A belated Easter thought
I had wanted to blog about this pic just before Easter…ah well…
On the Saturday before Palm Sunday, as a family we were out at a local outdoor play area, and as we left I looked back and saw this sprayed on the wall. I’ve no idea who did it, nor what their motivations might be. I don’t know who the “weak” are that it is referring to. And yet, as I saw it, I was instantly reminded, in that mysterious and holy of times, that it is the weak that God has chosen to shame the strong, and the foolish to shame the wise.
This Easter, in preparing to lead people in reflecting on the story, in watching the very excellent “The Passion” on the BBC, and in personal prayers, I have seen afresh just how inconspicuous much of what Jesus did really was. On Palm Sunday, according to Matthew’s account, the inhabitants of Jerusalem had no idea who Jesus was, it was the people from the north who knew him, who cheered as he entered as king. And whatever the scale of the event, it wasn’t enough to warrant interference from the rather touchy Roman occupiers.
In Matthew’s gospel it isn’t the turning of the money-changers tables over in the courtyard of the temple that arouses their interest and anger, but the acceptance of children’s praise later on.
Jesus, often unnoticed, gets on with establishing, strengthening and extending the kingdom of God wherever he is, and then, weak, battered and alone is raised on a cross.
Truly, the weak become heroes.
On the Saturday before Palm Sunday, as a family we were out at a local outdoor play area, and as we left I looked back and saw this sprayed on the wall. I’ve no idea who did it, nor what their motivations might be. I don’t know who the “weak” are that it is referring to. And yet, as I saw it, I was instantly reminded, in that mysterious and holy of times, that it is the weak that God has chosen to shame the strong, and the foolish to shame the wise.
This Easter, in preparing to lead people in reflecting on the story, in watching the very excellent “The Passion” on the BBC, and in personal prayers, I have seen afresh just how inconspicuous much of what Jesus did really was. On Palm Sunday, according to Matthew’s account, the inhabitants of Jerusalem had no idea who Jesus was, it was the people from the north who knew him, who cheered as he entered as king. And whatever the scale of the event, it wasn’t enough to warrant interference from the rather touchy Roman occupiers.
In Matthew’s gospel it isn’t the turning of the money-changers tables over in the courtyard of the temple that arouses their interest and anger, but the acceptance of children’s praise later on.
Jesus, often unnoticed, gets on with establishing, strengthening and extending the kingdom of God wherever he is, and then, weak, battered and alone is raised on a cross.
Truly, the weak become heroes.
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