Happy Easter! Welcome to the April edition of the #Meltham Parish magazine. This month it is full of the joys of Easter! Read about the Real Love project and the giving away of hearts and finding pebbles throughout this edition. Also find out more about the new additions to the Crossroads team or how Jill has been keeping busy during lockdown.
Christians in #Meltham have been busy making hearts – 1000 of them! The task brought out hidden talents and developed a real sense of joy and fellowship. Church members have delivered the first batch of Easter Hearts to the three schools in Meltham with this message:
Covid-19 has touched communities all over the world. There has been heart-breaking loss of life and disruption to every sphere of life. We have also experienced the very best: the courage and sacrifice of NHS and social care workers, the emergency services, and key workers; the hard work of teachers preparing lessons online and teaching children who have had to come into school; the pressure on parents to home school and find ways to care for their children, the friendships children have had to put on hold as they have been unable to leave their homes.
These Hearts are firstly a gift from Christians in Meltham to say thanks to the Teachers for battling with remote learning, teaching in bubbles caring for children of key workers and many more unsung tasks. To parents, carers, and children who have done their best in such a challenging situation. They recognise the love of all involved. We want you to know that you are valued and appreciated.
Secondly the Hearts are a reminder that at this time, we remember the Easter story – that God’s love is so amazing. He came to earth in Jesus, loved and lived among us. He understands what life is like. On Good Friday, Jesus died for our sins. Past mistakes, decisions and failures can be put right.
There’s hope! The message of Easter is that death is not the end. There are new beginnings. In these challenging times, we are not alone. We love because Jesus first loved us.
The Hearts remind us of real love. What are you to do with the Hearts?
The Hearts in the cellophane bags are for the children to take home to give to their parents or Carers simply to say “Thank You! for caring – you are special ”
The Hearts in the organza bags are to staff recognising all that has been done to say “Thank You! for caring – you are special”
Please join in the attached prayer throughout this week and on the day for the:-
National Day of Reflection on 23rd March
God of love,
as we think about all that has changed this year,
Help us to trust that you are always with us.
As we remember those who have died,
Help us to trust they are at peace with you.
As we reach out to others with kindness and care,
May hope shine out in every heart and home.
Amen
This week we are coming to the end of the weeks of Lent. Each of those weeks we have focused our attention on one of the lesser reported characters who followed Jesus during His ministry. Rosemary Powers chose thirteen Figures leaving us with six stories untold as we journeyed through Lent. Rosemary’s style of writing has brought life to those she chose to pick out for attention.
I found it difficult to know who to choose for our Reflection. All the stories carry their own weight in the bigger picture of the Passion of our Lord. It feels incomplete leaving these stories untold.
I made my choice after reading through all the reflections trying to balance the stories, we have used so far.
This Week we hear from the sixth Character Mary of Bethany. The following Monday is the start of Holy Week when we hear from Mary of Magdala. Both Marys remained at the cross to the bitter end.
LENTEN REFLECTIONS —WEEK 6
Mary of Bethany
Mary of
Bethany
I am Mary from Bethany, disciple of Jesus, widow, sister of Martha. He came to our home, where I learnt, and he loved us as his sisters, and Lazarus as a brother. Lazarus, our protector in the world of the village and beyond, got ill. He died. Our grief was deep. Our livelihood, the home of hospitality that my sister Martha had made a place of warmth and greeting, was at risk. She, whose heart was big, big enough even to accept in Jesus his wish that I should be taught with the men, she was in danger of being homeless, of having nowhere to exercise her gift, her insight into the needs of all. We might end with nothing but the widow’s mite, at the mercy of distant relatives with their own burdens.
It was a big funeral, close to the centre of power. Jesus’ fate was sealed when love triumphed. He’d come late. I was angry with him. Martha went to meet him. He spoke with her, then asked for me, his disciple who had sat at his feet and listened but had not yet understood. I was full of grief, bewilderment, but I went to him as ever, to sit at his feet, still his disciple in my pain. This time there were witnesses, not only his friends, but others, fellow-mourners, who followed me when I went, to support me at the tomb. And stayed when they found Jesus before us. Jesus who wept with us. He came to the tomb with us. Then he prayed. Martha was practical as ever, but we waited. And wondered. And heard the stirrings of hope and unbound the impossible joy.
I’d heard of what happened in the house of the Pharisee, and when our own Simon gave a party, I copied the woman there, and made it my own. As he took it like a tune and made it his own in turn. I touched the beloved, anointed him, as the week before we had readied our brother for the tomb. No touch was unclean to him. The scent filled the air. My tears were for him, for the thunder was in the air.
We found that time, that opposition was there, even among his friends at the party. ‘Let her alone,’ he said. I, the younger sister, was honoured there, prophet and priest of the Christ who knew no boundaries among those called into being out of love.
We were all in danger, so close to the places of power. The one he called back from the grave we hid away so he would not be killed. They got Jesus though. A few days later he honoured the woman without name. He washed his own followers’ feet. There was no role he would not take. Later that night, he was turned in.
We give thanks …
For those whose mourning has turned into joy, for the return of the lost, for love recognised.
For the joy of company among outcast, traveller, resident and wanderer, and for the gift of hospitality at the heart of our faith.
For the gift of wonder, of companionship with the God who has given us everything, who came into the world and allowed the people he created to show him the next step.
We pray …
For those who grieve, and especially when death strikes before its time. For those who see the pain of others and cannot help, that they may have the grace of being present, and setting their needs and fears aside.
For those who risk loss in the face of hostility. For those whose homes, livelihoods and safety is at stake.
For the courage to be disciples, learning and listening from Jesus and acting prophetically, in the right time and place; to be courageous in Christ when we meet opposition.
We pray for the gift to draw back from using power against those who are vulnerable in our world.
During the period of Lent, Rev’d John is encouraging us to think about fellowship. This week we will be thinking about GROWTH. You can watch the fifth of these reflections by Rev John using this YouTube link: https://youtu.be/A3zhMw9o7Wo
Although we can’t all physically meet together currently, you’re welcome to join us on Sunday Evening at 6pm to virtually meet together on Zoom to reflect, pray, share thoughts, and ask questions. You can join via the link below:
Join us in church or online via YouTube for our Parish Communion Service for Passion Sunday. We hope to livestream the service from 9:30am via this link: https://youtu.be/6PXbp9ojmes
The technical issues from last week are hopefully now resolved following some troubleshooting. However, there are many variables which can influence the success of such things! If we experience issues, then the service may need to be published via a different link. Any link updates will appear on the Parish YouTube channel which can be found via this link:
Today we are greeted by the author of the letter from Jude. His letter comes just before the book of Revelations. He describes himself as a slave of Jesus and a brother of James. He writes to all who have been called by God the Father, who loves us, and keeps us safe in the care of Jesus Christ. In his short letter He warns the church of false Prophets, gives a call to remain faithful, and ends with a prayer of praise.
Doxology comes at the end of Jude’s letter which is widely used by the church today
24 To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— 25 to the only God our Saviour be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen.
Opening Prayer
Lent is a time to learn to travel
Light, to clear the clutter
From our crowded lives and
Find a space, a desert.
deserts are bleak; no creature-
comforts, only a vast expanse of
Stillness, sharpening awareness of
Ourselves and God
Uncomfortable places, deserts.
Most of the time we’re tempted to
Avoid them, finding good reason to
Live lives of ease; cushioned by
Noise from self-discovery.
Clutching at world’s success
To stave off fear.
But if we dare to trust the silence
To strip away our false security,
God can begin to grow his wholeness in us,
Fill up our emptiness, destroy our fears,
Give us new vision, courage for the journey,
And make our desert blossom like a rose.
From – ‘Waiting for the Kingfisher’ – Ann Lewin
Jude the Obscure ( John 14:22–27)
I am Jude the Apostle, sometimes called Thaddeus, in tradition the patron of lost causes.
What did I do? Follow a call and wander the roads, learning and laughing, loving and returning to the one who taught us of God in all creation.
We were sent out, full of the stories of Jesus, the teachings; learning our trade; depending on the hospitality of the poor and of clement weather for nights in the open and empty bellies when this failed. I was one of the group who clung to him, serving, stewarding, distributing food, helping the sick through the crowd. Me and my namesake among the Twelve Men. What else? One night, I asked a question.
‘Do you intend to reveal yourself only to us and not to the world? Are we a special group with special knowledge, private joys beyond the grave?’ It was the answer that mattered. Jesus turned the question as usual, told us that he would be revealed through us, how we lived, how we related, how we served. That it would be lifelong learning, but the Spirit, the Advocate, would come to help us witness, in our work and speech. The Advocate would help us remember, teach us the depth of what Jesus had said and done. And that this would bring us the peace he gave as his parting gift. We had to live it out to understand it. Our work-life balance would ensure it.
I ate the meal and added my voice to the Psalm. I ran away when the going got rough that night. I was there, later, in that upper room where the stories of the women turned into a reality beyond possibility, that changed us forever. When the command to love each other led to the years of learning to do that, with those we agreed with, those in conflict. When the wound of Judas slowly filled with the peace beyond understanding, that some things are in the careful hands that will one day draw us home.
I was there at Pentecost when the Advocate came to answer my question. I was doing my work, telling the wonder. Later still, they put my name to a Letter – stand firm, I urged, keep faith in Christ, don’t be led astray. Be brave, as once I was not. Years later, the choice came again.
I did not dare be crucified with you for if you looked on me with eyes of love, where could I go?
And if you looked on me with eyes in pain how could I bear to know that my short suffering was always yours, and that you felt the mocking just as keen as years ahead, when on a different cross you heard denial in small-hearted folk whose sounds pursue you down eternal years in other choice and story, each one ours.
I did not dare be crucified with you but later when you looked on me with love I did not go but waiting bore the look of you who writhe upon a thousand crosses every day and bleed each second till the end of time.
We give thanks …
For those who serve in silence, and whom we often overlook.
For those who work in the unknown places of the world, calling us to stand firm and hold to eternal truths and the dignity of each person.
For those with the ‘wrong’ names, skin colour, abilities, gender, who live out their calling to the full.
We pray …
For the people, and peoples, of the world whom we forget when they are not news, for all the suffering we overlook in obscure places not considered worth reporting. We name them as we can …
For causes that seem lost, for climate change so long denied and now causing ever more suffering, especially among the most vulnerable.
For the hidden numbers who have died obscure on their travels across desert and sea, seeking to reach Europe and the hope of a better, safer, more constructive life. For the families left behind who may never know their story.
For the rescue workers and volunteers and their funders who seek to save people in danger and honour the dead. For all who are at risk, and those who carry the burden of failed risk.