When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight. They said to each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he was talking to us on the road, while he was opening the scriptures to us?” That same hour they got up and returned to Jerusalem; and they found the eleven and their companions gathered together. They were saying, “The Lord has risen indeed, and he has appeared to Simon!” Then they told what had happened on the road, and how he had been made known to them in the breaking of the bread. (Luke 24:30–35)

This Easter Lord Jesus
you walk with us
not on the road to Emmaus
but through every emotion
and question
and cry of despair
You listen without dismissal
carefully holding
all that we share.
This Easter, Lord Jesus
we recognise you
not in breaking of bread in our sanctuaries
but at every table
where families gather
forced together
or kept apart
and in every means we have
of maintaining relationships
and of staying connected
You continue to surprise us
Risen Lord
Turning up when we least expect you
in places we would never imagine
May the light of resurrection
Pierce the darkness in us
and in our world today.

Thank you to Liz Crumlish for sharing this Easter thought, which comes from Living through Lent, the booklet of reflections that we introduced in this Ash Wednesday post, and which you can still download at this link.

Reflecting on a year of COVID restrictions in Scotland

Remembering
the wave of disbelief
and the stunned silence
The grief
and lament
The resignation
and helplessness
The shock of furlough
– surplus to requirement
in an institution
focused on survival

Remembering
the mounting fear
as death tolls rose
The longing to be able to do more
than make a difference
by staying home
and the low grade anxiety
that began low in the belly on waking
and lodged in the throat on sleeping

Remembering
the deniers
and the conspiracists
the pontificators
and the optimists
all of whom made the work of  scientists
and out of their depth governments
all the more difficult

Remembering
the hope snatched away
by a second wave
crushing already beleaguered services
affecting a less compliant populous
being rekindled
by the whisper
of vaccine potential
into a hope reborn 

Oh to share the indictment of Maya Angelou
“When we know better, we do better”
Sadly, I wonder…
What have we learned?
And will our learning make any difference?
Will it make a difference
to the marginalised
to those on the edges
to “the least of these”
whom we are called to love and to serve?
Or, as is often the way,
Will those in power
tell the story
through rose tinted glasses
of a nation that fought
and won the fight
papering over the cracks
of dissension and division
of incompetence and pride
ignoring the long shadows that remain
trumpeting resilience
and “building back better”
as the tools with which to move forward?

Remembering …
And sitting with the grief
so that the loss and sacrifice
of so many
and the ongoing trauma and suffering
is not swept aside
as we move forward
but is carefully woven
into the fabric
of our communities
not only as dark threads
but also as bright and vivid streaks
startling reminders
held aloft
carried with us
into the compassionate future
that we craft together.

This reflection by our friend Liz Crumlish is used by permission, and comes from her blog, which you can follow at this link.