Virtual Methodist

We are nearly at the end of Lent. Out second locked down Lent. The discipline of waiting and the waiting of discipleship in this season is nearly at an end.  We are unsure how close we are to the end of a year of lockdowns. Methodist Churches in Northern Ireland are allowed to resume in person worship from tomorrow, although on my circuit we have symbolically deferred it to Easter Day, offering a series of "Holy Week at Home" services online, but our sisters and brothers in the Republic of Ireland have a further, as yet undetermined time to wait... and France has now just gone into a 3rd lockdown, perhaps auguring more to come for us. We are weary. And tonight's poem speaks into that weariness. It is human. It is part of the story of Christ's passion, and how his followers let him down because of that weariness. And we still do. Selah

Today's #LentArt post is "The washing of the disciples' feet" by Ghislaine Howard, another piece from the wonderful Methodist Modern Art Collection. It has clearly struck a chord with a number of people, and I am delighted that tonight's guest blog is by my friend and fellow 4 Corners Director, Father Martin Magill, who, he will be embarrassed to have me say, is for me the epitome of a servant leader. Indeed it was interesting to have a friend and artist respond to my earlier post saying that this time last year she remembers having her feet washed by Martin... How much has changed in a year: This painting (completed in 2004) was inspired by these words from the gospel of John in today's lectionary:  Jesus knew that the Father had delivered all things into His hands, and that He had come from God and was returning to God. So He got up from the supper, laid aside His outer garments, and wrapped a towel around His waist. After that, He poured water ...

The second in my short series of monologues for Holy Week, tonight looking at the events in the upper room on the night before Jesus died. ‘Do you understand what I have done for you?’ he asked.  No I do not… the more time I spend with Jesus the less I understand… He is forever turning things upside down… If it’s not the temple traders’ tables, it’s the established order of things! I mean, take tonight for example… We’d all gathered to celebrate the Passover together… The lamb had been duly prepared and we were all together remembering the old, old stories of God rescuing his people from the hands of their oppressors… sharing not only the lamb, but the unleavened bread, the bitter herbs and wine… Everything was familiar, then in the middle of it he starts talking about the bread being his body, broken for us… the wine, his blood poured out for us… Andrew and John whispered about something Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptiser had said years ago, before I met Jesus, about...

It was a strange Holy Week this year… I suppose it had crept up on me unawares to a certain extent because I had been off ill in the run up to it... But the fact that it was as early as it can possibly be (and will be for the next 134 years or something like that according to someone I was talking to) also put a slightly different slant on it, as all the Easter allusions to new life and spring were a little out of sync. It began as ever with Palm Sunday and reflections about that cheering crowd waving palm leaves on the road into Jerusalem, but then the next day, there were yet more cheering crowds... this time with Shamrocks rather than palm leaves, because it was St. Patrick's Day. This sent the liturgically literate into a bit of a tailspin... Should it be a feast or a fast? But the rest of the world celebrated regardless... Actually, to paraphrase the words of Caiaphas about Jesus on Palm Sunday, and apply them to our own St. Pat, it seemed as if the whole world has gone over t...