......................The Diocese of Norwich ‘Sunday Hope’ Podcast
Passion Sunday, the Fifth Sunday of Lent – 29 March 2020
The Rt Revd Alan Winton, Bishop of Thetford:
Welcome to my study in Herfast House in Wymondham for the second of these special Sunday Podcasts. We’re joined from her home in North Walsham by Canon Susanna Gunner who has written and will read the prayers. Susanna will also do our Bible reading.
Events are moving fast and having a huge impact on most of our lives. So much of the fabric of our day to day existence, that we simply take for granted, has been rearranged, so much has changed in a matter of days. It’s hard to take it all in.
On top of this, the church building to which we might have turned is now closed: a ready source of comfort and stability is no longer available. But we are being urged to remember that the church is not just a building. The building may be closed but the church remains active and we are finding new ways of being church for these unprecedented times.
This short podcast is one of those new ways of being church and worshipping God together. It contains a reading, a homily, some questions to ponder, and prayers.
You might like to press pause now and light a candle as we help ourselves become more conscious that we are in God’s loving presence.
The Lord be with you.
The Collect for Passion Sunday.
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 your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Reading
Our reading today is a few verses from John chapter 11, the long passage where the fourth evangelist describes the death of Jesus’ friend Lazarus. Jesus delays his coming, but then is met by Martha and reveals himself to be the Resurrection and the Life. In verses 32-35, we hear of the moment when Mary comes to meet Jesus.
When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus began to weep.
Homily
So much that can appear contradictory is held together in this powerful 11th chapter of John’s Gospel, much as our lives and our experience of faith’s journey are rarely neat and uncomplicated.
On meeting Martha on the road we hear the next of those great “I am” sayings of Jesus, that run through this Gospel: “I am the Resurrection and the Life”. When the journey appears to be coming to an end, Jesus is the one in whom a new beginning is always possible, out of the deepening darkness he is always able to bring light and life.
But then we hear of Jesus encountering Mary and her fellow mourners and in response to their grief at the death of Lazarus he weeps. Jesus wept, the shortest verse, but one charged with such emotion and such significance. The one who knows himself to be the Resurrection and the Life weeps tears of compassion. Hope and grief are companions, side by side.
Even the one who embodies hope of new life discovers for himself that hope does not save us from the dreadful pain of loss. It is not a betrayal of the gospel for us to acknowledge the pain we’re feeling at all that has been lost in the space of just a few weeks. For some it is the cherished pattern of our daily lives, for others it may be the loss of someone we have loved. Be assured that Jesus weeps tears of compassion with you.
What, I think, Jesus’ tears do, as all expressions and acts of compassion do, is cut through the loneliness and feelings of isolation that grief can force upon us. When we experience loss, the effect is often brutal. We feel cut off, alone. All that has connected us to those around us can be swept away: loss creates a gulf.
Jesus’ tears of compassion can form a bridge across that gulf. They can cut through the isolation and separation and remake the connection, and thereby ease some of the pain.
There are many people living with anxiety and fear, people suffering real pain and loss at what has been taken away from them. It’s our natural instinct to go to them, to stand alongside them, to shed tears of compassion with them. But we are forbidden by our current circumstances from doing just that.
How can we do as Jesus did when he went to the home of his friend, to comfort his grieving sisters, shedding tears of compassion with them?
In a moment of inspiration, we were encouraged on Thursday evening to stand outside our doors to applaud our health workers.
So we should pray for the Holy Spirit’s inspiration to find new ways of bridging the gulf that pain and loss create with the people around us.
We should pray for the grace to find other ways of showing that we stand alongside those who are suffering.
Of course, Jesus’ compassion didn’t end with his tears. The one who is the Resurrection and the Life brought light and hope and life to Lazarus, Mary and Martha, and he is the same Lord in whom we find our light, our hope and our life today.
Questions for Reflection
· When we feel that God delays in coming to us, might it be that he is already with us, waiting for us to turn to him?
· How can we show our compassion for others when we cannot go to them?
· If you lit a candle at the start of this service, sit quietly for a moment and contemplate God’s promise that the darkness will never overcome the light.
Prayers
Let us pray:
Jesus, you wept at the tomb of Lazarus, your friend:
weep now with us,
join our lament for all that is lost
and stay close to the dying and grieving.
Jesus, you shared with Martha the astounding truth
that you are Resurrection, that you are Life:
give us, too, the grace to hear this truth,
to relearn its meaning in these testing times,
to live our altered lives in its power.
Jesus, out of the premature ending of life,
out of inconsolable grief,
and out of a closed tomb
you brought to Lazarus and his sisters a new beginning:
embolden us to look for this same holy newness today,
awakening us to your presence in the midst of death.
Amen
Tender and compassionate God,
we hold in your loving protection
all who strive to limit the effects of COVID- 19 -
politicians and scientists,
farmers and food suppliers,
all who are caring for the sick,
supporting the vulnerable,
encouraging the isolated
and consoling the bereaved.
As we thank you for them,
and acknowledge with gratitude the army of volunteers mobilising to help,
we ask that each of us may be led by your Spirit to play our own part
in bringing into this darkness the light of Christ.
Amen
Let us pray together as our Saviour taught us:
All: Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done;
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory
for ever and ever.
Amen.
Blessing
The peace of God which passes all understanding,
Keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God,
And of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,
And the blessing of God Almighty,
The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,
Be with you and with all those whom you love,
This day and for evermore. Amen.
..........................................................................................................................
Passion Sunday, the Fifth Sunday of Lent – 29 March 2020
The Rt Revd Alan Winton, Bishop of Thetford:
Welcome to my study in Herfast House in Wymondham for the second of these special Sunday Podcasts. We’re joined from her home in North Walsham by Canon Susanna Gunner who has written and will read the prayers. Susanna will also do our Bible reading.
Events are moving fast and having a huge impact on most of our lives. So much of the fabric of our day to day existence, that we simply take for granted, has been rearranged, so much has changed in a matter of days. It’s hard to take it all in.
On top of this, the church building to which we might have turned is now closed: a ready source of comfort and stability is no longer available. But we are being urged to remember that the church is not just a building. The building may be closed but the church remains active and we are finding new ways of being church for these unprecedented times.
This short podcast is one of those new ways of being church and worshipping God together. It contains a reading, a homily, some questions to ponder, and prayers.
You might like to press pause now and light a candle as we help ourselves become more conscious that we are in God’s loving presence.
The Lord be with you.
The Collect for Passion Sunday.
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 your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever. Amen.
Reading
Our reading today is a few verses from John chapter 11, the long passage where the fourth evangelist describes the death of Jesus’ friend Lazarus. Jesus delays his coming, but then is met by Martha and reveals himself to be the Resurrection and the Life. In verses 32-35, we hear of the moment when Mary comes to meet Jesus.
When Mary came where Jesus was and saw him, she knelt at his feet and said to him, ‘Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.’ When Jesus saw her weeping, and the Jews who came with her also weeping, he was greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved. He said, ‘Where have you laid him?’ They said to him, ‘Lord, come and see.’ Jesus began to weep.
Homily
So much that can appear contradictory is held together in this powerful 11th chapter of John’s Gospel, much as our lives and our experience of faith’s journey are rarely neat and uncomplicated.
On meeting Martha on the road we hear the next of those great “I am” sayings of Jesus, that run through this Gospel: “I am the Resurrection and the Life”. When the journey appears to be coming to an end, Jesus is the one in whom a new beginning is always possible, out of the deepening darkness he is always able to bring light and life.
But then we hear of Jesus encountering Mary and her fellow mourners and in response to their grief at the death of Lazarus he weeps. Jesus wept, the shortest verse, but one charged with such emotion and such significance. The one who knows himself to be the Resurrection and the Life weeps tears of compassion. Hope and grief are companions, side by side.
Even the one who embodies hope of new life discovers for himself that hope does not save us from the dreadful pain of loss. It is not a betrayal of the gospel for us to acknowledge the pain we’re feeling at all that has been lost in the space of just a few weeks. For some it is the cherished pattern of our daily lives, for others it may be the loss of someone we have loved. Be assured that Jesus weeps tears of compassion with you.
What, I think, Jesus’ tears do, as all expressions and acts of compassion do, is cut through the loneliness and feelings of isolation that grief can force upon us. When we experience loss, the effect is often brutal. We feel cut off, alone. All that has connected us to those around us can be swept away: loss creates a gulf.
Jesus’ tears of compassion can form a bridge across that gulf. They can cut through the isolation and separation and remake the connection, and thereby ease some of the pain.
There are many people living with anxiety and fear, people suffering real pain and loss at what has been taken away from them. It’s our natural instinct to go to them, to stand alongside them, to shed tears of compassion with them. But we are forbidden by our current circumstances from doing just that.
How can we do as Jesus did when he went to the home of his friend, to comfort his grieving sisters, shedding tears of compassion with them?
In a moment of inspiration, we were encouraged on Thursday evening to stand outside our doors to applaud our health workers.
So we should pray for the Holy Spirit’s inspiration to find new ways of bridging the gulf that pain and loss create with the people around us.
We should pray for the grace to find other ways of showing that we stand alongside those who are suffering.
Of course, Jesus’ compassion didn’t end with his tears. The one who is the Resurrection and the Life brought light and hope and life to Lazarus, Mary and Martha, and he is the same Lord in whom we find our light, our hope and our life today.
Questions for Reflection
· When we feel that God delays in coming to us, might it be that he is already with us, waiting for us to turn to him?
· How can we show our compassion for others when we cannot go to them?
· If you lit a candle at the start of this service, sit quietly for a moment and contemplate God’s promise that the darkness will never overcome the light.
Prayers
Let us pray:
Jesus, you wept at the tomb of Lazarus, your friend:
weep now with us,
join our lament for all that is lost
and stay close to the dying and grieving.
Jesus, you shared with Martha the astounding truth
that you are Resurrection, that you are Life:
give us, too, the grace to hear this truth,
to relearn its meaning in these testing times,
to live our altered lives in its power.
Jesus, out of the premature ending of life,
out of inconsolable grief,
and out of a closed tomb
you brought to Lazarus and his sisters a new beginning:
embolden us to look for this same holy newness today,
awakening us to your presence in the midst of death.
Amen
Tender and compassionate God,
we hold in your loving protection
all who strive to limit the effects of COVID- 19 -
politicians and scientists,
farmers and food suppliers,
all who are caring for the sick,
supporting the vulnerable,
encouraging the isolated
and consoling the bereaved.
As we thank you for them,
and acknowledge with gratitude the army of volunteers mobilising to help,
we ask that each of us may be led by your Spirit to play our own part
in bringing into this darkness the light of Christ.
Amen
Let us pray together as our Saviour taught us:
All: Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done;
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory
for ever and ever.
Amen.
Blessing
The peace of God which passes all understanding,
Keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God,
And of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord,
And the blessing of God Almighty,
The Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit,
Be with you and with all those whom you love,
This day and for evermore. Amen.
..........................................................................................................................
The Bishop of Norwich has recorded a special podcast from the chapel at Bishop's House in Norwich as we mark Mothering Sunday. This is the first episode of a new weekly podcast by and for the Diocese of Norwich called 'Sunday Hope'.
MOTHERING SUNDAY 2020
INTRODUCTION
Hello and welcome to the chapel at Bishop’s House in Norwich as we mark Mothering Sunday.
Life feels so strange at present. Things are out of kilter, including our emotions, and there is sorrow that our churches are closed for public worship. Very many churches are, however, open for private prayer. Yet the Church is the people of God, and we are being Church right now, just in a different way.
This short podcast contains a reading, reflection, some questions to ponder, and prayers. You might like to press pause and light a candle as a symbol of God’s presence with us.
That’s what I’m going to do now, before I pray the Collect for Mothering Sunday.
COLLECT
God of love,
passionate and strong,
tender and careful:
watch over us and hold us
all the days of our life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
READING
Now, Sally Theakston, my chaplain, will read from the 19th chapter of John’s Gospel.
Standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.
HOMILY
In the chapel here at Bishop’s House is an icon of Mary holding the new-born Jesus who is bound in swaddling bands.
In fact, I know the icon rather well. I am no artist, but I painted it during a week long course at the Bethlehem Icon School. Icon painting follows strict rules and it’s a copy of a Byzantine icon, with all the flaws that I brought with my unsteady hand and a brush of egg tempera paint.
Mary has a serene look of tenderness. Jesus is looking up at her. A mother’s eyes and love looking out at us, magnifying the love that is radiant in Jesus’ eyes.
This icon, for me, conveys hope, prayerfulness, kindness and loving service to the other. All aspects of what mothers do. That is certainly true of my own experience.
Our reading took us to the end of Jesus life. Rather than being bound by swaddling bands, Jesus is bound to the cross with rope and nails. Now Mary can’t hold Jesus. She can’t touch him. What agony that must have been for a mother.
At this current time, when we are asked not to shake hands, not to embrace, for fear of passing on the virus, there is a solidarity with this scene at the foot of the cross. Many of us will be wishing we can reach out to our mothers today and hug them.
Jesus reaches out to touch the hearts of his mother and his beloved disciple, John. He brings them together. He is always wanting to put people in touch with each other. He’s assuring the protection of a woman who will be vulnerable with perhaps no one else to support her.
Jesus looks forward to ensure that Mary and John will bring hope to each other. John, we are told, took Mary into his home – a place where prayer and kindness were lived out. An example of loving service.
The Church too, though we are learning to be the Church in different ways during these weeks and months, continues to be the people of God who live out our calling to be people of hope, to be people of prayer, to be people of kindness, and to be people of loving service.
And that is also true, I hope, wherever we find ourselves this morning.
QUESTIONS TO PONDER
I offer three questions that you might like to ponder. If you are gathered to pray with someone else, you might like to discuss these together.
PRAYERS
As children of a loving God who always listens to our cries,
let us pray to our Father in heaven.
Creator God, like a mother, you brought us to life
and our being is bound with yours,
hold us firm with your cords of love;
Crucified God, like a mother, you know us better than we know ourselves,
enfold in your peace those for whom this Mothering Sunday will bring pain;
Comforter God, like a mother, your voice soothes us when we are in distress,
help us to find a deep stillness within the chaos and to listen to you. Amen
Nurturing God, tender and compassionate,
you long to mother us in these unsettling times:
draw near, we pray, to those who are isolated and alone,
calm the anxious and comfort the distressed.
As your Son, hanging on the cross,
reached out to those in despair below him,
may we too, guided by your Spirit,
seek out the lonely and the lost
and respond with imaginative and loving service
to those in need around us.
Amen
Let us pray together the Lord’s Prayer:
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come; thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory
for ever and ever. Amen.
BLESSING
And now we pray for God’s blessing.
May the Father from whom every family
in earth and heaven receives its name
strengthen us so that Christ may live in our hearts,
and the blessing of God almighty,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
be among us, and with all whom we know and love,
this and every day. Amen.
MOTHERING SUNDAY 2020
INTRODUCTION
Hello and welcome to the chapel at Bishop’s House in Norwich as we mark Mothering Sunday.
Life feels so strange at present. Things are out of kilter, including our emotions, and there is sorrow that our churches are closed for public worship. Very many churches are, however, open for private prayer. Yet the Church is the people of God, and we are being Church right now, just in a different way.
This short podcast contains a reading, reflection, some questions to ponder, and prayers. You might like to press pause and light a candle as a symbol of God’s presence with us.
That’s what I’m going to do now, before I pray the Collect for Mothering Sunday.
COLLECT
God of love,
passionate and strong,
tender and careful:
watch over us and hold us
all the days of our life;
through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
READING
Now, Sally Theakston, my chaplain, will read from the 19th chapter of John’s Gospel.
Standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’ Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’ And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.
HOMILY
In the chapel here at Bishop’s House is an icon of Mary holding the new-born Jesus who is bound in swaddling bands.
In fact, I know the icon rather well. I am no artist, but I painted it during a week long course at the Bethlehem Icon School. Icon painting follows strict rules and it’s a copy of a Byzantine icon, with all the flaws that I brought with my unsteady hand and a brush of egg tempera paint.
Mary has a serene look of tenderness. Jesus is looking up at her. A mother’s eyes and love looking out at us, magnifying the love that is radiant in Jesus’ eyes.
This icon, for me, conveys hope, prayerfulness, kindness and loving service to the other. All aspects of what mothers do. That is certainly true of my own experience.
Our reading took us to the end of Jesus life. Rather than being bound by swaddling bands, Jesus is bound to the cross with rope and nails. Now Mary can’t hold Jesus. She can’t touch him. What agony that must have been for a mother.
At this current time, when we are asked not to shake hands, not to embrace, for fear of passing on the virus, there is a solidarity with this scene at the foot of the cross. Many of us will be wishing we can reach out to our mothers today and hug them.
Jesus reaches out to touch the hearts of his mother and his beloved disciple, John. He brings them together. He is always wanting to put people in touch with each other. He’s assuring the protection of a woman who will be vulnerable with perhaps no one else to support her.
Jesus looks forward to ensure that Mary and John will bring hope to each other. John, we are told, took Mary into his home – a place where prayer and kindness were lived out. An example of loving service.
The Church too, though we are learning to be the Church in different ways during these weeks and months, continues to be the people of God who live out our calling to be people of hope, to be people of prayer, to be people of kindness, and to be people of loving service.
And that is also true, I hope, wherever we find ourselves this morning.
QUESTIONS TO PONDER
I offer three questions that you might like to ponder. If you are gathered to pray with someone else, you might like to discuss these together.
- What do you most treasure about your experience of your own or other peoples’ mothers?
- Can you imagine Mary in John’s home? What might they have talked about?
- Who are the most vulnerable or lonely in your community who you might be in touch with this week?
PRAYERS
As children of a loving God who always listens to our cries,
let us pray to our Father in heaven.
Creator God, like a mother, you brought us to life
and our being is bound with yours,
hold us firm with your cords of love;
Crucified God, like a mother, you know us better than we know ourselves,
enfold in your peace those for whom this Mothering Sunday will bring pain;
Comforter God, like a mother, your voice soothes us when we are in distress,
help us to find a deep stillness within the chaos and to listen to you. Amen
Nurturing God, tender and compassionate,
you long to mother us in these unsettling times:
draw near, we pray, to those who are isolated and alone,
calm the anxious and comfort the distressed.
As your Son, hanging on the cross,
reached out to those in despair below him,
may we too, guided by your Spirit,
seek out the lonely and the lost
and respond with imaginative and loving service
to those in need around us.
Amen
Let us pray together the Lord’s Prayer:
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come; thy will be done
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory
for ever and ever. Amen.
BLESSING
And now we pray for God’s blessing.
May the Father from whom every family
in earth and heaven receives its name
strengthen us so that Christ may live in our hearts,
and the blessing of God almighty,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
be among us, and with all whom we know and love,
this and every day. Amen.
