Ultimately everything turns to ash. That’s the important reminder of today. All across the world people of faith will receive a cross of ash on their foreheads, with a prayer that goes something like this:

Dust you are and to dust you will return. Turn away from sin and follow Christ.

We do this, not because we have serious self-esteem issues, but because we have learned the value of recognising that we have a tendency to fill our lives with things that do not last, and that, in the big scheme of things, have little real value.

But, the dust also reminds us of something else – we are not just dust. We are so much more. We are created in God’s image. We are immortal beings, created out of the stuff of eternity. We are participants in the divine life and purpose, and our lives are filled, if we so choose, with so much that is truly valuable and eternal. The problem is that we too easily forget this and allow the "dust" of our lives to become what defines us.

This year I was reflecting on something that I have heard a number of scientists assert – we are all shaped out of star dust. Literally, the same atoms and molecules that now form my being, were once the stuff of stars in some distant part of the cosmos! This has become a metaphor for me. I can choose which dust I will allow to define me – I can choose to live a life that is little more than the dirt that blows around my feet, or I can recognise that I am star dust, and I can live accordingly. Tonight as I receive the cross on my forehead I will be praying a slightly different version of the Ash Wednesday prayer for myself:

Star dust you are and to star dust you will return. Turn away from what can only become ash and follow Christ into what is eternal.

Perhaps you’d like to join me?

A Lectionary Reflection on Mark 9:2-9 for Epiphany 7B

Among the concerns I have about our world, there are two that I find myself returning to rather frequently. The first is that our world moves too fast. It’s not that I am worried about the rate of change, although I know of others who are. For me it’s that our decisions about values and measurements, about what is important and what deserves our attention and energy, are made too quickly, with too little consideration and reflection, and within a time frame that is too immediate. My second concern flows from this, and is a simple one. I worry that we have lost the true meaning of the word “glory”.

Perhaps I’m just getting old but, as much as I am a fan of tennis champion Rafael Nadal, I can’t help but feel that he has a lot of tennis to play before a biography is really warranted – yet there it is on the shelves of my local bookshop. I find it hard to believe that after two or three CDs, the time has come for a twenty-something musician to produce a “greatest hits” album. And I find the way the word “legend” is thrown around in sports commentaries rather unfortunate. It seems to me that when “glory” can be achieved with little or no paying of dues, with little or no real sacrifice, and with little or no lasting influence or contribution to speak of, we have devalued “glory” to the point where it no longer has value.

True glory – the kind that takes your breath away, that changes how you see the world, that inspires you to strive for your very best self – takes time to nurture and to recognise. To really encounter glory we need to slow down, we need to expand our awareness into the time frame of eternity, we need to move beyond a surface viewing to the kind of deep seeing that reveals the essence of things, and we need to become still enough to allow glory to get us firmly in its grasp. Real glory does not shine most brightly in dominance or wealth or prettiness, no matter how much we use the word to describe those things. Rather, glory is surprising. It is the irrepressible life that shines in all things but that is seen most clearly in the places and people where we would least expect it. Authentic glory is the glow of what is thoroughly good, vulnerably true and genuinely beautiful, but to experience this glory requires the time and focus of a deeper look, of opening to what the old Celts called the “thin place”.

In the Gospel reading for this Sunday, Jesus took his three closest friends up a mountain where they saw God’s glory shining through Jesus as never before. But more than this, they were learning to understand and recognise what God’s glory really is. It was a lesson they didn’t easily learn, and, once they had, didn’t quickly forget.

(more…)

With Lent just less than two weeks away, I thought it would be a good idea to make some noise (in case you haven’t picked it up yet) about a new preaching and worship resource that Sacredise has released for Lent – Living in the Promised Land.

Based on the Revised Common Lectionary readings for Year B, Living in the Promised Land provides commentaries on the Gospel and Old Testament readings, thematic prayers and liturgies (including a Liturgy of Ash for Ash Wednesday), hymn suggestions, small group guidelines and graphics. It gives you everything you need to ensure that the Lenten journey is a deep and transforming one.

For more information or to download a free sample of Living in the Promised Land, click HERE.

A Lectionary Reflection on Mark 1:29-39 for Epiphany 5B

I often refer to myself as a mainly self-taught guitarist, but this isn’t really the whole truth. When, in my teens, I finally committed to learning to play, I was fortunate to have a cousin, who was a few years ahead of me on the learning curve. I remember the two of us sitting with our song books open, copying chords and talking about how to play the different positions. I learned my first strum pattern from her, and she helped me to see how some difficult positions could best be executed. There were many other musicians after her that explained technicalities and theory to me, and, most importantly showed me how to make my hands do what the instrument required to get the song I was looking for. So, I am not a self-taught musician. I am the product of a dynamic, changing and helpful community of musicians who were able to demonstrate the skills I was slowly developing.

Jesus employed exactly this method to create his new community based on the principles of God’s Reign. In the beginning of Mark’s Gospel, the writer urgently lays the foundation for the story he is trying to tell. He introduces us to this Jesus very quickly, showing us the prophesied preparation that happened with John the Baptist and revealing God’s call and approval of Jesus in the baptism narrative. Then, he gives a quick overview of Jesus’ message – really just outlining in the briefest terms what the essential content was – and a brief description of the start of Jesus’ new community in the calling of the first disciples.

Once this basic foundation is laid, Mark then moves into the next phase of his narrative purpose – showing us what this Reign of God actually looks like. Last week in the Revised Common Lectionary the Gospel showed us what the impact of Jesus message was – his authority was immediately recognised, and even supernatural powers found themselves unable to resist it. Now, in this week’s pericope, we are shown what the new community that Jesus was forming looked like. It’s as if the writer knows that we don’t just need to hear the message – we need to see it in action. In order for us to learn how to live as participants in this new community, as practitioners of Jesus message, we need those who have gone before us to demonstrate the skills we are trying to learn. That’s exactly what Mark offers us in these few verses.

(more…)

A Lectionary Reflection on Mark 1:21-28 for Epiphany 4B

This year’s Epiphany season is an incredible journey! It’s like Mark (and the Epiphany season itself) is so determined to show us who Jesus really is that he will go to any lengths to give us a glimpse of Jesus’ character and purpose. After skipping over the baptism and temptation stories of Jesus, Mark jumps straight into the action. Last week he gave us the basic summary of Jesus’ message. This week, he shows us the impact that message has on the people who heard it – including a “supernatural” being. What this does, is give us a brief glimpse of Jesus through the eyes of John the Baptist, God, the people Jesus taught, and even an evil spirit. When it comes to manifesting God’s glory, even evil can give us a reflection if we will but look and learn.

In Mark 1:21-28 we read the first part of a day in Jesus’ life. The synagogue, which is the centre of Hebrew religious and community life, is a good launch pad for a career as a travelling preacher, and Jesus is quite happy to begin there. There were synagogues all over the place – wherever ten families or more were settled together, a synagogue was formed. It’s primary function was teaching, but significantly, according to William Barclay, few synagogues had their own resident teachers, so visiting preachers were usually welcomed warmly. This explains why it was so easy for Jesus to find places to share his message. Mark doesn’t tell us what Jesus preached on this day, but it’s a reasonable assumption that it would have been in line with the basic message Mark has already revealed.

(more…)