sometimes, though, even scepticism can lead people on the journey of encounter with him; that’s true even today of people who come to see Jesus sceptically and find their lives turned around by him. When Jesus encounters two of John the Baptist’s slightly sceptical disciples he says, ‘Come and see’ (John 1.39)

‘Sir, we wish to see Jesus’. The word John’s gospel actually uses is idein which means ‘to see’, in the sense of ‘to visit’ or ‘to meet with’. But it can also mean, in the context of John’s gospel, ‘to believe in’. ‘Sir’, they could be saying to Philip, ‘we wish to believe in Jesus’.

In meeting them Jesus he doesn’t say, “well, here I am have a good look”. Rather he unveils what is hinted at in the Prologue to John – and we have seen his glory –as Jesus declares that now his hour has come. And what will be seen is his glorification, the glorification of the cross, when he is lifted up from the earth.

Window in Guildford Cathedral - South Aisle
In the wilderness the Israelites who were being infested by poisonous serpents could be cured by looking at a pole erected by Moses (it features in the window on the south side of the Cathedral nave). Therein lay their healing and restoration. The cross is the new sign to be gazed upon for salvation. That is the image Jesus is drawing upon as he speaks of the Son of Man lifted up. (cf also John 3.14-21)

This takes us to Good Friday and the Proclamation of the Cross and we hear the haunting verse of Lamentations, ‘Is it nothing to you all you who pass by. Look and see if there is any sorrow like my sorrow’ (Lamentations 1.12a). We hear that as we gaze upon the stark wood of the cross. Not just a bit of carpentry but the sign of our hope and salvation.

It is this deep-sightedness that enables St John Chrysostom to say of Jesus on the cross: ‘I see him crucified; I call him King’.

***

Today is Passion Sunday. It is the day in the Church’s year, before the intensity and drama of Holy Week, on which we begin to contemplate more intensely what we see in the glorification of Jesus Christ and ‘behold the wood of the cross, whereon was hung the Saviour of the world’, as the Good Friday liturgy puts it.

As the time of his Passion draws near may we consider how we see Jesus Christ, and behold God in all people, moments and things. Passion Sunday is a spiritual optician’s check-up (from another Greek word optikos "of or having to do with sight and seeing’).

My prayer is that believer and enquirer alike may cry out to the Lord: ‘I wish to see Jesus: show me things I’ve never seen before’. Amen.

© Andrew Bishop, 2018