Daily prayers in the Kingdom Season with USPG: (19) 23 November 2023

The ruins of a large, three-aisled early Christian Basilica (Basilica A) in Philippi, dating from the end of fifth century CE (Photograph: Carole Raddato, Frankfurt / Wikipedia / CC BY-SA 2.0)

Patrick Comerford

In this time between All Saints’ Day and Advent Sunday, we are in the Kingdom Season in the Calendar of the Church of England. This week began with the Second Sunday before Advent (19 November 2023).

The calendar of the Church of England in Common Worship today (23 November) remembers Clement (ca 100), Bishop of Rome, Martyr.

Throughout this week, I am reflecting on the seven churches in cities or places that give their names to the titles of nine letters or epistles by Saint Paul: Rome, Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, Philippi, Colossae and Thessaloniki.

My reflections this morning follow this pattern:

1, A reflection on a Pauline church;

2, the Gospel reading of the day in the Church of England lectionary;

3, a prayer from the USPG prayer diary.

The imposing basilica next to the Forum in Philippi and its gagantic pillars, also known as Basilica B (Photograph: Carole Raddato, Frankfurt / Wikipedia / CC BY-SA 2.0)

Saint Paul’s Philippi:

The Apostle Paul wrote 14 of the 27 books the New Testament. He founded several Christian communities in Asia Minor and Europe from the mid-40s to the mid-50s AD, and wrote letters to the churches in Rome, Corinth, Galatia, Ephesus, Philippi, Colossae and Thessaloniki.

The Letter to the Philippians is the eleventh book in the New Testament. The Letter is attributed to the Apostle Paul and Saint Timothy is named as the co-author or co-sender.

Philippi (Φίλιπποι, Phílippoi) was a major Greek city north-west of the island of Thasos. It was established by colonists from Thasos in 360-359 BCE. The original name of the city was Krenides (Κρηνῖδες, ‘Fountains’), and it was renamed by Philip II of Macedon in 356 BCE.

The town offered control of the local gold mines and the route between Amphipolis and Neapolis, part of the great royal route running east-west across Macedonia and later a part of the Roman Via Egnatia. Philip II preserved the city’s autonomy within the kingdom of Macedon, but Philippi became fully integrated into the kingdom during the last years of the reign of Philip V of Macedon (221 to 179 BCE) or the reign of Perseus of Macedon.

The archaeological remains include walls, the Greek theatre, the foundations of a house under the Roman forum and a small temple dedicated to a hero cult.

After the assassination of Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, Caesar’s heirs Mark Antony and Octavian confronted the forces of the assassins Marcus Junius Brutus and Gaius Cassius Longinus at the Battle of Philippi in 42 BCE. The city was refounded as Colonia Victrix Philippensium, was renamed Colonia Iulia Philippensis and then Colonia Augusta Iulia Philippensis, and became a ‘miniature Rome.’

The Apostle Paul visited Philippi during his second missionary journey, probably in 49 or 50 CE, accompanied by Silas, Timothy and possibly Luke. When Saint Paul preached in Philippi, it was the first time any Christian ever preached on European soil. He visited Philippi on two other occasions, in 56 and 57 CE. His Letter to the Philippians dates from ca 61-62 CE.

A century later, Saint Polycarp wrote a letter from Smyrna to the church in Philippi ca 160 CE.

Although Philippi had one of the oldest churches in Europe, it seem to have had a bishop only from the 4th century. The first recorded church in the city is a small building. The Basilica of Saint Paul is identified by a mosaic inscription on the pavement, and is dated ca 343 from a reference by Bishop Porphyrios, who attended the Council of Serdica that year.

Seven churches were built in Philippi between the mid-fourth century and late sixth centuries. Some of them competed in size and decoration with the most beautiful churches in Thessaloniki and Constantinople. The church known as Basilica B has been compared with Hagia Sophia and Saint Irene in Constantinople. The complex cathedral that took the place of the Basilica of Saint Paul at the end of the fifth century was built around an octagonal church and also rivalled the churches of Constantinople.

The city was almost totally destroyed by an earthquake ca 619, and became hardly more than a village. The Emperor Nicephorus II Phocas rebuilt the fortifications on the acropolis and in part of the city ca 969. Bishop Basil Kartzimopoulos rebuilt part of the defences inside the city in 1077, and Philippi began to prosper once more as a centre of business and wine production.

Philippi was occupied briefly by the Franks after the Fourth Crusade and the capture of Constantinople in 1204, and was then captured by the Serbs. It was abandoned in the 14th century after the Ottoman conquest. By the 1540s, the Turks were using the ruins as a quarry.

The first modern archaeological description, based on a visit in 1856, was published in 1860 by Georges Perrot. More extensive investigations by French archaeologists followed. Later excavations were interrupted by World War I, but continued until 1937, and the Greek theatre, the forum, Basilicas A and B, the baths, and the walls were excavated. Greek archaeologists returned after World War II and uncovered the bishop’s quarter and the octagonal church, large private residences, a basilica near the museum, and two others in the necropolis east of the city.

The present village of Filippoi is near the ruins of the ancient city and is part of the Greek region of East Macedonia and Thrace in Kavala. The archaeological site is a Unesco World Heritage Site due to its exceptional Roman architecture, its urban layout as a smaller reflection of Rome itself, and its importance in early Christianity.

There is a general consensus that the Letter to the Philippians consists of authentic Pauline material, and that it is a composite of multiple letter fragments from Paul to the church in Philippi. These letters could have been written from Ephesus in 52-55 CE or Caesarea Maritima in 57-59 CE, but it seems most likely they were written in Rome ca 62 CE, or about 10 years after Paul’s first visit to Philippi.

Many biblical scholars agree that Philippians is a compilation of fragments from three separate letters written by Saint Paul, edited into a single document in Greek, sometime during the 50s or early 60s CE:

1, Philippians 4: 10-20, a short thank-you note to the Philippian church for gifts.
2, Philippians 1: 1 to 3:1, and perhaps also 4: 4-9 and 4: 21-23.
3, Philippians 3: 2 to 4:1, and perhaps also 4: 2-3.

  In Chapters 1 and 2, Saint Paul sends word to the Philippians of his upcoming sentence in Rome and of his optimism in the face of death. He assures the Philippians that his imprisonment is helping to spread the Christian message, rather than hindering it.

In Chapter 3, he warns the Philippians about those Christians who insist that circumcision is necessary for salvation.

In Chapter 4, he urges the Philippians to resolve their conflicts with one another. He thanks them for their gifts and assures them that God will reward their generosity.

There is a sense of optimism throughout the epistle. Saint Paul is hopeful that he will be released, he promises to send Timothy to the Philippians, and expects visit them again. Chapter 2 also contains a famous Christological poem describing the nature of Christ, with the often-quoted concluding words (Philippians 2: 9-11):

Therefore God also highly exalted him
and gave him the name
that is above every name,
so that at the name of Jesus
every knee should bend,
in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
and every tongue should confess
that Jesus Christ is Lord,
to the glory of God the Father.

Saint Paul constantly tells his readers that the whole law is summed up in one single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself’ (Galatians 5: 5). On more than one occasion, he summarises the Christian message in this way. In the Letter to the Galatians, for example, he says: ‘The only thing that counts is faith working through love’ (Galatians 5: 6). He also writes, ‘For the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, “You shall love your neighbour as yourself”.’ (Galatians 5: 14)

In the Letter to the Philippians, Saint Paul writes: ‘If then there is any encouragement in Christ, any consolation from love, any sharing in the Spirit, and compassion and sympathy. Make my joy complete: be of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind’ (Philippians 2: 1-2).

Papyrus 16 – Papyrus Oxyrhynchus 1009 – in the Cairo Egyptian Museum containing Philippians 3: 10-17, 4: 2-8

Luke 19: 41-44 (NRSVA):

41 As he came near and saw the city, he wept over it, 42 saying, ‘If you, even you, had only recognized on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes. 43 Indeed, the days will come upon you, when your enemies will set up ramparts around you and surround you, and hem you in on every side. 44 They will crush you to the ground, you and your children within you, and they will not leave within you one stone upon another; because you did not recognize the time of your visitation from God.’

A floor mosaic with the name of Saint Paul (Παυλο) in the Octagonal Basilica in Philippi (Photograph: Berthold Werner / Wikipedia / CC BY-SA 3.0)

Today’s Prayers (Thursday 23 November 2023):

The theme this week in ‘Pray With the World Church,’ the Prayer Diary of the Anglican mission agency USPG (United Society Partners in the Gospel), is ‘16 Days of Activism Against Gender-Based Violence’. This theme was introduced on Sunday.

The USPG Prayer Diary today (23 November 2023, International Day for Tolerance) invites us to pray in these words:

Lord, we pray that women might receive greater acknowledgement for their role in sustaining our churches and our communities. Amen.

The Collect:

Creator and Father of eternity,
whose martyr Clement bore witness with his blood
to the love he proclaimed and the gospel that he preached:
give us thankful hearts as we celebrate your faithfulness,
revealed to us in the lives of your saints,
and strengthen us in our pilgrimage as we follow your Son,
Jesus Christ our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.

The Post-Communion Prayer:

God our redeemer,
whose Church was strengthened by the blood of your martyr Clement:
so bind us, in life and death, to Christ’s sacrifice
that our lives, broken and offered with his,
may carry his death and proclaim his resurrection in the world;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Yesterday’s Reflection (Ephesus)

Continued Tomorrow (Colossae)

The Forum in Philippi (Photograph: Carole Raddato, Frankfurt / Wikipedia / CC BY-SA 2.0)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The ancient theatre in Philippi (Photograph: MrPanyGoff / Wikipedia / CC BY-SA 2.0)

Seven Last Words (5): ‘I am thirsty’

‘Give me a drink’ … an icon of the Samaritan Woman at the Well, in the Church of Aghios Nikolaos in Vathy on the Greek island of Samos (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

5, John 19: 28

Patrick Comerford

Reading: John 19: 28-29.

The words: ‘I am thirsty.’

Reflection: (5) Distress

‘I am thirsty.’

This is the fifth of the seven last words and is traditionally called ‘The Word of Distress.’ Commentators regularly compare the thirst of Christ on the Cross with the request he makes to the Samaritan woman at the Well of Sychar: ‘Give me a drink’ (John 4: 7), and the promise that follows: ‘those who drink of the water that I will give them will never be thirsty’ (John 4: 14).

In expressing his thirst out loud in that cry from the cross, Christ shows his humanity and his humility. In expressing such a basic need, he shows his solidarity with all those in humanity, living or dying, healthy or sick, great or small, who are in need and who in humility are forced to ask for a cup of water (see Matthew 10: 42).

Saint John tells us Christ spoke these words, ‘I am thirsty,’ “in order to fulfil the Scripture’ (John 19: 28). Once again, the dying Christ calls out drawing on the words of Psalm 22: ‘My mouth is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue sticks to my jaws; you lay me in the dust of death’ (Psalm 22: 15). And again, later in the Psalms, we hear the words: ‘and for my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink’ (Psalm 69: 21).

The Psalmist’s words treat of physical thirst. But on the lips of Christ on the Cross they give a messianic perspective to his suffering.

In his thirst, the dying Christ seeks a drink quite different from water or vinegar, as when he asks the Samaritan woman at the well: ‘Give me a drink’ (John 4: 7). Physical thirst on that occasion was the symbol and the path to another thirst – the thirst that leads to the conversion of the Samaritan woman.

On the cross, Christ thirsts for a new humanity to be formed and shaped through his incarnation, life, passion, death, resurrection and ascension, and that looks for his coming again.

The thirst of the cross, on the lips of the dying Christ, is the ultimate expression of that desire of baptism to be received into the Kingdom of God. Now that desire is about to be fulfilled. With those words Christ confirms the ardent love with which he desires to receive that supreme ‘baptism’ to open to all of us the fountain of water which really quenches the thirst and saves (see John 4: 13-14).

‘The voice of the hidden waterfall’ … above the beach at Loughshinny, Co Dublin (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Some years ago, on one of my beach walks near Skerries in north Co Dublin, I was climbing up behind the shoreline in Loughshinny, and came across what I imagined to be a secret waterfall.

I was reminded how the poet TS Eliot concludes his poem Little Gidding (1942), the last of his Four Quartets, with his deep thoughts about the spiritual refreshment to be found in water, in rivers and in the sea:

We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning;
At the source of the longest river
The voice of the hidden waterfall
And the children in the apple-tree
Not known, because not looked for
But heard, half-heard, in the stillness
Between two waves of the sea.
Quick now, here, now, always –
A condition of complete simplicity
(Costing not less than everything)
And all shall be well and
All manner of thing shall be well
When the tongues of flame are in-folded
Into the crowned knot of fire
And the fire and the rose are one.

And I was reminded too how we take water for granted in this country, despite the debates and protests and arguments we had about water charges. We use it freely. We baulk at any efforts to charge us for it in restaurants. It was interesting at the time how the great political battle we had then was not over the cost of recapitalising the banks but on the follow-up to introducing water charges.

Already the world is suffering from a scarcity of water. Those who analyse future security risks point to the danger of wars in the Middle East caused not by militant Islam, nor by militant Zionism, but by competition for access to the waters of the Nile, the Jordan and the rivers of Mesopotamia, the Euphrates and the Tigris. This is part of the battle scenario that was played out in which the self-styled Islamic State may have been the pawn of a greater power in the Middle East.

We take water for granted at the moment. But our water crises are created precisely because we take water for granted. They are not caused by us using too much water, but by us wasting too much water, mainly through not maintaining the pipes that bring water from our lakes and rivers to our homes, factories, offices and schools.

If we do not remedy this soon – and it can only be remedied through political will, political action and public spending – then we face a series of major water crises, every year, each winter and each summer.

If this problem is not addressed, the cost of supplying accessing water, like all taxation, will rise steadily, drip-drip-drip, that people will be cut off, that major health problems will arise. Profit, not health and cleanliness, could soon become the primary motive for supplying water.

At present, this may appear to be a prospect so dismal that it is almost a fantasy of Orwellian dimensions. But it can come about through our own complacency, our own carelessness, the way we continue to think that water … well … that water is going to continue flowing freely, in saecula saeculorum (εἰς τοὺς αἰῶνας τῶν αἰώνων, eis toùs aionas ton aiṓnōn, Philippians 4: 20).

Why do we take water for granted?

Why, when we ought to be in wonder and in awe?

Up to 60% of the human body is water, the brain is composed of 70% water, and the lungs are nearly 90% water. About 83% of our blood is water, which helps digest our food, transport waste, and control our body temperature. Each day, each human must replace 2.4 litres of water, some through drinking and the rest taken by the body from the foods we eat.

When water finally flows from Christ’s side on the cross, we know that he has given us all.

God gives us all in the water of life.

Yes, we ought to be in wonder and in awe.

To quote again from TS Eliot, he writes in The Dry Salvages (1941), the third of his Four Quartets:

I do not know much about gods; but I think that the river
Is a strong brown god — sullen, untamed and intractable,
Patient to some degree, at first recognised as a frontier;
Useful, untrustworthy, as a conveyor of commerce;
Then only a problem confronting the builder of bridges.
The problem once solved, the brown god is almost forgotten
By the dwellers in cities — ever, however, implacable.
Keeping his seasons and rages, destroyer, reminder
Of what men choose to forget …

Yes, we ought to be in wonder and in awe.

But so often we forget about water in our town and our cities until it becomes a problem. And then, when the problem goes, we forget about the way in which water is the first and the last of God’s great blessings in nature, immediately after creation itself.

● Creation comes on the first day, in the story in Genesis, and life begins to have possibilities and to take shape on the second day, when God separates the waters.
● The slaves are led from captivity to freedom and promise through the waters of the Red Sea.
● The exiles weep and dream of promise by the waters of Babylon.
● In the waters of the Jordan, Christ is revealed as the Beloved Son, and the Spirit hovers above the new creation.
● We hear Christ thirsting on the Cross in his dying moments.
● Water flows from the side of the Crucified Christ.
● The waters of Baptism incorporate us into the Body of Christ.
● And then, God’s creation reaches the climax of its potential, its potential beauty, with that image in Revelation of the City of God with the River of Life running through its centre.

Too often we see water as a problem – rivers to be bridged, tsunamis to clean up after, storms to clear up from, leaky roofs, dripping drains, flooded fields, stormy shores, barren deserts when water fails … drip-drip-drip

And we blame not ourselves.

I begin each day in the shower, thanking God for water, not just the water that cleans me, restores my health and quenches my thirst, but thanking God too for the waters of baptism, in which I was bathed in the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, when God called me his own.

The Samaritan Woman at the Well … a sculpture by Samuel Peploe Wood (1827-1873). This missing drinking fountain once stood at the corner of the Museum Building in Lichfield, where it was erected in 1862 (Photograph courtesy David Titley)

Christ shares water at the well in Sychar with the Samaritan woman, who is an outsider in so many ways. Sharing water with her, he tells her she is not an outsider, she is accepted by God, she is truly called into the Kingdom of God.

He offers her living water, and those who drink of this water that he gives us will never be thirsty. The water that he gives us will become in us a spring of water gushing up to eternal life.

It is water that cannot be tainted, water that cannot be commoditised, water that privatisation cannot stop from flowing freely.

Lord, I thirst. Give me this water, so that I may never be thirsty, Amen.

Prayer:

Lord Jesus Christ,
you thirsted physically on the cross
that our spiritual thirst might be quenched.
Draw us even deeper into the living wells of our salvation
that we may long more and more
for the things of the Spirit,
for your mercy’s sake. Amen.

(Revd Canon Professor) Patrick Comerford is priest-in-charge, the Rathkeale and Kilnaughtin Group of Parishes. This is the fifth of seven reflections on ‘the Seven Last Words’ on Good Friday, 19 April 2019, in Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton, Co Limerick.

Looking forward in Lent to the joys and hopes of the Easter life

‘There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him’ … dinner in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 7 April (Lent 5):

11.30 a.m., Morning Prayer, Saint Brendan’s Church, Kilnaughtin (Tarbert).

Readings: Isaiah 43: 16-21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3: 4b-14; John 12: 1-8.

‘… forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize’ (Philippians 3: 13-14) … Greek athletes in a frieze (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

We are coming close to the end of Lent. At one time, this Sunday was known as Passion Sunday. Next Sunday [14 April 2019], the Sixth Sunday in Lent, is Palm Sunday, and so our readings this morning prepare us to move closer to Palm Sunday and the Passion stories of Holy Week.

In our epistle reading (Philippians 3: 4b-14), Saint Paul is writing to the church in Philippi, a church in Macedonia, near Thessaloniki. In this letter, he tells his readers how he wants to know Christ in his suffering and in his resurrection. He is making progress not on his own, but through God’s grace. He has left his past behind him, and eagerly seeks what lies ahead. Like the winner in a race of Greek athletes was called up to receive his prize, Saint Paul now seeks God’s call to share in the life of the Resurrection.

The timing for our Gospel reading (John 12: 1-8) is the day before Palm Sunday, and the setting is in Bethany, on the Mount of Olives, 3 km east of Jerusalem. It was there, in the previous chapter, Christ raised Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, from the dead (see John 11: 1-44).

The name Lazarus is a form of the name Eleazar. As the freed slaves moved through the wilderness in the Exodus story, the priest Eleazar was responsible for carrying the oil for the Temple menorah or lampstand, the sweet incense, the daily grain offering and the anointing oil (see Numbers 4: 16).

So, as Saint John’s Gospel carefully sets the location and the timing of this story, we can expect a story this morning with a connection to death and resurrection, and with some association with anointing.

The plotting against Jesus has intensified. Meanwhile, many people are making the pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover. The religious authorities, aware that Jesus is ‘performing many signs’ (11: 47), now want to arrest him.

Jesus now returns to Bethany, where the family of Lazarus invite him to dinner. In this account, Martha serves the meal, and Lazarus is at the table with them. In Saint Luke’s account, Martha serves while Mary sits at the feet of Jesus (see Luke 10: 38-42).

After dinner, Mary takes ‘a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard’ to anoint the feet of Jesus. Nard came from the roots of the spike or nard plant grown in the Himalayas. If the guests were reclining on couches, Jesus’ feet would be accessible for anointing, but a respectable Jewish woman would hardly appear in public with her hair unbound.

The reaction of Judas points forward to the impending arrest of Jesus (see John 18:1-11). The cost of this nard, 300 denarii, was almost a year’s wages for a labourer. I wonder whether there is a link between 300 denarii and the 30 pieces of silver Judas receives in Saint Matthew’s Gospel (see Matthew 26: 15)?

Anointing was the last step before burial, but it was not for executed criminals.

Has Mary bought the perfume to have it ready for Christ’s burial?

Does she realise that using it now is not a waste of the perfume?

Martha and Mary have offered their home in Bethany as a place of welcome, peace and refuge for Jesus. His life is under threat, but still he has time, and they have time, for a meal together.

They had a hint of the Easter story already in this home when Jesus raised their brother Lazarus from the dead. Now we have a sign of Jesus’ impending death, when Mary anoints his feet with costly perfume.

But Judas fails to see the full picture, to understand the full scenario that is beginning to unfold. Judas has a point, I suppose, from our point of view. There is so much need in the world, so much need around us, there is so much that is demanding the best of our intentions.

But, so often, the best of my intentions remains just that, and I never do anything about them. How often do we hear people say, ‘Charity begins at home,’ as a way of putting down people who genuinely want to do something about the injustices around us, even the injustices in the wider world?

Yet, so often, we suspect, that in their case charity does not even begin at home … it never even gets to the starting blocks.

For Mary, in this morning’s Gospel reading, charity begins in her own home. But we get a hint that it is not going to end there. It has only started.

Judas is told the poor are always going to be with him … perhaps because charity does not even begin in his own home, never mind reaching out beyond that.

Mary’s action is loving and uninhibited, Mary’s gift is costly and beyond measure.

Love like that begins at home, and it goes on giving beyond the home, beyond horizons we never imagine.

Later that week, the disciples must have been reminded of Mary’s actions when Jesus insisted on washing their feet in a similar act of love and humility, once again at dinner.

How would I feel if Jesus knelt in front of me and washed my feet?

Would I worry whether I have smelly socks, whether he notices my bunions, chilblains and in-grown toenails? Would I be so self-obsessed and concerned about what he thinks of me that I would never stop to think of what I think of him and what he thinks of others?

Or would I, like Mary, smell the sweet fragrance that fills a house that is filled with love?

Someone recently described prayer as ‘a time of living in the fragrance and the scent of God. It is gentle, light and lasts long. It comes off us; if we live in love, we spread love, and others know that something deep in us gives a fragrance to all of our life.’

Mary of Bethany is extravagant and generous and is not inhibited by the attitude of others around her. How much did she understand about Jesus’ impending death when none of the disciples saw it coming?

Mary does not sell the perfume, as Judas wants her to. Instead, she keeps it and she brings it to the grave early on Easter morning with the intention of anointing the body of the dead Jesus.

Can people smell the fragrance of Christ from us?

Are we prepared to let charity begin at home, but not end there?

And then, in the joy of the Easter Resurrection, are we ready to allow that generous charity, that generous love, to be shared with the whole world?

Like Saint Paul, who has left his past behind him and eagerly seeks what lies ahead, like the winner waiting to be called up to receive his prize, we can answer God’s call to share in the life of the Resurrection.

And so, may all we think, say, and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

‘There they gave a dinner for him’ (John 12: 2) … a table ready for dinner in the evening sunset by the sea at Platanias, near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 12: 1-8 (NRSVA):

1 Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 ‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ 6 (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7 Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’

‘There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him’ … at dinner in Corfu (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical Colour: Violet

Penitential Kyries:

Lord God,
you sent your Son to reconcile us to yourself and to one another.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Lord Jesus,
you heal the wounds of sin and division.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Holy Spirit,
through you we put to death the sins of the body – and live.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect:

Most merciful God,
who by the death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ
delivered and saved the world:
Grant that by faith in him who suffered on the cross,
we may triumph in the power of his victory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Lenten Collect:

Almighty and everlasting God,
you hate nothing that you have made
and forgive the sins of all those who are penitent:
Create and make in us new and contrite hearts
that we, worthily lamenting our sins
and acknowledging our wretchedness,
may receive from you, the God of all mercy,
perfect remission and forgiveness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Introduction to the Peace:

Now in union with Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near through the shedding of Christ’s blood; for he is our peace. (Ephesians 2: 17)

Blessing:

Christ draw you to himself
and grant that you find in his cross a sure ground for faith,
a firm support for hope,
and the assurance of sins forgiven:

Saint Paul is writing to the church in Philippi, then a major town in Macedonia in northern Greece (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Hymns:

517, Brother, sister, let me serve you (CD 30)
218, And can it be that I should gain (CD 14)
587, Just as I am, without one plea (CD 33)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The Risen Christ with Mary of Bethany (left) and Mary Magdalene (right) … a stained glass window in Saint Nicholas’s Church, Adare, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Generous love begins begins at home, but it does not end there

‘There they gave a dinner for him’ (John 12: 2) … a table ready for dinner in the evening sunset by the sea at Platanias, near Rethymnon in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Patrick Comerford

Sunday 7 April (Lent 5):

9.30 a.m., Parish Eucharist (Holy Communion 2), Saint Mary’s Church, Askeaton.

Readings: Isaiah 43: 16-21; Psalm 126; Philippians 3: 4b-14; John 12: 1-8.

‘… forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on towards the goal for the prize’ (Philippians 3: 13-14) … Greek athletes in a frieze (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

May I speak to you in the name of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

We are coming close to the end of Lent. At one time, this Sunday was known as Passion Sunday. Next Sunday [14 April 2019], the Sixth Sunday in Lent, is Palm Sunday, and so our readings this morning prepare us to move closer to Palm Sunday and the Passion stories of Holy Week.

In our epistle reading (Philippians 3: 4b-14), Saint Paul is writing to the church in Philippi, a church in Macedonia, near Thessaloniki. In this letter, he tells his readers how he wants to know Christ in his suffering and in his resurrection. He is making progress not on his own, but through God’s grace. He has left his past behind him, and eagerly seeks what lies ahead. Like the winner in a race of Greek athletes was called up to receive his prize, Saint Paul now seeks God’s call to share in the life of the Resurrection.

The timing for our Gospel reading (John 12: 1-8) is the day before Palm Sunday, and the setting is in Bethany, on the Mount of Olives, 3 km east of Jerusalem. It was there, in the previous chapter, Christ raised Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, from the dead (see John 11: 1-44).

The name Lazarus is a form of the name Eleazar. As the freed slaves moved through the wilderness in the Exodus story, the priest Eleazar was responsible for carrying the oil for the Temple menorah or lampstand, the sweet incense, the daily grain offering and the anointing oil (see Numbers 4: 16).

So, as Saint John’s Gospel carefully sets the location and the timing of this story, we can expect a story this morning with a connection to death and resurrection, and with some association with anointing.

The plotting against Jesus has intensified. Meanwhile, many people are making the pilgrimage to Jerusalem for the feast of the Passover. The religious authorities, aware that Jesus is ‘performing many signs’ (11: 47), now want to arrest him.

Jesus now returns to Bethany, where the family of Lazarus invite him to dinner. In this account, Martha serves the meal, and Lazarus is at the table with them. In Saint Luke’s account, Martha serves while Mary sits at the feet of Jesus (see Luke 10: 38-42).

After dinner, Mary takes ‘a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard’ to anoint the feet of Jesus. Nard came from the roots of the spike or nard plant grown in the Himalayas. If the guests were reclining on couches, Jesus’ feet would be accessible for anointing, but a respectable Jewish woman would hardly appear in public with her hair unbound.

The reaction of Judas points forward to the impending arrest of Jesus (see John 18:1-11). The cost of this nard, 300 denarii, was almost a year’s wages for a labourer. I wonder whether there is a link between 300 denarii and the 30 pieces of silver Judas receives in Saint Matthew’s Gospel (see Matthew 26: 15)?

Anointing was the last step before burial, but it was not for executed criminals.

Has Mary bought the perfume to have it ready for Christ’s burial?

Does she realise that using it now is not a waste of the perfume?

Martha and Mary have offered their home in Bethany as a place of welcome, peace and refuge for Jesus. His life is under threat, but still he has time, and they have time, for a meal together.

They had a hint of the Easter story already in this home when Jesus raised their brother Lazarus from the dead. Now we have a sign of Jesus’ impending death, when Mary anoints his feet with costly perfume.

But Judas fails to see the full picture, to understand the full scenario that is beginning to unfold. Judas has a point, I suppose, from our point of view. There is so much need in the world, so much need around us, there is so much that is demanding the best of our intentions.

But, so often, the best of my intentions remains just that, and I never do anything about them. How often do we hear people say, ‘Charity begins at home,’ as a way of putting down people who genuinely want to do something about the injustices around us, even the injustices in the wider world?

Yet, so often, we suspect, that in their case charity does not even begin at home … it never even gets to the starting blocks.

For Mary, in this morning’s Gospel reading, charity begins in her own home. But we get a hint that it is not going to end there. It has only started.

Judas is told the poor are always going to be with him … perhaps because charity does not even begin in his own home, never mind reaching out beyond that.

Mary’s action is loving and uninhibited, Mary’s gift is costly and beyond measure.

Love like that begins at home, and it goes on giving beyond the home, beyond horizons we never imagine.

Later that week, the disciples must have been reminded of Mary’s actions when Jesus insisted on washing their feet in a similar act of love and humility, once again at dinner.

How would I feel if Jesus knelt in front of me and washed my feet?

Would I worry whether I have smelly socks, whether he notices my bunions, chilblains and in-grown toenails? Would I be so self-obsessed and concerned about what he thinks of me that I would never stop to think of what I think of him and what he thinks of others?

Or would I, like Mary, smell the sweet fragrance that fills a house that is filled with love?

Someone recently described prayer as ‘a time of living in the fragrance and the scent of God. It is gentle, light and lasts long. It comes off us; if we live in love, we spread love, and others know that something deep in us gives a fragrance to all of our life.’

Mary of Bethany is extravagant and generous and is not inhibited by the attitude of others around her. How much did she understand about Jesus’ impending death when none of the disciples saw it coming?

Mary does not sell the perfume, as Judas wants her to. Instead, she keeps it and she brings it to the grave early on Easter morning with the intention of anointing the body of the dead Jesus.

Can people smell the fragrance of Christ from us?

Are we prepared to let charity begin at home, but not end there?

And then, in the joy of the Easter Resurrection, are we ready to allow that generous charity, that generous love, to be shared with the whole world?

Like Saint Paul, who has left his past behind him and eagerly seeks what lies ahead, like the winner waiting to be called up to receive his prize, we can answer God’s call to share in the life of the Resurrection.

And so, may all we think, say, and do be to the praise, honour and glory of God, + Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

‘There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him’ … at dinner in Corfu (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

John 12: 1-8 (NRSVA):

1 Six days before the Passover Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. 2 There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him. 3 Mary took a pound of costly perfume made of pure nard, anointed Jesus’ feet, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume. 4 But Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him), said, 5 ‘Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?’ 6 (He said this not because he cared about the poor, but because he was a thief; he kept the common purse and used to steal what was put into it.) 7 Jesus said, ‘Leave her alone. She bought it so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. 8 You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.’

‘There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served, and Lazarus was one of those at the table with him’ … dinner in Sidney Sussex College, Cambridge (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)

Liturgical Colour: Violet

Penitential Kyries:

Lord God,
you sent your Son to reconcile us to yourself and to one another.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

Lord Jesus,
you heal the wounds of sin and division.
Christ, have mercy.
Christ, have mercy.

Holy Spirit,
through you we put to death the sins of the body – and live.
Lord, have mercy.
Lord, have mercy.

The Collect:

Most merciful God,
who by the death and resurrection of your Son Jesus Christ
delivered and saved the world:
Grant that by faith in him who suffered on the cross,
we may triumph in the power of his victory;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

The Lenten Collect:

Almighty and everlasting God,
you hate nothing that you have made
and forgive the sins of all those who are penitent:
Create and make in us new and contrite hearts
that we, worthily lamenting our sins
and acknowledging our wretchedness,
may receive from you, the God of all mercy,
perfect remission and forgiveness;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Introduction to the Peace:

Now in union with Christ Jesus you who were once far off have been brought near through the shedding of Christ’s blood; for he is our peace. (Ephesians 2: 17)

Preface:

Through Jesus Christ our Saviour,
who, for the redemption of the world,
humbled himself to death on the cross;
that, being lifted up from the earth,
he might draw all people to himself:

The Post-Communion Prayer:

God of hope,
in this Eucharist we have tasted
the promise of your heavenly banquet
and the richness of eternal life.
May we who bear witness to the death of your Son,
also proclaim the glory of his resurrection,
for he is Lord for ever and ever.

Blessing:

Christ draw you to himself
and grant that you find in his cross a sure ground for faith,
a firm support for hope,
and the assurance of sins forgiven:

Saint Paul is writing to the church in Philippi, then a major town in Macedonia in northern Greece (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)

Hymns:

517, Brother, sister, let me serve you (CD 30)
218, And can it be that I should gain (CD 14)
587, Just as I am, without one plea (CD 33)

Scripture quotations are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible: Anglicised Edition copyright © 1989, 1995, National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide. http://nrsvbibles.org

The Risen Christ with Mary of Bethany (left) and Mary Magdalene (right) … a stained glass window in Saint Nicholas’s Church, Adare, Co Limerick (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2018)