Palm Sunday 2020

Sunday 5 April 2020: Palm Sunday

Today, we meet from our own homes, at 10.30 a.m. via Zoom meeting ID: 664-485-330. You’ll also need a password code, which you can get from Revd Andrew Dowsett in advance by calling or texting him on 07783-760-012.

Today, churches traditionally parade with palms. This year will be very different. We have provided a palm cross for you. If you can get outside for daily exercise, you might like to go for a ‘palm procession prayer walk’ around the neighbourhood at some point today. If you can’t, you might do so in your mind’s eye.

As we come to worship at a familiar time, if not a familiar building, you might like to light a candle, a reminder that Christ the light of the world is with us. Take a moment to still yourself. We then begin with the Prayer of Preparation, which reminds us that God knows our desires—to join with others today, if we could; to receive bread and wine, which, physically, we cannot; to be of service to our neighbour…

Prayer of Preparation

Almighty God,

to whom all hearts are open,

all desires known,

and from whom no secrets are hidden:

cleanse the thoughts of our hearts

by the inspiration of your Holy Spirit,

that we may perfectly love you,

and worthily magnify your holy name;

through Christ our Lord.

Amen.

Now we come to Confession, confessing our need for God. We confess for ourselves, and on behalf of our neighbours; and receive God’s mercy. Doing so is the antidote to judging others in anger.

‘Kyrie’ Confession

God be gracious to us and bless us,

and make your face shine upon us:

Lord, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.

May your ways be known on the earth,

your saving power among the nations:

Christ, have mercy.

Christ, have mercy.

You, Lord, have made known your salvation,

and reveal your justice in the sight of the nations:

Lord, have mercy.

Lord, have mercy.

Absolution

The Lord enrich you with his grace, and nourish you with his blessing;

the Lord defend you in trouble and keep you from all evil;

the Lord accept your prayers, and absolve you from our offences,

for the sake of Jesus Christ, our Saviour.

Amen.

Now we pray the Collect, the prayer for this Sunday.

Collect prayer for today

True and humble king,

hailed by the crowd as Messiah:

grant us the faith to know you and love you,

that we may be found beside you on the way of the cross,

which is the path of glory.

Amen.

Having prepared ourselves, we listen to God’s word to us, and respond in conversation.

Reading          Philippians 2:5-11

Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,

who, though he was in the form of God,

did not regard equality with God

as something to be exploited,

but emptied himself,

taking the form of a slave,

being born in human likeness.

And being found in human form,

he humbled himself

and became obedient to the point of death—

even death on a cross.

Therefore God also highly exalted him

and gave him the name

that is above every name,

so that at the name of Jesus

every knee should bend,

in heaven and on earth and under the earth,

and every tongue should confess

that Jesus Christ is Lord,

to the glory of God the Father.

Gospel reading           Matthew 21:1-11 and 26:14-27:66

Traditionally, we have had two readings from the Gospels on Palm Sunday: the Gospel of the Palms at the beginning of the service, and the long telling of the Gospel of the Passion. We would encourage you to read this longer passage, Matthew 26:14-27:66, in your own time today, or over the coming days. For now, we shall hear the Gospel of the Palms, from 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 fulfil 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.’

How does it feel to be emptied, to be humbled?

(How) have we seen Jesus come to us, in these days, in unexpected ways?

How might we make do with whatever is to hand to proclaim him our king this day? What creative ways can we come up with between us? Might we colour-in paper palms and place them in our window, cut leaves from our garden to decorate our house, make leaf-shaped biscuits to share with family, read a story*?

*In A.A. Milne’s The House at Pooh Corner, ‘Chapter Six in which Pooh invents a new game and Eeyore joins in’, the donkey Eeyore is bounced into the river and can only wait until he is rescued. A good story to revisit in isolation today, about finding simple pleasure in life, and finding ourselves bounced into unexpected situations.

What is Jesus directing us to do today?

Having heard and received God’s word to us, we join in affirming our shared faith.

Affirmation of Faith

Let us declare our faith in God.

We believe in God the Father,

from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named.

We believe in God the Son,

who lives in our hearts through faith, and fills us with his love.

We believe in God the Holy Spirit,

who strengthens us with power from on high.

We believe in one God;

Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Prayers of Intercession

We take time to pray for the needs of the world, the life of the Church, our community, and all those on our hearts this day.

Today, we are not able to receive bread and wine physically, but we receive them spiritually, if we desire to do so (remember the Prayer of Preparation). And so we take a moment to do so, saying the Post Communion Prayer.

Post Communion Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ,

you humbled yourself in taking the form of a servant,

and in obedience died on the cross for our salvation:

give us the mind to follow you

and to proclaim you as Lord and King,

to the glory of God the Father.

Amen.

As we conclude, receive this blessing:

May the Father,

who so loved the world that he gave his only Son,

bring you by faith to his eternal life.

Amen.

May Christ,

who accepted the cup of sacrifice,

in obedience to the Father’s will,

keep you steadfast as you walk with him the way of the cross.

Amen.

May the Spirit,

who strengthens us to suffer with Christ,

that we may share in his glory,

set your minds on life and peace.

Amen.

And the blessing of God almighty,

the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,

be among you and remain with you always.

Amen.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

In the name of Christ. Amen.

Common Worship: Services and Prayers for the Church of England, material from which is included in this service, is copyright © The Archbishops’ Council 2000.

Common Worship: Times and Seasons, material from which is included in this service, is copyright © The Archbishops’ Council 2006.

Maundy Thursday 2018

Exodus 12:1-14 and John 13:1-17, 31b-35

I’m struck by what Jesus does at the Last Supper; because it is the very opposite of what he is supposed to do. And I don’t mean a rabbi taking the role of a servant.

Did you catch the instructions for how to eat the Passover meal? “Grab your coat; tie your laces; get that grub down your neck! Come On!” It’s like breakfast on any given weekday in my house.

But what does Jesus do? Takes off his coat; gets everyone to take off their shoes. Waits while Peter has a little stand-off—that’s just like it is in my house, too—and slows the eating right down.

Why?

I want to suggest that Jesus isn’t (just) enacting the last meal before departure, but (also) the first meal after arrival at the destination. The meal that lies beyond the road through the Sea of Death that will give way to let God’s people through; that lies beyond the generation of eye-witnesses dying before they see the fulfilment of their hope. The meal that will be eaten in the Promised Land: the call to live differently from all the surrounding peoples, in such a way that God is glorified.

When you get there—when you arrive home—you hang your coat on the hook, kick off your shoes, and sit round the kitchen table drinking wine and telling stories late into the night. And you do the freely-engaged work of treating others with dignity, as those who are no longer slaves.

Jesus says, do what I have done. Remind one another of what you have been set free from—and of what you have been set free for. And then live as if we were already there. Live in such a way that pulls the future into the present.

Wednesday of Holy Week 2018

Isaiah 50:4-9a and Hebrews 12:1-3 and John 13:21-32

His father was dying, he told me, and his mother and sister had had such a strong disagreement over how best to assist him that they were no longer speaking to one another.

Most people wish to die free from pain. And we can go a long way towards freeing the dying from physical pain. Emotional suffering is a somewhat harder matter. It is not unusual for the dying to feel shame, at ‘failing’ their families not through what they have done (that would cause guilt, not shame) but because in their very being they are not ‘enough’ (whatever that might be) to keep living. It is also not unusual for those who are bereaved to feel shame, over their inability to ‘get over’ their loss (though no one ever gets over loss; but learns to inhabit a differently-shaped life) or sometimes because of broken relationships among the survivors. Sometimes we are left feeling shame, that stains deeper than guilt, because of how we acted towards a loved one in their final days, or because of shaming words spoken over us by others from the place of their own grief.

Isaiah knew the life-taking ways of shame, and shaming, and shouted-back into the gale, ‘and I know that I shall not be put to shame; he who vindicates me is near.’ The writer of the letter to the Hebrews (who may have been Priscilla, the only female author in the New Testament) had these words to say about shame: ‘let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus the pioneer and perfecter of our faith, who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame’.

Last night, I confessed to being arrested by the question, how does the way in which Jesus approaches his death help us to approach our own? Last night, we thought about something he did for himself, and tonight at something Jesus did for those closest to him. In our Gospel reading, we see Jesus put shame to shame. Did you notice how, in his dealing with Judas, the eye-witness John recalls, ‘Now no one at the table knew why he [Jesus] said this to him [Judas—or Satan, who had entered into him?]’? Jesus is concerned that none of his disciples will have to live with shame: not even his betrayer.

If the fast-working antidote to guilt is forgiveness, the life-long antidote to shame is honour, expressed through intimacy extended and freedom respected. Jesus honours us, by inviting us to his supper and by respecting our freedom to walk away. Whom might we need to honour, before it is too late, before we come to the hour of our death?

Tuesday of Holy Week 2018

Isaiah 49:1-7 and John 12:20-36

‘He made my mouth like a sharp sword, in the shadow of his hand he hid me; he made me a polished arrow, in his quiver he hid me away.’ (Isaiah)

‘After Jesus had said this, he departed and hid from them.’ (John)

Jesus knew that the time for him to die was drawing very near. Of course, as Christians we believe that his death has, somehow, resulted in spiritual life for us. But this year I have been struck by something else. I find myself arrested by the question, how does the way in which Jesus approaches his death help us to approach our own? Because we will all die; and death is always with us, however hard the society we live in tries to ignore that. Tomorrow, I want to consider something Jesus does for those closest to him. But tonight, I want to consider something Jesus does for himself. At the end of our Gospel reading we heard that Jesus hid himself away. He wasn’t hiding from death, or hiding from God, but hiding from the crowd. Hiding from all the people who wanted more from him, hiding from the distraction, hiding in preparation for the work that only he could do, the work of his death.

And while your death and mine will not result in the salvation of humankind, our death is also a work the Father has for us, through which he may be glorified. A work no one else can do for us, and in which they can accompany us only so far.

What does it feel like to withdraw, to pull away from family and friends—perhaps to pull away from this congregation—to turn from living to dying? In a sense, only those who have done so know. Some have drawn apart through serious illness, only to be given their life back again: their time to die had not yet come. Others have gone before us into the glory of God’s presence: you may call them to mind.

It is right and proper, of course, to visit the dying. There are other aspects of the work of death that must be attended to: giving and receiving forgiveness; expressing love, and thanks; saying good-bye. To enable the place of hiding is not the same as abandoning someone to face death alone. Yet, this being hidden in the shadow of God’s hand is part of the process by which our dying participates in the victory over death. Following Jesus, may we release one another into that mystery. And if we should find ourselves drawn by the Spirit to the hidden place, may we find Jesus there hiding with us, prized possession of our heavenly Father.