Topic: Prayer and Worship

Today we enter into the first full week of Lent; but, to cheer myself up, I like to think of this as the start of week 2.  We have already passed the first Sunday in Lent – only 5 more Sundays to go, and then it will be Easter Day.  But Lent cannot be rushed as a season.  There is a natural modest pace to these weeks.  At times when we are tempted to forsake our Lenten discipline, it will feel time is moving very slowly.  We have to be patient.  I planted a new shrub some months ago, and was delighted to see the first tiny leaves showing themselves over this weekend.  I mustn’t prune the shrub now, or it might die.  Let the plant grow; then prune; then it will flourish.

So perhaps this is a week to be patient.  But I still feel excited about having begun Lent.  I know my disciplines will be hard work to maintain for “40 days”, but new possibilities will open up.  I was much encouraged to hear a consistent message from the pulpits on Ash Wednesday and yesterday – all of which were pointing us towards Easter as the fruit of this current season.  Indeed, Martin gives the same message, in terms of music, as he closes some of the great Lenten hymns by playing the final chord in the major key (rather than the Lenten minor key).

However much we focus on Easter as the ultimate goal, we are not there yet.  There is a helpful analogy which likens our narrative with a Shakespearean 5 act play.  In the human journey with God, Act 1 is about setting the scene, describing the characters, the time of creation.  Act 2 is when things begin to go awry.  Act 3 is the pivotal moment – for Christians, this is the time of the Messiah who initiates the “turn-around”. Act 5 will be the glorious culmination; prophets and seers are able to remind us that God will resolve, redeem and finally settle all troubles – AT THE END.  However, we dwell in Act 4, and need to be patient in letting this Act work itself out.  The dynamics of redemption take time.  We make mistakes if either we see ourselves as dwelling in the end time (Act 5), or if we see ourselves as the ones bringing about redemption (we take on a Messianic role which does not belong to us, but is Christ’s alone in Act 3).

The path up the hillside is usually the path of least gradient, as the sheep, say, have learnt slowly to climb to the top.  We know that this may be a longer walk, but we can arrive at the top, undefeated, not too exhausted and ready to take pleasure in the new view.

So, now is the time to get into our Lenten stride and enjoy week 2.

So Lent begins today: 40 days leading towards Easter of discipline.  All three parts of that phrase are important.

40 days: I’ve never been quite sure which 40 days are included in Lent.  Some say these are all the days between Ash Wednesday and Palm Sunday – and so Holy Week, an important mini season in its own right, is not part of Lent.  Emphasising the special significance of Holy Week is good.  Others say that the 40 days are all the non-Sundays between Ash Wednesday and Easter.  Sundays are excluded as they are by their very nature days of Resurrection.  Actually, I’ve always thought that Lent stretches from today till Easter Day – and not bothered too much about counting 40 exactly.  That seems important because Lent should not be approached with the attitude of box-ticking. If we only count the days until we can resume our bad habits after Easter, then we are so much missing the point.  “40 days” occurs many times in the Bible to signify a significant period that is set apart for God.  The rain causes the flood in the Noah story – a real drenching, like standing under a shower to get well and truly soaked.  I am sure God could have caused the flood in quicker time than that – but the 40 days of rain indicate that God is fully wiping away the sin.  Equally, Moses is on Mount Sinai for 40 days, as is Jesus in the wilderness – writing the Law, preparing for a lifetime of ministry, both take time.  Some things cannot be rushed and need “dwelling time”.

Towards Easter: we dwell in God’s presence for this season so that the roots of new life, promised at Easter, can become well established in our hearts, bodies and souls.  Lent needs to be lived forwards as the season from which we will emerge bearing new hope, confident of living in new ways.  Does your Lenten discipline have that focus this year?

Discipline:  the trainer who ran the Puppy Classes I attended recently said “Bad habits are hard to break; good habits are hard to lose”.  I love that encouragement that, once good habits are truly embedded in our behaviour, they can be very hard to break.  The example I used today in a school assembly was this: imagine that you don’t get on with your younger brother.  Try to love him for one day, and by the end of the next day you will be shouting at him again.  But take on the discipline of bearing with him patiently for 40 days, and you will establish a habit of looking at him in a good light.  Not only will this habit be good in itself, but also you may find that you start really to like him.  We can take on disciplines for one reason, only to find that an unexpected harvest follows.

We should not take the words of some hymns too seriously. Their tunes may be great, but the words, written in a previous age, may not express the truth as we see it now.  I love singing “Once in Royal David’s city”, but I find it hard to sing with complete conviction the lines at the end of verse 3:

Christian children all must be

mild, obedient, good as he.


There’s no point in correcting the words of all hymns which we find objectionable – few would survive, unamended.  We just need to have the attitude that accepts that a hymn which is “a good sing” does not necessarily express accurately and precisely what we believe.

But the opposite happened to me on Sunday evening.  At Evensong, we were singing a 17^thcentury hymn “How shall I sing that majesty”. I love it, partly because the tune we use is so wonderful.  As we began singing it, I knew that a verse refers to us being part of the “celestial choir” (not quite how I see myself), and later asks God to ‘send a sunbeam on me’! But suddenly I found myself singing a line that I had not noticed before – and which conveyed an aspect of the truth that we often miss.  The line is “where heaven is but once begun”.

That is a powerful image: that heaven is something that happens, that begins… and therefore that heaven is something that can grow.  Most images of heaven are of it being “the end of the line”, the place we go after the final judgement.  But this hymn speaks of heaven as an event.  This may be very useful as we approach Lent.  Perhaps we can ponder on what it would be like if we saw Lent as a time for “heaven to begin in me”.  That is not about me being perfect or sinless.  But it is about something beginning afresh in my life that is a space where God, my neighbour and myself are in full harmony.

So poetry can give us unusual words that help us see things differently.  Using the words of this hymn, perhaps a simple prayer for Lent would be “Lord, begin a bit of heaven in me”.

What a wonderful moment this morning, as the children of the Junior Church (and others) presented the Nativity story in such an attractive and moving way!  The angels were marvellous, the shepherds funny; the kings were majestic and Mary was superb.  And so on…. each part worked so well, and I felt myself more and more moved by the whole presentation.  I enjoyed seeing others enjoying what they were doing.  Moreover, the whole cast supported and encouraged others: a few, sadly, were sick – so others took on their part.  The older children helped the younger ones – microphones were shared – positive smiles helped it all along.  And then the music ….. wow!  From the small youth orchestra before the service – to Cadenza singing as superbly as I have ever heard them – to the traditional rendition of Sleigh Ride, with whip, glockenspiel, horse’s hooves, percussion and organ.  And all this was no mere “performance” – it was a presentation of the story that claims our lives.  This story makes us what we are, and demands our allegiance.  I am so happy to give my best in service of a God who makes this sort of morning happen.

And then there were the unexpected moments.  Two stand out to me.  One angel was so happy being “on stage” that she kept waving to her parents.  It might be thought that this is the wrong thing to do – but she seemed so immersed in what she was doing that it felt totally natural.  We all know that, at times, we need and like acknowledgement: this angel simply wanted Mum and Dad to wave back – they did – and it made her day. Simple unalloyed pleasure!
Then there was the moment that one young boy (not in the cast) wanted to walk around the “stage”.  Who were we to prevent that?  He had the confidence to do what he wanted – and walked around and around, not bothering what others thought or felt.  I am so delighted that children feel at home in our church.  Of course, sometimes they need guidance about what behaviour is appropriate.  But we can be too constrained into doing the right thing – rather than behaving “naturally”.  This lad didn’t disturb anyone.  His promenade added to the easy-going nature of the whole service.

This parish is so fortunate that, in Junior Church, Pippa Mitchell and Claire Palles Clark set such a tone of encouragement, support and acceptance.  Jane Vlach led the service serenely.  And I felt God’s presence hovering around nearby.

Thank you.

There are two well-known phrases that do NOT occur in a wedding service.  According to the Prayer Book (modern or old) the priest does not say “you may now kiss the bride”.  Yet, I found myself saying that phrase on Friday in St Mary’s – solely because the groom had asked me at the rehearsal to do precisely that.  And, secondly, the couple do not say “I do”.  Though that simple sentence occurs in many films, the words the couple are meant to say are “I will”.

The vows are a declaration of their will – not merely a description of what they plan to do. Loving, comforting, honouring, protecting and being faithful are not merely 5 items to put on your list for “what I would like to do this weekend”.  They are rather things that will shape your behaviour and attitude.  Fulfilling your marriage vows only happens if you bring all your energy, intention, thoughtfulness and compassion to bear.  That’s what makes the vow a declaration of your will.  I hear echoes of this in the words from Jesus (borrowed from the Old Testament) where he affirms the commandment to love God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength.  

 But we should not downplay too much what we actually do – the road to Hell being paved with good intentions.  Certainly, the Jewish tradition is much stronger on recognising that actions are the way we display our faith, our hope, and our belief.  I was reminded of this on Sunday morning at the early service when the Gospel reading was the parable of the Good Samaritan.  The lawyer asks “what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”  And Jesus concludes, after the parable, “Go and do the same”.  William Blake’s words about the importance of loving ‘in minute particulars’ come to mind.  We fulfil our vows of commitment by daily doing simple actions, even if they need to be recognised as flowing from a deeper source.

So, on Friday afternoon, the newly married husband did something embarassing in front of the congregation of 130 cheering and applauding friends.  Perhaps he was right to ask me (silently) “What shall I do?”  And perhaps I was right to say “You may/will now kiss the bride”.