REFLECTIONS FOR FEBRUARY 2015         PETER MILLAR

                                      petermillarreflects.blogspot.co.uk

THE WEEKS OF LENT – A TIME TO PAUSE

On the evening of Ash Wednesday, the dawning of Lent, I found myself in the extraordinary and mysterious beauty of the medieval Rosslyn Chapel (founded 1446) near Edinburgh. I have known this world famous place of prayer since childhood. Over recent years it has been magnificently restored and thanks, at least in part, to Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code is one of most visited places in Scotland. On Ash Wednesday the Chapel was lit with literally dozens of candles – reminding me powerfully of its complex  history and of the thousands of people who have spent time there - seekers and believers alike.

But I was also thinking of many other things as I worshipped in that sacred space on Ash Wednesday. Of the close and faithful friends I have lost in recent weeks; of my elder son serving as commander of the current British force aiding the Iraqi military in its war against Islamic State; of the thousands who are suffering unimaginable violence and oppression in many countries; of the young people travelling from Europe and elsewhere to join terrorist groups because they believe God is calling them to do that; of the way in which our own political system has become so meaningless to millions of people; of  why the word “security” now dominates so much of our thinking; of the huge benefits of the UK’s National Health System so often derided; of thousands around me here in Scotland struggling to make ends meet or find a job…..and so it went on. And in the stillness I wondered - not for the first time! - what God must make of His world and of the human race, created in love.

And then I thought of words in a hymn written by Shirley Erena Murray who I had the privilege of meeting some years back in her New Zealand home. Her words do not provide easy answers to the many things in our minds at this time.  Rather they invite us to place our often bewildered thoughts about the world and God in a wider perspective. That perspective of God’s wisdom, patience, tears and healing about which places like Rosslyn Chapel remind us. None of us walks alone. We are held. Here are Shirley’s words:

God weeps at love withheld, at strength misused, at children’s innocence abused, and, till we change the way we love, God weeps.

God cries at hungry mouths, at running sores, at creatures dying without a cause, and, till we change the way we care, God cries.

God waits for stones to melt, for peace to seed, for hearts to hold each other’s need, and, till we understand the Christ, God waits.
 
As we approach the real and lasting hope of Easter, may we be able to pause for a moment each day and ask God to make our own life an instrument of love and peace upon the earth.

***** Murdoch MacKenzie who died in Edinburgh on February 3rd was one of these close friends in my thoughts on Ash Wednesday. In 1978 I had the privilege of following Murdoch as minister of St Andrew’s Church in the heart of the great city of Madras (now Chennai) in South India. He was a truly global person, a person of prayer at home in many cultures and who passionately believed not only in Christian unity but also that the oppressed and marginalised of this world have so much to teach us about what it means to be a loving human being. In Britain, Murdoch was recognised as a wise, ecumenical leader and until the very end of his life people across the world sought his advice and valued the compassion which companioned it. In his death the British churches have lost a visionary leader but also a humble, loving man who sought to follow Christ each day.  ( If you would like to know more about Murdoch’s life please Google: The Scotsman: Murdoch Mackenzie, Obituary.)

*****  Some words from Donald Eadie a friend in Birmingham. These are from an introduction to a book I wrote in 2011 with Neil Paynter – “We Journey In Hope: reflections on the words from the Cross”. Donald’s thoughts are so relevant for Lent…..

“The Last of the Just is a remarkable novel by Andre Schwarz-Bart. According to Jewish tradition, thirty-six men, ‘the Lamed-waf’, are born to take the burden of the world’s suffering upon themselves. The old Jewish tradition tells of a figure that keeps appearing within history. The form of the figure is tragic and yet therein lies the mystery. The one who is pain-bearer is also the one through whom liberation, healing, hope and life are released. The book concludes with the story of a figure wandering among the Jews of Europe heading for Auschwitz in 1943.

A friend tells of the time spent in Belfast and of listening to women, Catholic and Protestant, whose husbands, sons, neighbours and friends had been killed, wounded, imprisoned during the Troubles in Northern Ireland. ‘So this is the cross that you carry?’ she said to the women. It became clear that after all this time, through all the suffering, these women had never made a connection between their own pain-bearing and the cross-bearing of Christ. And that remains the case for many of us. We simply do not make the connection.”

***** A prayer in the Celtic tradition from David Adam…

From the flowing of the tide to its ebbing: from the waxing of life to its waning: of Your peace provide us: of Your light lead us: of Your goodness give us: of Your grace grant us: of Your power protect us: of Your love lift us: and in Your arms accept us from the ebbing of the tide to its flowing: from the waning of life to its waxing.
 
***** Recent Booklets:

A MOMENT TO PAUSE: thoughts for any time of the day or night - by Katherine Rennie and Peter Millar.     WE NEVER WALK ALONE: reflections for the good days and bad days – by Peter Millar. Suggested donation for the booklets is £4.00. They are available from The Iona Community Shop, Isle of Iona, Argyll PA76 6SN. Shop phone no is: 01681 700404.