I teach at an Anglican school. Because of this, we have a formal eucharist once or twice a term. While my expression of faith is probably less traditional, there is always something beautiful about some of the liturgy. The truth captured in some of the collects and responsive readings really speak to me. My biggest challenge is always to look beyond “mode” of worship and see Jesus.
Yesterday, five of my matric boys (from my boarding house) were charged with reading John’s account of the passion. Each took a part and each read beautifully. The Word came alive to me. I was enthralled, again, by the cross: betrayal and love; the pain and freedom; the urgency and quiet surrender; the confusion and the peace.
The beautiful brutality of the cross, laid bare, in the words of God.
I was reminded of the power of God’s word to challenge, and cut, and change, and reveal.
I was reminded of Christ’s deep, unfailing love; displayed despite the greatest resistance.
I was reminded that sometimes victory looks very much like defeat.
I was reminded that, despite my very real and continuing wrestling with the nature of church; and my very real battle against my own cynicism; and my struggle with some church leaders, all of these pale into insignificance when one is confronted with the truth of the Gospel.
And, I was reminded that Easter is not a holiday. It is a celebration of love, but definitely not a holiday.
Read the account that moved me from John 18 & 19 here.