And the casserole ...

And the casserole ...
A Roman Catholic priest, a Baptist minister and a Methodist lay preacher die and go to heaven. They are met at the gates by St. Peter who tells them that, before they can enter, they must bring something with them that represents their faith.
St. Peter asks the Roman Catholic what he has brought and priest shows him his rosary and says, 'I have said my prayers using my rosary every day.' St. Peter replies, 'Enter my son.'
St Peter asks the Baptist what he has brought and the minister shows him his Bible and says, I have lived my life by the Bible every day.' St. Peter replies, 'Enter my son.'
St Peter asks the Methodist what he has brought with him and the Methodists says,'I've brought a casserole.'

Wednesday, 8 April 2020

This is Holy Week - Wednesday - A Beautiful Thing



This is Holy Week – Wednesday

A Beautiful Thing

‘A woman came to him with an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, which she poured on his head as he was reclining at the table. When the disciples saw this, they were indignant. “Why this waste?” they asked. “This perfume could have been sold at a high price and the money given to the poor.” Aware of this, Jesus said to them, “Why are you bothering this woman? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, but you will not always have me. When she poured this perfume on my body, she did it to prepare me for burial. I tell you the truth, wherever this gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done for me will also be told, in memory of her.’

Matthew 26.6-13

‘What a waste’ demonstrates common sense at a time when love was needed. A jar of very expensive perfume broken to anoint Jesus was an act of extravagant love. The woman understood what the disciples failed to see. He would not be among them for very much longer, for his own act of extravagant love was only a few days away. Nailed to a cross, his life ebbing away, sacrificed so that we might be reconciled to our Father.

The dictates of prudence take up the greater part of our lives but what is too often missing are acts of extravagant love. Times when we give up all we have for love of him who loved us first. We make a gift of ourselves and a gift is only a gift if it is more than we can afford: a sacrifice. That is a beautiful thing.

And it is true, that story is retold, and the woman remembered.

My song is love unknown,
my Saviour's love to me,
love to the loveless shown,
that they might lovely be.
O who am I,
that for my sake
my Lord should take
frail flesh and die?

Here might I stay and sing,
no story so divine:
never was love, dear King,
never was grief like thine!
This is my Friend,
in whose sweet praise
I all my days
could gladly spend.

Samuel Crossman (c. 1624–1683)

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