The cross of truth and grace

Our Holy Week reflections began with the showing of Incendies on Palm Sunday. The movie took us to the awe-full intersection of truth and grace. Both a terrible place and an inspiring place.

In Incendies a mother is tortured by her own son – though he knows not that she is his mother. He comes to this truth after her death when he is delivered two letters from her.

The first letter is addressed to him as her torturer. The second letter is addressed to him as her son. He is not one or the other – he is both. He is both at one and the same time. That is the truth of the matter. That is the grace of the matter. It is an awe-full intersection. A painful joy.

Letter to the Torturer

I’m shaking as I write.
I recognised you.
You didn’t recognise me.
It’s magnificent, a miracle.
I am your Number 72.
Our children will deliver this.
You won’t recognise them, for they are beautiful.
But they know who you are.
Through them, I want to tell you that you are still alive.
Soon you will turn silent … I know.
For all are silent before the truth.
Signed: Whore 72

Letter to the Son

I speak to the son, not the torturer.
Whatever happens, I’ll always love you.
I promised you that when you were born, my son.
Whatever happens, I’ll always love you.
I looked for you all my life.
I found you.
You couldn’t recognise me.
You’ve a tattoo on your right heel.
I saw it. I recognised you.
You are beautiful.
I wrap you in tenderness, my love.
Take solace, for nothing means more than being together.
You were born of love.
So your brother and sister were born of love, too.
Nothing means more than being together.
Your mother,
Nawal Marwan.
Prisoner No. 72

Today more than any other day we are drawn to the awe-full intersection – the awe-full cross of truth and grace. The truth of our skill to torture – our capacity to crucify. The grace of “whatever you do to me – I will always love you… nothing means more than being together”.

Let us keep company with each other today – in this awe-full place.

With grace and truth, Alan

Suffocating sadness

Last week’s sermon entitled: Suicide — When Sadness Suffocates is up on our website: www.cmm.org.za. The sermon by no means covers all that could or should be said about such tragedy, but the hope is that it will nudge us towards a less judgmental and more compassionate place of understanding. Here is a brief summary:

  • Suicide is not the unforgiveable sin.
  • Suicide does not defeat God.
  • Suicide is most often the result of an illness called depression.
  • Suicide is often done as an act of love — thinking it will free others of the burden that one feels one has become.
  • Suicide causes immeasurable pain and grief (and guilt) for the living.
  • Suicide may end the physical pain, but I wonder when we meet Jesus face-to-face whether we will be invited by him to deal with all the unresolved areas of our lived life.
  • Suicide highlights the need for all of us to be sensitive and available to each other to listen.
  • Suicide highlights that we are (+) powerless to change/cause/control another person’s life.
  • Prayer, medication, counselling/therapy, diet, exercise, all can contribute to healing.

Suicide is not a desire to die so much as a fervent wish not to go on living.

In the light of this darkness I remind you of the promise-filled road to Emmaus that we walked three weeks ago: • Jesus meets us on the road paved with pain • Jesus comes to us even before we invite him • Jesus’ presence is not dependent on our ability to see him • Jesus has already defeated what has defeated us • Our eyes are open to Jesus among us when we do the Word.

I pray that these promises will pull us through the pain, Alan