The Church in Wales – Yr Eglwys Yng Nghymru

Benefice of Laleston & Merthyr Mawr with Pen-y-Fai

A selection of Readings, Reflections and prayers for

Holy Week

taken from Nick Fawcett’s,

‘No Ordinary Man’, Books 1 & 2 (1997 & 2000)

and reproduced under licence CCLI Licence No’s: 16251 and 2397095

PALM Sunday – HELLO I THOUGHT, WHAT’S GOING ON HERE (One of the owners of the Colt)

Reading : Luke 19: 29-40 When he had come near Bethphage and Bethany, at the place called the Mount of Olives, he sent two of the disciples, saying, “Go into the village ahead of you, and as you enter it you will find tied there a colt that has never been ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks you, ‘Why are you untying it?’ just say this, ‘The Lord needs it.’” So those who were sent departed and found it as he had told them. As they were untying the colt, its owners asked them, “Why are you untying the colt?” They said, “The Lord needs it.”

Then they brought it to Jesus; and after throwing their cloaks on the colt, they set Jesus on it. As he rode along, people kept spreading their cloaks on the road. As he was now approaching the path down from the Mount of Olives, the whole multitude of the disciples began to praise God joyfully with a loud voice for all the deeds of power that they had seen, saying, “Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord! Peace in heaven, and glory in the highest heaven!” Some of the Pharisees in the crowd said to him, “Teacher, order your disciples to stop.” He

answered, “I tell you, if these were silent, the stones would shout out.” Reflection Hello, I thought, what’s going on here?

And you can hardly blame me, for there I was, minding my own business, when suddenly these fellows I’ve never clapped eyes on appeared from nowhere and, cool as you like, started to make off with our donkey! In broad daylight I tell you… that’s what I couldn’t get over – bold as brass, without so much as a by-your-leave!

Well, you can imagine my surprise, can’t you? Hardly the kind of goings-on you expect in our neck of the woods… after all, this is a quiet, respectable village…

So I asked them straight, “hey, what’s your game? ..and that’s when they spoke those special words: “The Lord needs it”

That was it… just four simple words … “The Lord needs it”

Not even any kind of proper explanation …. but it was all I needed. …because immediately it all came flooding back for me

– that day when Jesus came by and for just a few wonderful moments, I met him face-to-face.

No, you won’t have heard about it. No, it wasn’t the sort of encounter that hit the headlines – no jaw-dropping healing or unforgettable miracle… I didn’t need these things, but Jesus touched my life as surely and as wonderfully as any, offering new direction and a fresh start from which I’ve never looked back.

Quite simply he changed my life, and though I’m not the kind of person to shout it from the rooftops I wanted to respond in some way … I wanted to show Jesus how much he meant to me, how much I valued what he’d done.

And this was my chance. The chance I’d been waiting for, my opportunity to give something back at last.

Hardly earth shattering stuff, I grant you – the loan of a donkey – but hey, that didn’t matter: the fact was that Jesus had need of me, that I could be of help to Jesus … and that was all I needed to know.

He arrived soon after, and I followed him to Jerusalem, where the crowds greeted him, wild with excitement, shouting their praises, waving their branches, throwing their cloaks down in welcome… ……and small though it had been, I knew I’d done my bit to make that great day possible.

It taught me a big lesson that day... it reminded me that no matter how little you may think you have to offer, some day, some time, your moment will come – a day when your contribution to his kingdom will be requested in those simple, lovely words….. “The Lord needs it”

Prayer Lord, we are not all called to positions of eye-catching responsibility in your service, but we do all have apart to play just the same. Whoever we are, whatever our gifts, we each have a contribution to make which you can use in fulfilling something of your eternal purpose. Teach us good Lord, to listen for your voice, and when you call to respond gladly offering whatever you ask and whenever you need it…to the glory of your name. Amen.

Monday OF HOLY WEEK - YOU SHOULD HAVE HEARD THEM Simon the Zealot Reading: Matthew 21: 1-11 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.”

This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying, “Tell the daughter of Zion, Look, your king is coming to you, humble, and mounted on a donkey, and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.” The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them.

A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting, “Hosanna to the Son of David! Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” Reflection You should have heard them!

What a noise! What a sight! What a welcome!

I’m telling you I’ve never seen the like of it, not in all my born days, and there’s been a few of those now…too many to mention in fact!

Oh, we’ve had kings here before, Governors too, even would-be Messiahs, and they’ve all had their moments, their fans out to greet them in force… but nothing like this,

nowhere near it not even close.

They came in their thousands, waiting to meet him, the news of his coming having raced ahead of him.

And it wasn’t just his followers, it was everyone. Men, women and children plucking branches from the trees, tearing off their cloaks, carpeting the road before him… their voices hoarse with shouting.

“Hosanna!” they cried. “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord”

It was treason of course, and probably heresy too, but no-one cared – darn the consequences, this was a time for rejoicing, and boy did we rejoice!

Yet if that was unusual – the happy abandonment, the free-flowing jubilation – it was nothing compared to what was to follow… for just a few days later, less than a week in fact, the scene was so very very different.

The same people by and large, once more part of a crowd, but this time not love and joy but hatred and rage in their faces: no welcome now and in it’s place rejection writ large, their waving hands now become shaking fists, their “Hosanna to the Son of David” now changed to “We have no king but Caesar”.

To be honest I would not have believed it possible if I hadn’t seen it for myself… but the sad fact is I not only saw it, in my own way I was part of the whole sorry business, for when the crisis came, I was found wanting: concerned only to save my own skin… barely a thought for Jesus as I ran….

It was a chilling lesson, and one that I, like so many others, learned the hard way – the lesson that it’s easy to call someone king, much harder to actually serve them. Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, we are good at singing your praises when life is going to plan but it is another matter when our expectations are overturned, our preconceptions challenged and our faith tested to the limit.

Yet if we are serious about calling you king, then it means accepting your authority and allowing you the freedom in which to rule our lives.

Teach us to be faithful in the good times and bad, help us to give you honour in whatever we may face, and inspire us to confess you – through word and deed – as King of Kings and Lord of Lords, to the glory of your name. Amen.

Tuesday of Holy Week – WHY DID HE HAVE TO SPOIL IT ALL? James

Reading: Matthew 21: 10-17 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.” Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves.

He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’; but you are making it a den of robbers.” The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became angry and said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read, ‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies you have prepared praise for yourself’?”

Then he left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there. Reflection Why did he have to spoilt it all?

That’s what I want to know.

It was all going so well, way beyond our expectations, until he went and ruined it.

All right, so maybe he did have to do something, maybe they were abusing the temple, making a mockery of what it was meant to be….. but couldn’t he have been more careful, more conciliatory, more diplomatic?

A quiet word in the right ears, surely that was a better way ? Perhaps even a gesture of disapproval to get the point home, even a scathing condemnation, though preferably out-of-earshot….

But this….? Overturning their tables in a fit of rage, smashing their stalls, driving out their livestock, lashing out in fury; I mean, it really was just asking for trouble – guaranteed to make enemies, and let’s face it, hardly good for his image.

A troublemaker: not a miracle worker or healer or peacemaker or teacher …a troublemaker!!! that’s what they called him after that – and can you blame them? Why couldn’t he have left things as they were?

Everybody was right behind him, ready to do whatever he asked, dancing in the streets, tearing down branches to greet him.

Oh I know a few might have turned against him, y’know once they realised what he was saying ...and what he wasn’t….

and don’t get me wrong, I also realise that there would always have been some who were determined to do him in… …. but why did he have to make it easy for them? Why invite hostility? Why refuse to compromise? I just don’t get it …and try as I might to understand (and I promise I am trying to do so) it’s just so, so hard….

If it’d been me, I’d have taken that more softly-softly route – some might say “easy” – …and despite my convictions I’d have toned it down, avoided that bare-faced confrontation, tried to keep in with those who mattered….

But I guess that’s why I’m still alive today ….. and Jesus is not.

Y’know, when I’m honest and when I look deep, deep down, I think I know

he had no other choice – at least not if he was going to be true to himself. And Jesus was always true to himself ...that much I have to give him: it’s what made him so special: it’s why I followed him in the first place, it’s why I followed him then … and it’s still why I follow him now Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, we want to be true to our convictions, to stand up for what is right…. but it’s hard to do this when the pressure is on. It’s hard not to bend when all around us disagree, it’s hard not to compromise for the sake of peace, it’s hard not to tone things down when we find ourselves in the firing line. Yet there are times when we need to stick our necks out for what we believe in, even when doing so may make us unpopular with others. Give us wisdom to know when those times are, and give us courage then to hold fast through them all. Amen.

Wednesday of Holy Week – THIRTY PIECES OF SILVER, THAT’S ALL IT TOOK One of the Priests Reading: Matthew 26: 14-16 Then one of the twelve, who was called Judas Iscariot, went to the chief priests and said, “What will you give me if I betray him to you?” They paid him thirty pieces of silver. And from that moment he began to look for an opportunity to betray him. Reading: Matthew 27: 3-5 When Judas, his betrayer, saw that Jesus was condemned, he repented and brought back the thirty pieces of silver to the chief priests and the elders.

He said, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.” But they said, “What is that to us? See to it yourself.”

Throwing down the pieces of silver in the temple, he departed; and he went and hanged himself.

Reflection Thirty pieces of silver, that’s all it took – thirty measly pieces of silver to betray his closest friend. Can you believe that? We couldn’t !

To be honest we’d expected a hundred at least, probably more, maybe a thousand… but we started low just to play safe, expecting him to haggle, see how high we’d go…

But you should have seen him! Hardly able to contain himself, eyes almost popping out of his head …he could hardly wait to get his hands on it the greedy little devil. Y’know, I think if we’d pushed it, he’d have settled for even less : but we were in no mood for playing hard to get. We might have not wanted to be generous, but this was the end of three years of scheming, three long, long, years of waiting – finally, we had our man just where we wanted him… and all for thirty pieces of silver!

Money, hey? The depths people will sink to for it, selling their very souls; it’s incredible...

it’s all around us... but it’s pathetic too.

As if anyone can really imagine it can buy them happiness!

Well, it didn’t do Judas much good, that’s for sure – just a few days later and here he was again, crawling over our doorstep, actually expecting sympathy.

“I’ve been a fool” he told us. “Betrayed an innocent man”… and he tried to give us the money back – well, he was far too late : it was no good having scruples now: the damage was done – at least it was from his point of view… and there was no going back – Jesus was done for: it was all over bar the shouting.

Y’know, we couldn’t have undone his actions even if we’d wanted to (which we didn’t) … and if we’re truthful, we kind of found some strange delight in watching Judas squirm. It served him right, that’s how we saw it, even if he had done us a huge favour.

Anyway, we told him to get lost eventually

– he’d made his bed and now he could lie in it.

Only, he couldn’t… not now. Having seen what we were doing, he couldn’t live with himself… couldn’t carry on in the knowledge of what he’d done.

I heard that he hanged himself – good riddance as far as we were concerned… but there is an odd twist – a really odd twist to it all: just one small detail that keeps on gnawing away at me: something I am really struggling to make sense of….. …for that night in the garden when Judas betrayed Jesus – with a kiss of all things – do you know what Jesus said to him?

“Friend, do what you are here to do.”

Friend ! Friend ! God’s truth that’s what he said.

Well, with friends like that who needs enemies, that’s all I can say… but Jesus… well, maybe Jesus would say something different.

You see, I gather that Jesus knew what Judas was up to – and still he called him “friend” I understand that Jesus saw right through Judas

– and still he had time for him.

It’s a total mystery to me – but that was Jesus wasn’t it ... he was mysterious when he was with us too … seemingly powerless and yet totally unmoved, surrounded by fury and tempest, yet calm… seemingly possessed of a peace which I cannot fathom, cannot understand even in the face of accusation and the ominious spectre of death…

Yes, that moment in the garden is bugging me, it makes no sense … but Jesus was mysterious to the end

Y’know it may sound daft, but if Jesus has made it to that heavenly kingdom he was always talking about, I actually think he’ll have found room there, even for Judas Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, It’s easy to condemn Judas – the man who let you down, the man who, with so much going for him, threw it all away.

Yet in our hearts we know we have no right to judge. Each day in so many ways, we betray you,

we betray ourselves, we betray our loved ones.

We say one thing but do another. We talk of high ideals but we fail to reach them. We mean well, but we act foolishly. Lord Jesus Christ, save us from judging others, lest we too be judged. Amen.

Maundy Thursday 1) HE COULDN’T MEAN ME, SURELY? Philip Reading: Mark 14: 17-25 When it was evening, he came with the twelve. And when they had taken their places and were eating, Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, one of you will betray me, one who is eating with me.”

They began to be distressed and to say to him one after another, “Surely, not I?” He said to them, “It is one of the twelve, one who is dipping bread into the bowl with me. For the Son of Man goes as it is written of him, but woe to that one by whom the Son of Man is betrayed! It

would have been better for that one not to have been born.” While they were eating, he took a loaf of bread, and after blessing it he broke it, gave it to them, and said, “Take; this is my body.”

Then he took a cup, and after giving thanks he gave it to them, and all of them drank from it. He said to them, “This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many.

Truly I tell you, I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”

Reflection He couldn’t mean me, surely? ….that’s what I kept telling myself – one of the others perhaps, but not me, please not me.

I would stay true, if nobody else did, dependable to the last, someone he could stake his life on if he needed to….. Yet, could he?

Deep down, despite my protestations, I wondered, for, to tell the truth, I was scared out of my wits, dreading what the future might hold for us.

It was suddenly all too real, the prospect of suffering and death, those warnings Jesus had given no longer simply words we could push aside, but now facts ...staring us in the face.

His enemies were gathering for the kill, like vultures circling overhead in the desert, greedily waiting their moment… and it was only a matter of time before they came for the rest of us too.

We’d kept on smiling until then, putting a brave face on things as best we could, if not for his sake, then maybe for our own. But suddenly, there could be no more running away, for in that stark sentence Jesus spelled out the awful truth: “one of you will betray me.”

Of course we protested, vehement in our denials …and yet, one by one we looked away – unable to hold his gaze, his eyes gentle and loving as ever and yet seeming to pierce right to the very depths of our souls.

It wasn’t me, I’m glad – almost relieved – to say..

but of course, you’ll know that by now, won’t you?

It was Judas who finally couldn’t take it, Judas whose name will go down in history as the one who betrayed Jesus.

Yet somehow that doesn’t quite tell the story: somehow that doesn’t help... because the truth is that when the moment came, we were all found wanting, all more concerned for our own safety than his.

Maybe we didn’t betray him, but don’t think we’re feeling smug about it, still less like twisting the knife in Judas, for that moment – there in that upper room – made us all take a long hard look at ourselves: and we didn’t much like what we saw. Prayer Merciful God, being honest with ourselves is not easy, for sometimes – maybe often – we prefer to keep things hidden rather than face disturbing truth.

Occasionally we may glimpse our darker side, but we push it away, attempting to deny its existence even to ourselves,

but the knowledge of our weakness is always there, lurking in the shadows.

Help us, then, to open our hearts before you and acknowledge our faults, in the knowledge that you gave your Son for us while we were yet sinners.

Cleanse, redeem, renew, restore, and by your grace, help us to come to terms with the people we are, so that one day we might become the people you made, and would have, us to be: we ask this through Jesus Christ, your Son, our Lord. Amen. ========================= Maundy Thursday 2) HE WAS UNSURE OF HIMSELF Peter Reading: Luke 22: 39-46 He came out and went, as was his custom, to the Mount of Olives; and the disciples followed him.

When he reached the place, he said to them, “Pray that you may not come into the time of trial.”

Then he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, knelt down, and prayed, “Father, if you are

willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done.” Then an angel from heaven appeared to him and gave him strength. In his anguish he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down on the ground. When he got up from prayer, he came to the disciples and found them sleeping because of grief, and he said to them, “Why are you sleeping? Get up and pray that you may not come into the time of trial.” Reflection He was unsure of himself... for the first time I’d ever seen, maybe for the first time in his entire life, he was unsure: unsure of his ability to face the future …and it hurt him more than the pain he was eventually to suffer.

You see, there’d never been any doubt until then, never even the slightest suggestion of hesitation. Despite the hostility, the resentment, the abuse from so many, he’d set his face resolutely towards Jerusalem, knowing from the very beginning, exactly where it would end.

He understood it all,

the pain and humiliation he must suffer, conscious of it even way back in those heady days of his baptism, and yet he’d carried on willingly, the prospect seeming to hold no fear for him, and we’d marvelled at the faith, the love, the courage of the man, the sheer commitment which gave him such awesome strength and inner purpose. But suddenly, that evening, it was all so different: a shadow blotting out the light which had shone so brightly.

I saw despair in his eyes, rather than hope, fear rather than laughter, sorrow rather than joy …and most terrible of all, that desperate look of uncertainty, so alien, so devastating, so crushing a burden.

It was all suddenly too real, no longer a theory...but now a fact – the agony and the isolation he was about to face – and, like any of us would in his place, he wanted to back away… wanted to find an easier course…

wanted to see, even to seek, a less dreadful option.

It struck me then, as never before, that he didn’t know what lay beyond death... at least not any more than I did.

Of course he’d always believed, always trusted – but he had no more certainty than you and me – only the assurance of faith, the conviction borne of trust, and there in the darkness, as the chill of night took hold, it all hung on a thread as he wrestled with the torment of doubt.

I know what I’d have done if I’d been jesus – quite simply I wouldn’t have stopped running until Jerusalem was just a bad memory.

But not him, not Jesus.

He stayed, quietly, in the garden as I (and perhaps others) knew he would…

and he offered not just his faith to God but his doubt to God – “not my will but yours be done”.

Well, he was sure of just one thing after that – there was no way back…

and death had become a cast-iron certainty: but it wasn’t dying itself that was the problem for him, it was not knowing whether it would all be worth it, whether it could actually make a difference to this wretched world in which we live … and there was no way of answering that for certain – at least not this side of eternity.

Jesus was unsure – of himself, of his faith, of his ability to face the future – but despite it all he risked everything, offering life itself so that we might know the truth and be free from death – free for all eternity. Prayer Loving God, you call us to live by faith, not by sight, to put our faith in things unseen rather than seen, and for much of the time we are actually able to do that.

But occasionally we are faced with circumstances which cause us to doubt, throwing a shadow over everything we believe. We question our ability to keep going, we wonder what is happening to us,

and though we look to you for assurance, we do not find it as we would want it.

Help us, when such moments come, to know that you have been there before us in Jesus, and that you understand what we are facing. Inspire us through the faith and courage he showed, and so help us to trust in your purpose even when we cannot see the way ahead. We ask these things in his name. Amen.

Good Friday 1) I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE MY LUCK Barabbas Reading: Mark 15: 6-15 Now at the festival Pilate used to release a prisoner for them, anyone for whom they asked. Now a man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder during the insurrection. So the crowd came and began to ask Pilate to do for them according to his custom. Then he answered them, “Do you want me to release for you the King of the Jews?” For he realized that it was out of jealousy that the chief priests had handed him over.

But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to have him release Barabbas for them instead. Pilate spoke to them again, “Then what do you wish me to do with the man you call the King of the Jews?” They shouted back, “Crucify him!” Pilate asked them, “Why, what evil has he done?” But they shouted all the more, “Crucify him!” So Pilate, wishing to satisfy the crowd, released Barabbas for them; and after flogging Jesus, he handed him over to be crucified. Reflection I still can’t believe my luck, still after all this time, I still can’t believe that I got off that day ……scot-free.

What on earth possessed the mob to let me off the hook and send Jesus to the cross? I could live to be a hundred and y’know I’ll never make sense of it.

Alright, so I wasn’t a follower of his – my way more one of force than persuasion – but even I couldn’t help being impressed by the man.

He was so clearly innocent, any fool could see that – a good man, through and through, sincere, gentle, honest, refusing to compromise his convictions despite the torment they put him through – the very idea of him inciting a revolt ….was frankly laughable.

OK maybe he had stirred up the crowd’s expectations through his signs and wonders, allowed them to believe he was the promised Messiah, but what of it? Messiah’s are three-a-denarii in our time and he was hardly a revolutionary was he? – not in the sense that I wish he’d been anyway… rebellion, ha, rebellion was the last thing on his mind. …………I knew it.…and they knew it too.

So why turn against him? Why hand him over to the enemy, to be butchered like a common criminal, and let me, a known trouble-maker, wriggle off the hook?

It just didn’t add up. Yet that’s exactly what they did – and the strange thing is, he made no attempt to defend himself, no attempt to expose the ludicrousness of the charges or explain the true nature of his claims…

You might almost have thought he wanted to die, the way he acted. Not that I’m complaining – I wouldn’t be here now had things worked out differently – only I can’t help wondering sometimes what went on that day: can’t forget that look he gave me when our eyes met silently in all that tumult…. and it became clear what was happening – that I would go free, and that he would pay the penalty for my wrongdoings…. Y’know sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether there wasn’t more going on that day than anyone other than Jesus realised…. Whether there was some hidden force at work.

Make no mistake,

it should have been me instead of him: to be honest it should have been anyone rather than a man like that, but it wasn’t – he suffered the punishment I deserved, and by some strange twist, his death bought my freedom… it’s a mystery …. isn’t it? Prayer Gracious God, we have no claim on your love, for we know that there is little or no good in us, nothing deserving of your mercy.

Yet through Jesus Christ, you have endured the punishment which should have been ours, you have paid the penalty for our sins and carried the burden which should have been laid on our shoulders.

By his wounds we are healed, by his love made whole, by his death we are given life. There are no words to express our debt to you, yet you ask nothing more than that we receive the gift you have given. Gracious God, we come again and we give you thanks for the wonder of your grace and the depth of your love…

through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. ============================= Good Friday 2) IT WAS DARK Centurion at the foot of the cross

Reading Luke 23: 44-49 It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, while the sun’s light failed; and the curtain of the temple was torn in two. Then Jesus, crying with a loud voice, said, “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Having said this, he breathed his last. When the centurion saw what had taken place, he praised God and said, “Certainly this man was innocent.” And when all the crowds who had gathered there for this spectacle saw what had taken place, they returned home, beating their breasts. But all his acquaintances, including the women who had followed him from Galilee, stood at a distance, watching these things. Reflection It was dark, so very, very dark, like the dead of night – as black as sin some would say!

Nothing strange in that, of course, except that it was noon, the sun having blazed out of a cloudless sky just a moment before!

Up until then it was simply another ordinary day. The usual routine executions to get through, and we’d watched impassively as the latest batch of ne’er-do-wells had suffered in the heat, crying out for water as they squirmed and writhed in agony.

Did I feel anything for them? Not a thing! You get used to the screams after a time – but there was something about one of them this time which couldn’t help but catch my attention, for there was a calmness about him, even – you might say – an air of authority which left me flabbergasted, unable to believe quite what I was seeing.

He was in a terrible state, his back an ugly mass of lacerations where the whip had bitten into him, and blood oozing from his head, his hands, his feet; yet some, it seemed, felt even then that he hadn’t endured enough. They mocked, insulted, rebuked, tormented him, more than enough to make any man return their curses,

yet – can you believe this – I heard him with my own ears cry out asking God to forgive them. Amazing!

And when he died, it was more uncanny still, for I’d swear that as he drew his final breath there was a look of triumph in his eyes, for all the world as though he believed that ghastly death of his had some meaning, some hidden purpose – heaven only knows what that could have been!

Yet it was the darkness which got to me most, the way – without warning – literally out of the blue, that the skies closed in as he hung there, and a cold and eerie hush seemed to cover the world.

Coincidence some called it, but not me: I saw enough to convince me that this man was special, innocent without question, almost you might say …. The Son of God.

It’s not like me to say that, I’m not a sentimental type – no time usually for all that nonsense – but as I watched the man suffer, and when I saw him finally die, it was then that the light went out for me too.

Suddenly the world seemed more black than it had ever seemed before. It was dark…… so very, very dark.

Prayer Living God There could hardly have been a darker time than that day when Jesus hung on a cross. Hatred, resentment, prejudice and fear combined to do their worst, and as your Son suffered there in agony, as they cut him down and laid him in a tomb, they seemed to be triumphant.

Living God, there could hardly have been a brighter time than that day when Jesus hung on a cross. Love, forgiveness, acceptance and peace combined to do their best, and as your child writhed there in torment, as he cried out and breathed his last, they won the final victory.

Living God, on this of all days, you showed us that to you, even the darkness is as light and the night as day.

Help us to live every moment in that assurance, knowing that whatever we may face, your love will continue to shine; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Good Friday 3) IT WAS OVER Mary Magdalene

Reading: John 19: 25, 28-30 Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus knew that all was now finished, he said (in order to fulfill the scripture), “I am thirsty.” A jar full of sour wine was standing there. So the soldiers put a sponge full of the wine on a branch of hyssop and held it to his mouth.

When Jesus had received the wine, he said, “It is finished.” Then he bowed his head and gave up his spirit.

Reflection It was over, finished – thirty three years of life, three years of ministry, seven days of turmoil, six hours of agony….finally ended – and I couldn’t believe it.

Yes, I know that sounds daft, After all I stood there and watched him die, I saw them drive the nails into his hands, I watched the spear thrust in his side, And I witnessed his dying breath. What else did I expect, you may quite rightly ask? What other outcome could there have possibly been?

And I do understand that, unreal as it may have seemed, impossible as it was to fully comprehend, I had known he was dying… of course I had.

And yet, when it finally happened, when the end came I was just ….numb: unable to take it in, incapable of comprehension… and paralysed with grief.

It just didn’t seem possible that this man Jesus, whom we’d known and loved, whom we’d trusted and followed…. the man who’d been the very centre of our lives, could have been taken from us; snuffed out – never to be seen again.

And it wasn’t as if he hadn’t prepared us, you could never accuse him of that! In fact he’d spoken of death until we were sick and tired of hearing it. And we honestly thought we were ready, that we’d taken it all in, come to terms with the inevitable… braced even steeled ourselves to face the worst.

But we hadn’t, not when it came to the crunch. The theory was one thing of course:

but the reality was something quite different.

I realised as we stood there, the tears rolling down our faces, our hearts torn in two, that somehow we had always expected him - even in the final chapter to come up smiling: you know, to put one over on those wretched Pharisees and to show them who really was the boss.

But of course it wasn’t like that… it was nothing like that.

It was over, it was finished. And all of it just as he had said it would be … and I simply couldn’t get my head around that – I couldn’t make sense of it at all.

But there’s one thing I’ve held on to since that awful, dreadful moment; one memory which has brought comfort even in the darkest of hours, and that is his last words, words that he cried with such dreadful yet confident finality.

“It is finished” he shouted “It …… is …… finished”

Words spoken not in sorrow, nor defeat, nor in anger or weary resignation…

but words spoken in a tone of sheer thanksgiving: as though somehow, even here... maybe especially here – he had accomplished the very thing he came to do. Prayer Lord Jesus, living as we do in the light of easter, we can lose sight sometimes of the darkness of Good Friday.

But for those who were part of it, there could be no mistake, no escaping the awfulness of seeing you hanging there upon that cross. For them it was their darkest hour, what seemed like an end to all their dreams, and for a time their faith swung in the balance.

Yet even there, especially there, you were at work, bringing your love to all.

Lord Jesus, teach us that even when life seems dark, your light continues to shine. Amen.

Holy Saturday IT WAS THE LEAST I COULD DO Joseph of Arimathea

Reading: Matthew 27: 57-60 When it was evening, there came a rich man from Arimathea, named Joseph, who was also a disciple of Jesus. He went to Pilate and asked for the body of Jesus; then Pilate ordered it to be given to him. So Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen cloth and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had hewn in the rock. He then rolled a great stone to the door of the tomb and went away. Mary Magdalene and the other Mary were there, sitting opposite the tomb.

Reflection It was the least I could do, the very, very least.

And yes, I should have done more; I know that, there’s no need to rub it in.

I ought to have spoken out before the Council, begged them to reconsider, publicly declared my faith.

I should have told Pilate of their perjury, pleaded with him to show mercy, explained the sort of kingdom Jesus was talking about.

But I didn’t, did I ?

I didn’t say anything, just watched and listened; I didn’t do anything, just kept my own counsel;

I skulked in the shadows, observed from the outside, bit my tongue…. and let them crucify the Messiah.

Could it have been any different? Would my intervention have changed anything?

I doubt it, not given the mood they were in – his fate was sealed long before he was arrested and no-one was going to rob them of their prize.

Yet although I keep on telling myself these things, vainly attempting to excuse my silence… it doesn’t help. For in my heart I know I failed him.

When the chance was there to declare my allegiance, I chickened out: when the moment came to make my stand, I was afraid. My concern was all for me…. and none for him.

OK, so maybe it is understandable… maybe you also would have most likely done the same – but that’s not the point.

It’s me we’re talking about, me who will have to live with the knowledge of my failure until my dying day, and so that’s why I’ve acted now, offering my tomb to provide for his burial. It’s not much, I realize that, a bit like shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted…. but it’s all that was left – some small way in which I can make amends.

A token gesture? You may be right.

A feeble attempt to salve my conscience? Most probably… but I hope it’s something more.

You see I’ve had enough of hiding, enough of this closet discipleship, enough of this faith that’s afraid to call its name.

So I’ve thrown caution to the wind and nailed my colours to the mast.

It may yet cost me my position: I feel sure it’s going to cost me my friends… it may even cost me my life;

but if Jesus could willingly sacrifice all that for me who deserves so little; then surely I can do something for him who deserves so much.

Prayer Lord Jesus Christ, all too often we let you down, failing to offer you the commitment you deserve, failing to declare our faith when the opportunity presents itself. The intention is there, but when the moment comes though the spirit is willing, the flesh is weak. Lord Jesus Christ, like Joseph of Arimathea, we know we have repeatedly failed you, but teach us that it is never too late to make amends, never too late to see our mistakes and never too late to offer our response. Amen.

The Benefice of Laleston & Merthyr Mawr

with Pen-y-Fai

Readings, reflections and prayers extracted from Nick Fawcett, No Ordinary Man, Books 1 & 2 (1997 & 2000)

reproduced under licence CCLI Licence No’s: 16251 and 2397095