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“We had hoped…”
The Revd. Prof Jennifer Strawbridge and the Revd. Dr Steve Nolan explore the place of hope in times of despair. They reflect on the Road to Emmaus and how it speaks to us today.
“But we had hoped…” The words of two of Jesus’ disciples to a stranger on the road to Emmaus.
In times of grief and disappointment, there is one thing left to cling to; that thing is hope.
The Revd. Professor Jennifer Strawbridge of Mansfield College, Oxford and the Revd. Dr Steve Nolan, Chaplain at Princess Alice Hospice, lead a reflection on where we find hope in times of despair.
They explore Jesus' appearance to his two disciples on the Road to Emmaus and how that encounter speaks to us today.
Producer: Katharine Longworth
Last on
Sun 26 Apr 2020
08:10
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Sunday Worship- “We had hoped…”
This script cannot exactly reflect the transmission, as it was prepared before the service was broadcast. It may include editorial notes prepared by the producer, and minor spelling and other errors that were corrected before the radio broadcast.It may contain gaps to be filled in at the time so that prayers may reflect the needs of the world, and changes may also be made at the last minute for timing reasons, or to reflect current events.
MUSIC – The Lord is my Shepherd – John Rutter
Hearts that burn with hope demand to be shared. The road to Emmaus is not an easy road. It is a lonely road, heavy with grief and despair. Yet on this road we are never alone. On this road the love of Christ is around us and within us, setting our hearts on fire with hope and love.
JENN INTRODUCTION
Good morning and greetings from the Northway Estate in the parish of Old Headington in the city of Oxford. This parish is the home of St Andrew’s Church, a thriving site of worship for more than a thousand years, and of the John Radcliffe Hospital, the major research hospital in Oxford. Both are beacons of hope in this troubled time, offering hope and cure for the soul and the body.
The theme of our service is the road to Emmaus: the road on which two disciples began walking in despair and found themselves face to face with the risen Lord. It is a story that moves from hopelessness to hope and one that speaks into this Easter Season as we, with those disciples, celebrate resurrection hope and, as our first him reminds us know that ‘he is near us…with us evermore’. This is a presence needed more than ever as we find ourselves in the midst of a global pandemic.
As the Emmaus road invites Christians across the world to gather around word and sacrament, this morning we are invited with those first disciples to know Christ in our midst. For even in our isolation, the story of Christ’s unconditional love, forgiveness, and constant presence unites us. An in this unity we sing to Jesu who here’s our call from day to day.
HYMN: Alleluia! Sing to JesusSt Michael’s Singers
Let us pray. Lord Jesus, walk with us this day and let us know your presence, that hearts which know no peace may know your peace, hearts which have no hope may be filled with your hope, and hearts that despair may burn with the fire of your love. Amen.
I’m joined in this service by the Reverend Dr Steve Nolan, Chaplain at Princess Alice Hospice, who recorded from the Hospice earlier this week.
STEVE: On the Road Together
The idea of ‘travelling with’ or ‘journeying with’ is very familiar to healthcare chaplains.
We’re used to meeting people at a particular point in their life and illness, and journeying with them for a while.
Often the path we walk together is not easy but it’s made bearable by knowing that the person’s treatment will be curative and that they will leave the hospital and return to their normal life.
But other times, the path leads to a very different place, where the ending is not so positive, and we walk it together both knowing where it will end.
That was the path that I walked with Alun.
When I met him, shortly after his admission to Princess Alice Hospice, Alun (not his real name) was in pain and very anxious.
I got to know Alun during the weeks he was in the hospice. The path he walked was physically and emotionally demanding.
Alun’s family visited him every day and were very supportive. But he had things on his mind that were too painful for him to share with them. This made his path very lonely.
Alun had been responsible for breaking up his marriage. Years later, the pain of his divorce had faded and his relationship with his children had survived and was strong. But Alun still felt guilty. He longed for forgiveness but found it difficult to ask for the thing he needed – from his children, from his God or from himself.
Like the two disciples walking the lonely road to Emmaus, Alun and I both needed to have our eyes opened for us to see loving presence of God in his life.
In the weeks we journeyed together, Alun came to trust me enough to share more of his story and, in particular, he spoke of his fear that he would die without finding forgiveness.
On the day of our final conversation, I held Alun’s hand as we spoke about his dying and about what might come after. I reminded Alun that his family were with him, loving and accepting him – forgiving him.
And in those few, sacred moments, we both recognised that the God from whom Alun had for so long felt separated had actually been walking with us all along the way.
Psalm 121 picks up this theme and reminds us that, wherever we are, wherever we go, God is with us, even in ways we may not realise. The psalm is read for us by my colleague, Junior Adjepong, of the Facilities staff at Princess Alice Hospice.
READING 1 Psalm 121
Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills— from where will my help come?2 My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.4 He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade at your right hand.6 The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.8 The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.
MUSIC: Be thou my vision Lucy Bunce
STEVE: Introduction to the Gospel Reading
The road to Emmaus is short. Luke tells us it’s only seven miles. The two disciples who left Jerusalem that first Easter Sunday morning had probably walked that way many times. They knew well how long the journey would take them; but they had no idea how far they were to travel spiritually before the day was over.
Joined by a stranger, they were unaware that God was being revealed to them. But the revelation didn’t come in a blinding flash – it rarely does. It came in the simple, everyday act of breaking bread; God in the everyday.
My colleague, Keetje Gull, Head of the In-Patient Unit (IPU) at Princess Alice Hospice, reads from the Gospel of Luke.
READING 2: The Road to Emmaus Luke 24:13-35 (NRSV)
13 Now on that same day two [disciples] were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “ What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?”
28 As they came near the villa ge to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.
JENN: Hopes Dashed
The gospel passage we just heard contains some of the most heart-breaking and realistic words in all of Scripture: ‘But we had hoped.’ We have just encountered two little known disciples – Cleopas and an unnamed companion – discussing, perhaps like many of us these this past month, their lives and hopes and how they have been changed and crushed in the events that have taken place. For these disciples, Jesus, who they thought was their Lord, was crucified and with his death, their hope for redemption and restoration has died as well. Moreover, the tomb of this hoped-for saviour is empty, his body is gone, and while rumours are flying around that he is alive, they have seen nothing to suggest this is true and they are going home. They are sad, confused, and hope-less and they have no idea that the stranger to whom they pour out their story – the only one who seems to be unaware of this great drama – is their risen Lord.
This isn’t the most upbeat account of the resurrection. There is no mention of joy, no alleluias, no cries of ‘my Lord and my God’ as they recognize the Lord. Only the words, ‘but we had hoped’, linger in the air. But so much is contained in those four words which speak of a future that is now irrelevant. And pain stems not only from the tragedy of what has happened, but the empty space of all that could have happened but won’t. ‘But we had hoped’ are words that speak to each of us still. Not because we enjoy wallowing in dark and sentimental emotions, but because they are true. But we had hoped to celebrate Easter with our communities in person. But we had hoped not to get ill. But we had hoped to be so productive in our isolation. But we had hoped not to feel lonely. But we had hoped we could do more to help. But we had hoped for one final hug. But we had hoped infuses our days and our lives in ways big and small.
And yet, because we are human and like to be in control, we do our best to gloss over these moments of disappointment or failure. Even with this story on the road to Emmaus, more often than not we jump over these first bits to the recognition of resurrection and the burning hearts in the disciples, without recognizing that the same hearts that are burning within them have also been broken. Without recognizing that the people filled with overwhelming joy are the same ones who were filled with fear and despair. And without grasping that throughout their fear and despair, whether those disciples recognized it or not, they were not alone.
In our rush to jump ahead to resurrection, this crucial reality is easy to miss. That even in the place of confusion and despair, the Risen Lord walked alongside the disciples. This gospel makes clear that we never know when and where we will encounter God in our lives. And we can either walk with great trepidation afraid of all change and what we cannot control, or we can walk knowing that someone has gone before us to show us the way, to lead us to hope, to will walk with us as we live into all the changes that permeate our lives now.
MUSIC: Oh for a Closer Walk with God - Stuart Townend
STEVE: Finding God in Unexpected Places
It’s two o’clock in the morning and I’m putting in a shift with the night staff at Princess Alice Hospice. I don’t usually work nights, but I’m here to offer some support to the nursing team and help where I can with some of the additional duties CORVID-19 has added to their workload.
The building is quiet now; the busyness of the hospice day is over. But the nurses who support patients at night, whether on the Ward or visiting homes in the community, they know that patients often find the dark hours seem to magnify their concerns, their anxieties and even their pain seems to worsen.
It’s often at night that a patient will want to talk to a nurse about what’s on their mind; or they may want to hold a hand, or simply have someone sit quietly with them by their bed.
I’m struck by the fact that it was as the night approached that the two disciples had their eyes opened and understood they had been in the presence of God.
The trigger for that insight was not a flash of revelation – such things are very rare. No, it came as the routine act of settling down for the night was disrupted by the mundane action of breaking bread; and the catalyst was a prayer of blessing.
‘Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread.’
It’s the realisation that God is close to us and that a moment’s pause to bless or to mindfully meditate can bring the experience of that closeness alive – for me and for the patients that I work with – that enables me to find God in places and people I might not have expected; whatever time of day or night.
It’s in pausing to remind patients, and myself, that wherever we are, wherever we go, we are in the presence of God that allows the routine to be disrupted by the mundane.
MUSIC: The Lord is my Shepherd - John Rutter
Prayers:
Let us pray.
Jesus, God of hope, no one is a stranger to you. In your mercy, watch over all who are separated from loved ones, all who are isolated, all who feel lost. Where there is loneliness, may we know your presence. Where there is fear, may we know your comfort. Where we lose hope, may we know your hope. Where there is despair, may we know your love. Make yourself known to us, O Lord, in these difficult times and sustain us with your healing presence.
God of hope, help us to follow the road you have taken. You have taught us to love our neighbour and care for the stranger as if we were caring for you. Open our eyes to behold you in those we encounter each day and keep us mindful of the powerful ways our actions protect the vulnerable and unite us together even in isolation. Give us a deeper awareness of our need for one another and for you.
God of hope, open our eyes to your work of transformation around us. Be with our teachers and administrators who enable our key workers to care for the sick and vulnerable and to ensure our basic needs. Be with all doctors, nurses, NHS chaplains, and researchers who bring healing and comfort and who put themselves at risk as they walk with those in their care. Give sympathy, skill, and resilience to all who care for the sick, wisdom to those searching for a cure, and raise up among us creative and faithful leaders to engage with the needs of all people at this time of global uncertainty.
God of hope, s tay with us, as we endure and as we mourn, as we persist and as we struggle. Give us grace to receive from you all that we need. With the bread we need for today, feed us. In times of te mptation and testing, strengthen us. From the grip of all that is evil, free us. For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever.
And so in hope let us pray as our risen Lord has taught us:Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
JENN: Hope, reborn
If you go to the Holy Land and try to find the road to Emmaus today, you might lose hope, not least because there are four roads to Emmaus due mostly to the fact that there are five contested locations for the ancient village of Emmaus. And of the four possible roads to Emmaus, one is completely grown over and you have to search in thick brush just off a busy highway into Jerusalem to find it; one only exists on an ancient map and is now thought to be under a paved road; the remains of one is mostly contained within a convent; and the remains of another may lead you to encounter the Risen Lord without expecting it as along its overgrown stones are scattered signs warning of landmines.
Perhaps the roads to Emmaus, overgrown, missing, surrounded by prayer, and dotted with landmines are the best descriptions of our hope, our faith, and our lives as we continue on our own journeys in this moment of our world. While we might have hoped for smoother roads and clearer paths, what we get is some version of the Emmaus road to describe our faith and hope now.
And yet, there is more. For the phrase ‘but we had hoped’ and the uncertainty attached to it only describes the whole of our lives if we think that we have to go at this alone. We don’t. This gospel, this resurrection story assures us that whether we recognize it or not, the Risen One will always be our companion on the way. The story of Emmaus gives us courage and reminds us that wherever we are on our journey and however isolated we might feel, we are never alone. And in this truth, we live as those who have not just hoped in the past, but as those who embody a hope of new life with the Risen Lord that transcends our fears and our anxieties and that is available to all of us. Always. Alleluia. Christ is Risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.
HYMN: ALL MY HOPE ON GOD IS FOUNDED
JENN: BLESSING
God, by whose glory Christ was raised from the dead,fill you with faith and hope,set your hearts on fire with love, and strengthen you to walk with him in his risen life;and the blessing of God almighty,the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,rest upon you, and remain with you always. Amen.
MUSIC – The Lord is my Shepherd – John Rutter
Hearts that burn with hope demand to be shared. The road to Emmaus is not an easy road. It is a lonely road, heavy with grief and despair. Yet on this road we are never alone. On this road the love of Christ is around us and within us, setting our hearts on fire with hope and love.
JENN INTRODUCTION
Good morning and greetings from the Northway Estate in the parish of Old Headington in the city of Oxford. This parish is the home of St Andrew’s Church, a thriving site of worship for more than a thousand years, and of the John Radcliffe Hospital, the major research hospital in Oxford. Both are beacons of hope in this troubled time, offering hope and cure for the soul and the body.
The theme of our service is the road to Emmaus: the road on which two disciples began walking in despair and found themselves face to face with the risen Lord. It is a story that moves from hopelessness to hope and one that speaks into this Easter Season as we, with those disciples, celebrate resurrection hope and, as our first him reminds us know that ‘he is near us…with us evermore’. This is a presence needed more than ever as we find ourselves in the midst of a global pandemic.
As the Emmaus road invites Christians across the world to gather around word and sacrament, this morning we are invited with those first disciples to know Christ in our midst. For even in our isolation, the story of Christ’s unconditional love, forgiveness, and constant presence unites us. An in this unity we sing to Jesu who here’s our call from day to day.
HYMN: Alleluia! Sing to JesusSt Michael’s Singers
Let us pray. Lord Jesus, walk with us this day and let us know your presence, that hearts which know no peace may know your peace, hearts which have no hope may be filled with your hope, and hearts that despair may burn with the fire of your love. Amen.
I’m joined in this service by the Reverend Dr Steve Nolan, Chaplain at Princess Alice Hospice, who recorded from the Hospice earlier this week.
STEVE: On the Road Together
The idea of ‘travelling with’ or ‘journeying with’ is very familiar to healthcare chaplains.
We’re used to meeting people at a particular point in their life and illness, and journeying with them for a while.
Often the path we walk together is not easy but it’s made bearable by knowing that the person’s treatment will be curative and that they will leave the hospital and return to their normal life.
But other times, the path leads to a very different place, where the ending is not so positive, and we walk it together both knowing where it will end.
That was the path that I walked with Alun.
When I met him, shortly after his admission to Princess Alice Hospice, Alun (not his real name) was in pain and very anxious.
I got to know Alun during the weeks he was in the hospice. The path he walked was physically and emotionally demanding.
Alun’s family visited him every day and were very supportive. But he had things on his mind that were too painful for him to share with them. This made his path very lonely.
Alun had been responsible for breaking up his marriage. Years later, the pain of his divorce had faded and his relationship with his children had survived and was strong. But Alun still felt guilty. He longed for forgiveness but found it difficult to ask for the thing he needed – from his children, from his God or from himself.
Like the two disciples walking the lonely road to Emmaus, Alun and I both needed to have our eyes opened for us to see loving presence of God in his life.
In the weeks we journeyed together, Alun came to trust me enough to share more of his story and, in particular, he spoke of his fear that he would die without finding forgiveness.
On the day of our final conversation, I held Alun’s hand as we spoke about his dying and about what might come after. I reminded Alun that his family were with him, loving and accepting him – forgiving him.
And in those few, sacred moments, we both recognised that the God from whom Alun had for so long felt separated had actually been walking with us all along the way.
Psalm 121 picks up this theme and reminds us that, wherever we are, wherever we go, God is with us, even in ways we may not realise. The psalm is read for us by my colleague, Junior Adjepong, of the Facilities staff at Princess Alice Hospice.
READING 1 Psalm 121
Psalm 121
I lift up my eyes to the hills— from where will my help come?2 My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth.
3 He will not let your foot be moved; he who keeps you will not slumber.4 He who keeps Israel will neither slumber nor sleep.
5 The Lord is your keeper; the Lord is your shade at your right hand.6 The sun shall not strike you by day, nor the moon by night.
7 The Lord will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life.8 The Lord will keep your going out and your coming in from this time on and forevermore.
MUSIC: Be thou my vision Lucy Bunce
STEVE: Introduction to the Gospel Reading
The road to Emmaus is short. Luke tells us it’s only seven miles. The two disciples who left Jerusalem that first Easter Sunday morning had probably walked that way many times. They knew well how long the journey would take them; but they had no idea how far they were to travel spiritually before the day was over.
Joined by a stranger, they were unaware that God was being revealed to them. But the revelation didn’t come in a blinding flash – it rarely does. It came in the simple, everyday act of breaking bread; God in the everyday.
My colleague, Keetje Gull, Head of the In-Patient Unit (IPU) at Princess Alice Hospice, reads from the Gospel of Luke.
READING 2: The Road to Emmaus Luke 24:13-35 (NRSV)
13 Now on that same day two [disciples] were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, 14 and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. 15 While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, 16 but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. 17 And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?” They stood still, looking sad. 18 Then one of them, whose name was Cleopas, answered him, “Are you the only stranger in Jerusalem who does not know the things that have taken place there in these days?” 19 He asked them, “ What things?” They replied, “The things about Jesus of Nazareth, and how our chief priests and leaders handed him over to be condemned to death and crucified him. 21 But we had hoped that he was the one to redeem Israel. it is now the third day since these things took place. 22 Moreover, some women of our group astounded us. They were at the tomb early this morning, 23 and when they did not find his body there, they came back and told us that they had indeed seen a vision of angels who said that he was alive. 24 Some of those who were with us went to the tomb and found it just as the women had said; but they did not see him.” 25 Then he said to them, “Oh, how foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have declared! 26 Was it not necessary that the Messiah should suffer these things and then enter into his glory?”
28 As they came near the villa ge to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him; and he vanished from their sight.
JENN: Hopes Dashed
The gospel passage we just heard contains some of the most heart-breaking and realistic words in all of Scripture: ‘But we had hoped.’ We have just encountered two little known disciples – Cleopas and an unnamed companion – discussing, perhaps like many of us these this past month, their lives and hopes and how they have been changed and crushed in the events that have taken place. For these disciples, Jesus, who they thought was their Lord, was crucified and with his death, their hope for redemption and restoration has died as well. Moreover, the tomb of this hoped-for saviour is empty, his body is gone, and while rumours are flying around that he is alive, they have seen nothing to suggest this is true and they are going home. They are sad, confused, and hope-less and they have no idea that the stranger to whom they pour out their story – the only one who seems to be unaware of this great drama – is their risen Lord.
This isn’t the most upbeat account of the resurrection. There is no mention of joy, no alleluias, no cries of ‘my Lord and my God’ as they recognize the Lord. Only the words, ‘but we had hoped’, linger in the air. But so much is contained in those four words which speak of a future that is now irrelevant. And pain stems not only from the tragedy of what has happened, but the empty space of all that could have happened but won’t. ‘But we had hoped’ are words that speak to each of us still. Not because we enjoy wallowing in dark and sentimental emotions, but because they are true. But we had hoped to celebrate Easter with our communities in person. But we had hoped not to get ill. But we had hoped to be so productive in our isolation. But we had hoped not to feel lonely. But we had hoped we could do more to help. But we had hoped for one final hug. But we had hoped infuses our days and our lives in ways big and small.
And yet, because we are human and like to be in control, we do our best to gloss over these moments of disappointment or failure. Even with this story on the road to Emmaus, more often than not we jump over these first bits to the recognition of resurrection and the burning hearts in the disciples, without recognizing that the same hearts that are burning within them have also been broken. Without recognizing that the people filled with overwhelming joy are the same ones who were filled with fear and despair. And without grasping that throughout their fear and despair, whether those disciples recognized it or not, they were not alone.
In our rush to jump ahead to resurrection, this crucial reality is easy to miss. That even in the place of confusion and despair, the Risen Lord walked alongside the disciples. This gospel makes clear that we never know when and where we will encounter God in our lives. And we can either walk with great trepidation afraid of all change and what we cannot control, or we can walk knowing that someone has gone before us to show us the way, to lead us to hope, to will walk with us as we live into all the changes that permeate our lives now.
MUSIC: Oh for a Closer Walk with God - Stuart Townend
STEVE: Finding God in Unexpected Places
It’s two o’clock in the morning and I’m putting in a shift with the night staff at Princess Alice Hospice. I don’t usually work nights, but I’m here to offer some support to the nursing team and help where I can with some of the additional duties CORVID-19 has added to their workload.
The building is quiet now; the busyness of the hospice day is over. But the nurses who support patients at night, whether on the Ward or visiting homes in the community, they know that patients often find the dark hours seem to magnify their concerns, their anxieties and even their pain seems to worsen.
It’s often at night that a patient will want to talk to a nurse about what’s on their mind; or they may want to hold a hand, or simply have someone sit quietly with them by their bed.
I’m struck by the fact that it was as the night approached that the two disciples had their eyes opened and understood they had been in the presence of God.
The trigger for that insight was not a flash of revelation – such things are very rare. No, it came as the routine act of settling down for the night was disrupted by the mundane action of breaking bread; and the catalyst was a prayer of blessing.
‘Blessed are you, Lord, God of all creation. Through your goodness we have this bread.’
It’s the realisation that God is close to us and that a moment’s pause to bless or to mindfully meditate can bring the experience of that closeness alive – for me and for the patients that I work with – that enables me to find God in places and people I might not have expected; whatever time of day or night.
It’s in pausing to remind patients, and myself, that wherever we are, wherever we go, we are in the presence of God that allows the routine to be disrupted by the mundane.
MUSIC: The Lord is my Shepherd - John Rutter
Prayers:
Let us pray.
Jesus, God of hope, no one is a stranger to you. In your mercy, watch over all who are separated from loved ones, all who are isolated, all who feel lost. Where there is loneliness, may we know your presence. Where there is fear, may we know your comfort. Where we lose hope, may we know your hope. Where there is despair, may we know your love. Make yourself known to us, O Lord, in these difficult times and sustain us with your healing presence.
God of hope, help us to follow the road you have taken. You have taught us to love our neighbour and care for the stranger as if we were caring for you. Open our eyes to behold you in those we encounter each day and keep us mindful of the powerful ways our actions protect the vulnerable and unite us together even in isolation. Give us a deeper awareness of our need for one another and for you.
God of hope, open our eyes to your work of transformation around us. Be with our teachers and administrators who enable our key workers to care for the sick and vulnerable and to ensure our basic needs. Be with all doctors, nurses, NHS chaplains, and researchers who bring healing and comfort and who put themselves at risk as they walk with those in their care. Give sympathy, skill, and resilience to all who care for the sick, wisdom to those searching for a cure, and raise up among us creative and faithful leaders to engage with the needs of all people at this time of global uncertainty.
God of hope, s tay with us, as we endure and as we mourn, as we persist and as we struggle. Give us grace to receive from you all that we need. With the bread we need for today, feed us. In times of te mptation and testing, strengthen us. From the grip of all that is evil, free us. For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever.
And so in hope let us pray as our risen Lord has taught us:Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name; thy kingdom come; thy will be done; on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation; but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory, for ever and ever. Amen.
JENN: Hope, reborn
If you go to the Holy Land and try to find the road to Emmaus today, you might lose hope, not least because there are four roads to Emmaus due mostly to the fact that there are five contested locations for the ancient village of Emmaus. And of the four possible roads to Emmaus, one is completely grown over and you have to search in thick brush just off a busy highway into Jerusalem to find it; one only exists on an ancient map and is now thought to be under a paved road; the remains of one is mostly contained within a convent; and the remains of another may lead you to encounter the Risen Lord without expecting it as along its overgrown stones are scattered signs warning of landmines.
Perhaps the roads to Emmaus, overgrown, missing, surrounded by prayer, and dotted with landmines are the best descriptions of our hope, our faith, and our lives as we continue on our own journeys in this moment of our world. While we might have hoped for smoother roads and clearer paths, what we get is some version of the Emmaus road to describe our faith and hope now.
And yet, there is more. For the phrase ‘but we had hoped’ and the uncertainty attached to it only describes the whole of our lives if we think that we have to go at this alone. We don’t. This gospel, this resurrection story assures us that whether we recognize it or not, the Risen One will always be our companion on the way. The story of Emmaus gives us courage and reminds us that wherever we are on our journey and however isolated we might feel, we are never alone. And in this truth, we live as those who have not just hoped in the past, but as those who embody a hope of new life with the Risen Lord that transcends our fears and our anxieties and that is available to all of us. Always. Alleluia. Christ is Risen. He is risen indeed. Alleluia.
HYMN: ALL MY HOPE ON GOD IS FOUNDED
JENN: BLESSING
God, by whose glory Christ was raised from the dead,fill you with faith and hope,set your hearts on fire with love, and strengthen you to walk with him in his risen life;and the blessing of God almighty,the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,rest upon you, and remain with you always. Amen.
Broadcast
- Sun 26 Apr 2020 08:10鶹Լ Radio 4