Empty

It is said that less is more.

I was tempted to leave this blog blank and let you discover its emptiness, as if someone had swiped it in the night, removed each phrase and each letter until empty.

On the way to Jerusalem, the 'Hoshana' entry, some of the Pharisees demanded that Jesus rebuke his disciples for attesting to him being the one sent by God. Jesus' response
                                    
                                          'if they keep quiet the stones will cry out'

Some things cannot be silenced
Some things need to be shouted out, proclaimed.
Some secrets are impossible to keep
Some things cannot be contained

It was the stone that spoke that first Easter morn, before the women arrived with their spices, before Peter and John ran there and discovered the... emptiness.

It was that stone tomb, hewn from the rock, that spoke first, that cried out.

With echoes it reverberated its plaintive cry
       He is not here
       He is not here
       He is not here
An echo that reverberates through history to this very day and beyond
       He is not here
       He is not here
       He is not here

Waiting over
                    Risen
                            Empty

Waiting

What is it we wait for?

Holidays and special treats
           Christmas day and end of term, anniversaries
                   Waiting for payment by benefit cheque,
                              a new settee, or TV or Wii
Waiting for the light of a bus on a dark winter's eve
Waiting for bed and longing for sleep
Waiting for spring or the dawn of the day
Waiting.

Or are we

Waiting for something beyond our control
        For the pain to stop, for the anguish to cease
                For the face of a loved one we'll not see again
For the call that we know will bring us heart-breaking news
Waiting for justice in the bleakest, dark place
Waiting
Waiting for... the end


What happens when we feel there is no longer any hope in waiting?

The cock has crowed,
         the kiss applied,
               the smell of nard, of defeat, of death, is still in the air.
When the day is dark, with no hope in sight.When we think 'it is finished'

Is there any point in...

Waiting

Crux

There were many possible turning points, occasions for U-turns, or changes of heart on the way to the Crux. Yet there comes a point when there is no longer a choice, a tipping point has been reached and there is no longer any possibility of turning back, maybe this is the crux.

When the Roman machine is in full swing
When religious authorities have planted seeds of doubt in the masses
When the kiss of a friend betrays you as the one
When cocks crow and hands are washed
When crowds whose lips had days before cried 'Hoshana' now scream 'Barrabas' and 'crucify'
When the whips lash and the nails bite into flesh and bone and a wooden crux is lifted and landed into its base with all of the ordinariness of another execution.


What were Isaiah's prophetic words:

'he was pierced for our transgressions,  he was crushed for our iniquities;the punishment that brought
us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed... led like a lamb to the slaughter'

There is purpose in this, there is a shape and a pattern, this pain, this sacrifice means something. An ultimate expression of love, nailed to a tree, in the shape of a crux. From this day and forever more their can be... No turning back.

Yet is this not a turning point?
A pivotal moment?

The Crux