Especially "for you"

This is my current desktop picture taken from the 3 Minute Retreat website. The over-printed text at the bottom reads, "I believe I shall enjoy the Lord's goodness in the land of the living" (Psalm 27:13). I suppose the reason I like it so much is the way it combines the dying year and disappearing path with the bridge in the sunlight holding the promise of life and hope. 

I had the privilege of celebrating communion again today - and, despite an unusually long bout of clonus (leg-wobbling), found the experience moving again, including as it does the extraordinary invitation to all and sundry to share in God's love for each individual: "Receive the body of our Lord Jesus Christ which he gave for you, and his blood which he shed for you. Eat and drink in remembrance that he died for you, and feed on him in your hearts by faith with thanksgiving." I love the way that it says three times, "for you" - just in case we don't get the message. 

What's the connection with my desktop? Well, I think in communion we taste the goodness of the Lord in distilled form. It's not the only place and time we enjoy it - such as the beauty of a woodland walk, or the warmth of family and friends' love... the list is endless. The special truth, however, is that "the land of the living" is not cribbed, cabined and confined to a lifespan. As Kristyn Getty's song puts it, "And we are raised with Him, / Death is dead; love has won. Christ has conquered." 

I hope you enjoy good things this week.

When things are all right

It occurs to me that I tend to use this blog for down-beat moments. But what about those times when things are going all right? Is there something to say then? At the moment things are quite sunny here, both literally and metaphorically - and I'm grateful. I've written elsewhere about my cousin, Grace Sheppard, wife of the cricketing bishop, who even when she was suffering the same cancer as had killed her husband, maintained her attitude of gratitude to the end. She wrote a beautiful book about caring for her husband, David, called Living with Dying. It seems to me that if Grace could be full of thankfulness in such a hard situation, then when "the sun's shining down on me" there's no excuse for not saying, "Blessed be your Name!"

Ironically, I've just discovered from the lovely iBenedictine nuns that today Catholics remember Our Lady of Sorrows. That's of course Mary, the mother of Jesus, and recalls the prophecy of Simeon that a sword would pierce her soul - looking forward to the agony of seeing her Son tortured to death before her eyes. I cannot conceive of the depth of suffering that was for her. I am fairly sure that she'd have said what a friend once said to me: "I wish it had been me, not him." There's no comfort for that moment, just the company of "the beloved disciple". I can't imagine there was blessing in her mind at that point, just bewilderment. Maybe she thought back to her poem of praise when her Son was conceived and she said about the Almighty, "Holy is his name" - meaning that his nature is incomprehensibly different.

There were naturally huge questions for Mary throughout the lifetime of her Son, from being asked to be an unmarried mother to becoming a widowed single mother, from seeing her Son quitting home as an itinerant teacher to his ending up on a cross and then leaving her at the ascension. And yet the song which is her trademark was "My soul doth magnify the Lord and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Saviour". Though we will certainly have major questions in life, may we have a prevailing attitude of gratitude because there have been moments when the shutters have been open and we have seen the goodness of God.