THE HINGE OF HISTORY

 

THE HINGE OF HISTORY

Countries, businesses and organisations search for a logo to announce, in a simple sign, who they are. It could be a coat of arms, a traditional emblem or a modern eye-catcher. The fish eagle (Zimbabwe), the harp (Ireland) or two ellipses in the form of a cross (Toyota) are examples.

Mention of a cross brings to mind the Christian faith and the climax of our annual remembrance of it is about to begin. The shadow of the cross falls heavily over Holy Week. It is one of the simplest logos imaginable - an upright and a crossbar - and yet this sign is the hinge on which life hangs. In every situation, the door leading to life either opens for us or shuts. It depends on whether we choose the cross or avoid it.

The gospels make it dazzlingly clear from the outset – ‘this child is destined to be a sign that is opposed’ (Lk 2:34) – and throughout his life - ‘the Son of man is destined to be rejected’ (Mk 8:31) – that the cross is the thread running through the whole mission of Jesus. It is the yeast that gives his whole life – and ours – flavour. If I choose to forgive, I may find it a great struggle but I will discover a  deep freedom within me. I will be like a person who has let down a great burden they are carrying. Phew! That was heavy but now I have let it go.

It is simple! No, it certainly is not. But we have chosen the cross and it has set us free. The cross of Jesus is the hinge of history on which everything hangs. All the events, from the beginning of creation, either open the way for us or block it.

Edith Stein died, aged fifty, in a gas chamber in Auschwitz in 1942. Though brought up in a strict Jewish family, she was not religious. But she was a seeker and turned to philosophy for answers. Inspired by Edmund Husserl, she made huge progress and became a renowned philosopher in her turn. But she remained restless in her search. One evening, in a friend’s house, she came across the life of Teresa of Avila and read it throughout the night. Delighted, she knew she had found the treasure she sought and was baptised. She continued to teach but her heart drew her to a total self-giving and she entered the Carmelites. When the Nazis sought out the Jews to exterminate them, she was swept up into the darkness but in her deepest being she knew she was following Jesus to the cross and she rejoiced.

Palm Sunday        2 April 2023        Is 50:4-7     Ph 2:6-11     Mt 26:14ff

 THE CROSS

The Christian faith is utterly simple and yet it has layers of meaning we have no capacity to understand now. ‘If a person has been granted the power to behold the truth, then all that their senses perceive is for them nothing more than the ultimate extremity, jutting into this dark world, of another world infinitely more real than this’ (Hugo Rahner). What we are capable of experiencing is only a faint taste of what is yet to be revealed.

People often express their thanks for the ‘gift of life’ and clearly that is the greatest thing about us. We are alive. I am. One of the earliest experiences of a child is to smile; to recognise their mother, their father. It is the first moment of relationship. But then we know life does not flow in a beautiful sequence of never-ending good experiences. Sooner or later, there is limitation, frustration, anger. In a word, opposition.

What we are invited to do in Lent is recognise there is another word for opposition: the cross. We are not to use this word lightly, as a negative nuisance in our lives; something to be avoided, ignored and, if possible, eradicated. True, if I have a tooth ache, I need to do something about it soonest. But if we change the word ‘opposition’ to ‘opportunity’, we reach a point, we already know this, that opposition is also a crisis, a moment of decision. How do I respond? And I will grow insofar as the choice I make is according to the true way of life or not.  All creation comes to fulfilment in the cross because it stands for the moment of decision. When faced with the cross I can become truly myself – or I can run away from myself. Two images celebrate this: one is the Carthusian motto: Stat crux dum volvitur orbis, the cross stands (as the fixed point of creation) while the world swirls around (intent on its own agenda).

The other image, perhaps comveying the same idea, is Salvador Dali’s Salvator Mundi, Saviour of the World, (the painting here) which shows the cross brooding over the world much as the spirit brooded over creation (Gen.1:2).

From the beginning of the Christian era, we have recognised that the cross is not just the great event in the life and mission of Jesus; it is above all the central event of the whole of world history – the make or break event of humanity. When I wear a cross around my neck, it is not for decoration, still less a talisman. It is an expression of a commitment to make the kind of choices Jesus made, choices that give life, even if they lead, in the short run, to Calvary.

 

CINDERELLA – AN ADULT CHILDREN’S TALE

 

CINDERELLA – AN ADULT CHILDREN’S TALE

Once upon a time there was a little girl called Cinderella. Her mother was very ill and before she died, she called Cinderella and encouraged her to be patient and kind.

She then died and the father married another woman who had two daughters. Both the step-mother and her daughters made life miserable for Cinderella who used to go to her mother’s grave to cry and pray.

The king decided to hold a party for his son, the prince, so that he could meet many girls and choose one as his princess. The stepmother and her daughters went to the party but they left Cinderella at home. She was sad and cried as no one seemed to be kind to her.

Then she had a vision of a kind god-mother coming to her and giving her a beautiful dress and shoes and providing a carriage to take her to the party. But she warned that everything will go back to normal at mid-night.

Cinderella wondered if she was dreaming; but she got into the carriage and went to the party. When the prince saw her, he was delighted and went to her and they danced together the whole evening. But when the clock started to ring twelve times to show it was midnight, Cinderella remembered the words of the god-mother and ran out of the party losing her shoe as she went.

The prince ran after her but she was gone. But he saw the shoe and determined to search for the one whose foot the shoe fitted. He went from house to house but no girl’s foot fitted the shoe.

Eventually he came to Cinderella’s house and tried the shoe on first one of the step-sisters and then the other. But the shoe fitted neither of them. He asked the step-mother if there were any other girls in the house and the stepmother was reluctant to tell him of Cinderella. But eventually she had to.

The shoe fitted her foot perfectly and the prince knew this was his beautiful princess. He took her away and married her and later they became king and queen and lived happily ever after.

This is a story which has been told in different ways in different places for thousands of years; how the poor, the weak and the sad can suddenly become transformed.

In the gospel we have just read, Peter, James and John who, up to that time were confused and afraid, were thrilled, delighted, by what they experienced on the mountain. They could not believe that Jesus could be transformed into this dazzling being.

Jesus revealed himself to them in this way to give them a glimpse, a taste, of what they too would become. They, and we, will one day become something beyond our imagining.

But first, like Cinderella at midnight, they had to come down from the mountain and enter into everyday life again where they would try to be patient and kind. Bu they do so with the knowledge that they will soon be transformed into something beautiful.

Jesus was particularly keen they should understand this as he would soon enter into his own terrible struggle and humiliation on the cross. This world is a cruel place, as Cinderella knew, but it is God’s world and he is transforming it day by day through our struggles.