Changing Rooms, DIYSOS, Real Rooms, Housecall, Home Front and other similar TV programmes have all placed DIY Home Improvement back on the map. Over the years, the like of Laurence Llewellyn Bowen have fingered many a fine fabric, and Hand Andy (and other hammer loving men) have drilled many a piece of MDF to the wall of some sad victim’s home – usually whilst they are away on holidays, and who return home to find their house transformed from dependable magnolia to See Breeze Blue, swirling turquoise and fake velvet wall coverings. Taste isn’t always the order of the day but time is. They are working against the clock!
In the gospel reading today we have a case of Changing Rooms. It looks like Jesus has already made some secret preparations. He already has his eye on a suitable room in which he will celebrate the Passover with his friends and followers. Everything has to be prepared and finalised, right down to the last detail. And so he sends his disciples away to some anonymous, unnamed person who has some suitable upstairs accommodation. ‘The Master says, “My time is near. It is at your house that I am keeping Passover with my disciples.”’ There is much to do. The Passover is at hand. They are working against the clock.
Jesus’ time has come – in fact his tie seems up. Judas Iscariot has already done his dirty work. His perilous preparations will take the Passover to a plane that the apostles had never imagined. There is intrigue in the room, and mush distaste, as Jesus predicts the unimaginable. One of his closest friends and followers will betray him. What bad taste! Within this room things are beginning to change. The disciples are distressed: disturbed by the thought that they could be the one to betray Jesus. Time is ticking by. The final moment is almost here.
They spend some time more with Jesus in the comfort - and discomfort - of this room, in this room where they are beginning to change and where their future dreams are changing too. They cannot, do not, stay there. At some stage, after supper, when all the talking is done, when they can stay no longer, they go out into darkness, following Jesus and then, in the confusion and chaos of Gethsemane, they disperse, disappear, scurry away like frightened mice. They cannot set their eyes on the unsightly sight before them. The cross is too much for them to take. But it is to this Changing Room that they return: back to the pots and pans and mess of a Passover Party, to try to pick up the pieces left after Jesus’ death. They are empty, broken, not half the men they used to be. The door is locked. Time stands still.
It is in this room, where so much has happened, where they have experienced so much change, that they will be changed further still, as news begins to reach them that Christ is risen from the dead. Confused even further by this message that slips under the door, they soon discover for themselves the risen presence of Jesus. Locked Doors cannot keep him out. Death does not do him in. His time has come.
Time is ticking by. The Passover is almost here. The holy three days, The Easter Triduum, is almost upon us. The Evening Mass of Maundy Thursday is almost here, as is the staggering, disturbing, ugly image of the cross on Good Friday. How will it change you? Do you dare to be changed? Time is ticking by. It is almost here. Salvation is upon us.
Wednesday 31 March 2010
Tuesday 30 March 2010
Tuesday in Holy Week
The job of bringing joy to the world is up for grabs as a newly-formed charity seeks a Director of Happiness. The successful applicant to the Movement for Happiness must have a vision of society in which people are motivated by more than just money - although, to be on the safe side, the job is ironically offering a salary of £80,000 a year.
In the Gospel reading today, Judas Iscariot seems to be motivated by money. After all, the thirty pieces of silver, which he was promised by the Chief Priests, has become a common and well known image of the cost of betrayal. Even as he leaves the gathering and slips through the door and is embraced by the darkness the other disciples think that Judas’ exit is motivated by money – or rather to use his position as treasurer of the common fund to buy all that was needed to be bought for the festival. Judas the Happy Shopper? Shopping is far from his mind.
And yet who really knows the motives of Judas? Many people have speculated about what was going through his mind, what the driving force was to his betraying Jesus. What we do know is that, ever since, his name has become synonymous with betrayal and treason. ‘It would have been better,’ said Jesus in another gospel account, ‘that he had never been born.’ Happiness escapes Iscariot.
And yet we can’t exactly say that there is a sense of happiness and joy in the room as Jesus settles down for the night with his apostles. There is much confusion and misunderstanding. Even Simon Peter receives some harsh words from Jesus. His confidence is quashed in one quick prophecy: ‘Before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.’ No one seems to be certain of themselves. No one feels really settled. Happiness seems to be slipping away from them. Even Jesus is talking about going away to a place where they cannot follow. There is something in the air. Meanwhile Judas Iscariot is about his business.
There is much about this Holy Week that does not, cannot, fill us with happiness. Yet, all of the experiences of these holy days express so much of where we are in life at times. We are often misguided, misled, misunderstood or miss the point altogether. We are unsettled, uncertain, unsure. Sometimes we seek happiness and it evades us, or we look for happiness in things that do not bring happiness at all. True happiness for us comes in accepting God's will, no matter what we have to endure. As the psalm says todays: the Lord is our refuge and strength. He is our rock and stronghold. This Eucharist then is our happy meal! Macdonalds has nothing on us!
In the Gospel reading today, Judas Iscariot seems to be motivated by money. After all, the thirty pieces of silver, which he was promised by the Chief Priests, has become a common and well known image of the cost of betrayal. Even as he leaves the gathering and slips through the door and is embraced by the darkness the other disciples think that Judas’ exit is motivated by money – or rather to use his position as treasurer of the common fund to buy all that was needed to be bought for the festival. Judas the Happy Shopper? Shopping is far from his mind.
And yet who really knows the motives of Judas? Many people have speculated about what was going through his mind, what the driving force was to his betraying Jesus. What we do know is that, ever since, his name has become synonymous with betrayal and treason. ‘It would have been better,’ said Jesus in another gospel account, ‘that he had never been born.’ Happiness escapes Iscariot.
And yet we can’t exactly say that there is a sense of happiness and joy in the room as Jesus settles down for the night with his apostles. There is much confusion and misunderstanding. Even Simon Peter receives some harsh words from Jesus. His confidence is quashed in one quick prophecy: ‘Before the cock crows you will have disowned me three times.’ No one seems to be certain of themselves. No one feels really settled. Happiness seems to be slipping away from them. Even Jesus is talking about going away to a place where they cannot follow. There is something in the air. Meanwhile Judas Iscariot is about his business.
There is much about this Holy Week that does not, cannot, fill us with happiness. Yet, all of the experiences of these holy days express so much of where we are in life at times. We are often misguided, misled, misunderstood or miss the point altogether. We are unsettled, uncertain, unsure. Sometimes we seek happiness and it evades us, or we look for happiness in things that do not bring happiness at all. True happiness for us comes in accepting God's will, no matter what we have to endure. As the psalm says todays: the Lord is our refuge and strength. He is our rock and stronghold. This Eucharist then is our happy meal! Macdonalds has nothing on us!
Monday in Holy Week
You may have seen it. Five contestants, who have never met one another, take it in turns to host a dinner party on five consecutive nights. They are competing for one thousand pounds, the winner determined by a series of anonymous scores given by the other contestants who have been entertained. On the final day, the winner is announced. The dinner party contestants are probably carefully chosen, thrown together by the producers, to create a bizarre and interesting mix of personalities to provide us with entertainment. The commentator is probably the most entertaining part of the show: casting snide remarks and comments about the food and the final outcome. Yes, this is Come Dine With Me: another Reality TV programme.
In the gospel reading, Jesus has been invited to dinner. Mary, Martha and Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead, have invited Jesus to ‘come dine’ with them. There is an interesting mix of personalities (Jesus, Mary, Martha, Lazarus, Judas Iscariot – amongst many other disciples – and even towards the end of the dinner party a large number of Jews who, on hearing that Jesus is being entertained, gatecrash the party. In time honoured fashion, as you may expect from such a dinner party, there are some strange goings on! This dinner party isn’t all it seems to be on the surface.
During dinner, Mary anoints the feet of Jesus with expensive perfume, and wipes them with her hair. This disjointed, deranged gesture is rather disturbing for those who are left to look on. There is surprise and disgust as the aroma fills the room. ‘What a waste! This money could have been used for the poor.’ Jesus responds to the Fagin-like musings of Judas Iscariot and takes the conversation to another level. He expresses what Mary meant in offering such a mad and carefree gesture: she is, says Jesus, preparing him for his burial. Suddenly, the dinner party atmosphere is disturbed. The smell of death fills the room.
Jesus, it seems, had been the life and soul of the party, a welcome guest, a longed for guest. Alongside him at table is Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead: a living sign of Jesus’ power to overcome death and bring life to the darkest and most deathly of situations. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more joyful. And now, suddenly, there is talk, not of life, but of dying and death and burial. Things are yet more sinister. The Chief Priests have death on their breath. They are determined to kill not only Jesus but also this Lazarus figure in whom so many people are interested and whose raising from the dead was causing too many people to follow Jesus. This just will not do. The smell of death fills the room.
There is controversy and danger, there is misunderstanding and intrigue, there is plotting and planning for death. At this Eucharist, Jesus invites us to come and dine with him. Expect to be comforted and cherished, expect to feel at home, expect to be able to get your feet under the table, and to be fed with finest food. But expect, too, to be disturbed and challenged and moved beyond all telling, as the death of Jesus is proclaimed. And yet there is more than just death here. Jesus takes the conversation to another level. He fills the air with sweetness. In all this talk of death there is confidence and trust in God. As the psalm today declares: ‘I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living. Hope in him, hold firm and take heart. Hope in the Lord!’ So, let the aroma of Jesus fill this place, as we move closer to the cross, preparing to celebrate Christ’s death and glorious resurrection. Here we dine with the Lord, here we proclaim his death and resurrection, here we are comforted and challenged. There are, as the gospel reading reminds us, six days before the Passover. So, eat up! There is much to do and a long way to travel. You’ll need all the strength you can get.
In the gospel reading, Jesus has been invited to dinner. Mary, Martha and Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead, have invited Jesus to ‘come dine’ with them. There is an interesting mix of personalities (Jesus, Mary, Martha, Lazarus, Judas Iscariot – amongst many other disciples – and even towards the end of the dinner party a large number of Jews who, on hearing that Jesus is being entertained, gatecrash the party. In time honoured fashion, as you may expect from such a dinner party, there are some strange goings on! This dinner party isn’t all it seems to be on the surface.
During dinner, Mary anoints the feet of Jesus with expensive perfume, and wipes them with her hair. This disjointed, deranged gesture is rather disturbing for those who are left to look on. There is surprise and disgust as the aroma fills the room. ‘What a waste! This money could have been used for the poor.’ Jesus responds to the Fagin-like musings of Judas Iscariot and takes the conversation to another level. He expresses what Mary meant in offering such a mad and carefree gesture: she is, says Jesus, preparing him for his burial. Suddenly, the dinner party atmosphere is disturbed. The smell of death fills the room.
Jesus, it seems, had been the life and soul of the party, a welcome guest, a longed for guest. Alongside him at table is Lazarus, whom Jesus had raised from the dead: a living sign of Jesus’ power to overcome death and bring life to the darkest and most deathly of situations. The atmosphere couldn’t have been more joyful. And now, suddenly, there is talk, not of life, but of dying and death and burial. Things are yet more sinister. The Chief Priests have death on their breath. They are determined to kill not only Jesus but also this Lazarus figure in whom so many people are interested and whose raising from the dead was causing too many people to follow Jesus. This just will not do. The smell of death fills the room.
There is controversy and danger, there is misunderstanding and intrigue, there is plotting and planning for death. At this Eucharist, Jesus invites us to come and dine with him. Expect to be comforted and cherished, expect to feel at home, expect to be able to get your feet under the table, and to be fed with finest food. But expect, too, to be disturbed and challenged and moved beyond all telling, as the death of Jesus is proclaimed. And yet there is more than just death here. Jesus takes the conversation to another level. He fills the air with sweetness. In all this talk of death there is confidence and trust in God. As the psalm today declares: ‘I am sure I shall see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living. Hope in him, hold firm and take heart. Hope in the Lord!’ So, let the aroma of Jesus fill this place, as we move closer to the cross, preparing to celebrate Christ’s death and glorious resurrection. Here we dine with the Lord, here we proclaim his death and resurrection, here we are comforted and challenged. There are, as the gospel reading reminds us, six days before the Passover. So, eat up! There is much to do and a long way to travel. You’ll need all the strength you can get.
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