The Way

The Way

This is the image that dominates the sanctuary of the United Methodist Erlöserkirche (Saviour’s Church) in Chemnitz, Germany. A large wooden cross that begins at the altar and reaches heavenwards towards the ceiling. Behind it, this quite simple, but profound piece of graphic artwork, illustrating Jesus’ final steps on the way to his crucifixion.

This is the church that I ministered in for 13 years. Almost every Sunday, I stood under this image and preached the word of God. But it was only recently, when I went back to my old congregation, this time as a visitor sitting in the pews, that I began to see this image from a different perspective. And ‘different perspective’ is usually the way God speaks to me.

This artwork was created by the graphic illustrator, Werner Knauer. He was a committed Christian and an active member of the United Methodist Church in nearby Aue-Neustädl. It was not easy for Knauer, as a Christian artist working in the Communist GDR. He was banned from the official state association of fine arts, which made it almost impossible for him to get work and provide a living for his family. But his pastor found a way for him to be employed by the UMC in East Germany. He did the graphics and illustrations for many of the educational books and materials in the church in GDR times. And he helped design displays, sculptures and artwork for church buildings. Including this fascinating graphic illustration in the Erlöserkirche in Chemnitz.

It depicts the way of the cross, hours before Jesus’ death. Jesus has already been judged, (and found innocent), by the Roman governor Pontius Pilate. He has already been beaten and whipped by the Roman soldiers. They have placed a crown of thorns on his head, and mocked and humiliated him. They have given him his cross to carry to Golgatha, where he will soon be crucified. The scene depicts Jesus stumbling as he carries the cross – which, by the way, is not actually in the biblical account. No where in any of the Gospels do we read of Jesus stumbling. But it is inferred – by the account of Simon aiding Jesus and carrying his cross. And it has inspired preachers for centuries – including those who preach without words.

Let me share just three ways that this artwork spoke to me.

The Numerous Lines

In the curved lines I see the path that Jesus is taking. The Via Dolorosa – the way of the cross. The illustration shows an uphill path. It’s tiring, difficult, demanding, requires effort, and saps strength. As we journey through life, it can often feel like that – taking difficult steps, struggling uphill with the worries and burdens we carry. Notice that, in the mural, the curved lines only go uphill until they reach the figure of Jesus, after which they begin to turn downhill. I am not suggesting that the hidden message here is that we only have problems and difficulties until we meet Jesus, and then after that everything is a piece of cake. That is too simplistic. But I do believe that the encounter with Jesus makes some kind of a difference. That’s what I take from this depiction of the curved lines in the mural. When our paths touch Jesus, something happens.

When I look at the straight lines, I see two distinct groups. At the bottom of the mural the straight lines are all horizontal. These lines, underneath Jesus, are straight, flat, horizontal. It appears to me that Jesus is on even ground. Where Jesus is, is a strong foundation. It’s solid ground. It’s safe ground. A safe space. Especially if you are on your knees in desperation. Especially when life’s problems and blows have led you to lose your footing. Where Jesus is, is safe ground.

The other group of straight lines emanate from Jesus’ heart, and extend out in all directions. Not only in 360 degrees – symbolizing around the clock – , but if you can visualize it, also in 3D. It’s as if the lines are reaching out of the mural, towards the observer, to encompass and include us. The lines extending out from Jesus’ heart, as he bears the sin, hate, cruelty and humiliation of man, show God’s unfathomable love that reaches everywhere and everyone. The Creator God, who lowered himself and was born as a man, who even when brought to his knees, at his lowest, he radiates love to the whole world! Even to me.

It’s really only when this holy love grabs hold of you that you can even begin to understand why and how the hymn writer could pen the words: “Love so amazing, so divine, demand my life, my soul, my all.” I encourage you to pause for a moment and let this visual sermon speak to your heart. All of us have our cross to bear. What is yours today? Are you struggling uphill? Beaten and burdened. I invite you to encounter the love of God, and the God of love. A 360 degree, 3D kind of love that reaches you right there where you are. Even where you might think you are unreachable. Or unlovable. Sense the heart of Jesus. Step onto solid ground. Safe ground. And be enveloped in an incomprehensible love that reaches out to you… and reaches you.

The Shading

Usually in art shade plays an artistic role, following the rules of natural laws. There are one or more light sources that cast shadows, that are usually illustrated by shading in the artwork. But in Werner Knauer’s mural the shading does not follow the natural laws – they actually break them, which is a message in itself. The shading in this image actually has a theological purpose. I understand the thicker, darker lines to be representative of the burden of sin that Jesus bore as he carried the cross. They surround the figure of Jesus. Often in religious art Jesus is illuminated by a bright aura surrounding him. But here his body is outlined by a thick dark line. The dark shading on the cross also seems to be pushing down on Jesus, oppressing him. And there is also the thick black line at Jesus’ left foot, crossing his path. It almost looks like it is the thing that has caused him to stumble – the burden of the sins of humanity.

Then there is the thick black line that encircles the small rock on the ground. What is this supposed to signify? Why did the artist choose to illustrate this scene this way? My interpretation is that this single small rock signifies all the small sins that nevertheless cause us to stumble. Not necessarily the big sins, but the little things, that tend to make us self-righteous. Things we overlook, and the carelessness that hinders us.

In the thick dark lines it seems that sin is written in bold typeface in this mural. It grabs our attention. And it should, because no matter what your particular theology of the cross might be – and in the history of Christianity there have been various metaphors, understandings and interpretations – the fact is that sin is central in the story of the passion of Christ. Sin. Evil. Brokenness. Destructiveness. Selfishness. Addiction. Corruption. Greed. All of them – and more – are illustrated by these bold dark lines of shade that are prominent in this image, as are what they represent in the Easter story itself. They bring Christ to his knees.

And there are two ways that these sins, these failings, these shortcomings can bring us to our knees as well. We can become so burdened and broken by them that we collapse in a heap, because we realize we can’t manage in our own strength. Or, they could and should bring us to our knees in prayer. In recognition that we can’t do it on our own, and also that we don’t have to do it on our own! Jesus bears all our shortcomings! That is the heart of the Gospel. So, once again I invite you to pause and look at the artwork. Look at those bold lines on and around Jesus. Hear the words: “For you”. And accept the core teaching of Jesus’ life and ministry, namely, you do not have to crucify yourself because of your failings!

Signs of Hope

I come to my last reflection. The artist did not just leave us with the darkness, heaviness and tragedy of the crucifixion. In this artwork I see two signs that point to Christ’s victory over sin and death. Two statements that offer hope.

Firstly, I see Easter Sunday in the 3 circles behind the cross on the right hand side. To me these circles look like the tomb and the stone that was rolled away, pointing to the joy of the resurrection. In this image, and in the Easter story that it depicts, I hear God saying, “There is hope. Trust me.”

And secondly, I can see two letters depicted in this artwork. Have a look yourself, before reading on, to see if you can find them…..

The first letter can be found behind Jesus’ left knee – the letter ‘A’. And the second letter is on the very outer edge of the three circles on the right hand side. It is the letter ‘Z’, but written the German way, with a horizontal stroke in the middle of the ‘Z’. These letters are not particularly easy to find, so did the artist intend to have these two letters in his illustration? I believe so. Why else would he have added some of these additional lines that form the letters. The image would have worked fine without them. So why an ‘A’ and a ‘Z’? Of course we recognize them as the first and last letters of the alphabet. But in Greek, the first and last letters of the alphabet are ‘Alpha’ and ‘Omega’. And we know that Jesus is referred to in the Bible as the “Alpha and Omega, the first and the last”.

So for me, the God that is pictured in this artwork – the God who is on the way of the cross with us, the God who is a safe space for us when we fall and are on our knees – is the Alpha and Omega, the One and All, the Be all and End all. The triune Creator, Saviour and Comforter, whose love rolls stones away, and whose word breathes abundant life.

Now look again at that mural.

Jesus is bigger now! He almost looks too big in that picture. He no longer looks weak, oppressed or burdened. In fact, he’s not falling to his knees. Can you see it? He is getting up off his knees! Standing up. Strong. Can you see how big his hand is in relation to the cross? That cross actually looks tiny now. My heart can hear those bold black chains around Jesus snap free as he rises defiantly to his feet and effortlessly tosses the cross aside, as if it were a tooth pick… to give us full view of the empty tomb. That means there’s no holding back now.

So be encouraged, friend. Celebrate with me the true meaning of Easter: There is hope. God’s love reaches everywhere. And love wins!

Happy Easter!

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Pioneer Spirit

Photo: J.J.

Pioneer Spirit

Breaking new ground. Beyond the call of duty.
Behold, I am doing a new thing.
How could you? Why would you? Ever?
Take a risk. Say yes. To invite. To be invited.
Risk takers say yes, ja, oui.

Ideas are easy. Talk, too.
Living it, making it real, is much harder. That’s the Spirit.
Put yourself out. Out there. And see.
If they like us? If we like them?
Or were we both right all along?

Worlds with their views collide on a brown rock.
All rebels with a cause. And songs without applause.
Filled with new meaning partly. To make meaning full.
It’s all just words that become flesh. Like a 75 year old nun.
And strangers become friends.

Co-workers shop for a better world.
Full of children. With their laughter. Improvising as they play.
And holy hymns – alleluja!
The pioneer Spirit runs rings around us.
Freeze! But don’t stop us now.

For we’ve still got split personalities.
And a half a hectic lifetime to live.
Filled with the sound effects of the Other.
Leading me to ask, ”Who am I?”. Hopefully with helping hands.
”I am who I am. I am there”, is the answer that I hear.

Come Holy Ghost, save me from men drunk in the spirit.
But in Greek people say, ”Yiamas”. Me too.
Celebrating friendship. Hurting and healing.
Sharing and journeying, as pilgrims do.
Not knowing where we will end up in the dark with a light between us.

A feast fit for any child of God. And for pioneers and personalities.
Every one special. Desired. Loved.
By the unspeakable Name who asks the impossible. For life.
Doors are closing. Setting us free to pioneer new and old ways.
I can only say Goodbye to you because it’s short for, ”God be with you”.

A Holy Communion of saints and sinners.
And a God who makes no difference. Remember.
I am who I am at a burning bush with rainbow flames enveloping us.
All of us are unbelievers on this holy ground. Incredible!
We take off not just our shoes. And dedicate ourselves to embrace this pioneer spirit again.

”And scene!”

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How to Make a Happy New Year

Colorful fireworks in the sky.

Germany no longer surprises me

I have been living in Germany for 24 years – scary, I know. So I more or less know how life works here. And it is not often that I am surprised by Germany or by my beloved German friends, neighbours or the citizens of my second home, Chemnitz city.

There is a routine to life here. There are rules and regulations and customs and traditions – like anywhere, I suppose. There are set times for when you can burn twigs and branches on a fire in your garden. There are strict laws around re-cycling your rubbish. And even set times when you are NOT allowed to throw your glass in the recycling bins. At pedestrian crossings you must wait for the wee green man before you cross – and you will be reprimanded if you walk on red – even if it’s midnight and there are no cars anywhere in sight!

And when you have been living in Germany as long as I have, you get used to people not saying hello when you pass them on the street. Strangers don’t greet each other here. In Ireland this would be impossible, and I still struggle to keep my head down and force myself to say nothing as I walk past a person on the street here. (For the record, on the occasions where I have greeted a stranger on the street with a friendly ‘hello’, I get looked at as if I have just been released from the psychiatric ward!)

But I know all this now. I am seasoned pro now. I have lived here long enough now. Little surprises me now.

With one exception

Except New Year’s Eve.

Or as the Germans like to call it: Silvester. Silvester gets me every year. I should know better. I have lived here long enough to know. But Silvester creeps up and surprises me. Every. Single. Year.

For two reasons:

1. On New Year’s Eve the Germans forget that they are German. At Silvester the Germans forget all the rules. For some strange reason – and I have a theory about that, which I will come to in a minute – the normally very disciplined and orderly, neat and tidy, law-abiding, environmentally friendly, animal loving Germans go berzerk! That’s the only way I can describe it.

It seems to me that at Silvester, every member of the family, from 8 to 80 year olds, has bought a ton of fireworks …that all get ignited on the streets of the city at midnight to bring in the New Year.

And when I say fireworks, I mean FIREWORKS – not the tame little bangers and sparklers that were the only fireworks that we were allowed as kids growing up during the Troubles of Northern Ireland. I am talking about FIREWORKS that you would find at the opening of the Olympic Games in Beijing!!! Rockets, missiles, fountains, zippers, smokers, bombers, wheels and wings. The whole shebang! Being lit by every Tom, Dick and Harriet on the street outside their house…with neighbours and other properties only 10 metres away! I have seen fireworks being dragged out in boxes the size of a small sofa. Placed in the middle of the street – as cars drive by (usually paramedics’ cars!) It’s crazy. It’s bedlam. It’s chaotic. It’s toxic. It’s uncontrolled. It’s very dangerous.

And it’s fun.

And spectacular. And strangely beautiful.

And – most of all – surprising. You just do not expect this from the usually very orderly Germans!

So here’s my theory why Silvester seems to me to be the most un-German-like of nights. I reckon that the German citizens have had to deal with, and live under, all the rules and restrictions that society imposes on them for the whole year. They manage to deal with it all – the do’s and dont’s – for 364 days in the year. But at Silvester, the pressure valve is released. Everything explodes. Not just the fireworks. All that has been suppressed and kept down now comes to the surface. All released. And it is a wonderfully chaotic, untypical, and indeed the most surprising night in the German calendar.

2. But let me come to the second way that Silvester in Germany surprises me. People talk to you!

Strangers on the street greet each other. Wishing each other a happy new year, or a gesundes neues Jahr – a healthy new year. On 364 days of the year these very same people will walk past each other and not even think of greeting each other. Why would they? It’s not a done thing here. They are not being impolite (although to outsiders it may seem so). They are not being unfriendly (although to outsiders it may seem so). No. Not at all. The Germans are some of the most friendly, kind and generous people I have ever met. And I travel internationally quite a bit. They just do not normally greet strangers on the street as they pass them by. That’s all.

Except for – Überraschung! – at Silvester. On New Year’s Eve, in the midst of the firework war zone, strangers will cross the street – ducking to avoid the rockets – to say hello and maybe make a toast with their glass of Rotkäppchen sparkling wine, and wish everyone a gesundes neues Jahr. It is lovely. It really is. A nice surprise.

But enjoy it while it lasts, because a day or two later you had better remember not to greet a stranger if you pass them on the street, that is, if you want to avoid the recently-released-from-the-psychiatric-ward look that you definitely will get.

Happy New Year – more than a wish

Happy New Year! A Healthy New Year! These are lovely wishes, aren’t they? Truly LOVE-ly.

I ACTually believe that wishes can come true.

That’s why I want to not only WISH everyone a happy and healthy new year. I actually want to ACT, where possible, in a way that makes my wish a reality for that person. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? To put it another way – how can I help the people in my life – or indeed the strangers that I wish happy new year to – to actually experience a happy and healthy new year? Can I do anything to bring that about?

Good wishes are nice. Who doesn’t love to receive good wishes? But would it not be even better if wishes did not just remain wishes – things hoped for. What if I could make someone’s 2023 actually more happy? More healthy? In some small way better? What kind of a life can I live that would actually make a difference, and make some of my good wishes come true?

Can I pray more? Can I listen more? Can I spend more time with someone? Can I comfort someone? Can I help someone? Can I give more of my finances, time, resources etc. to make it a happy new year for a family, a friend, a stranger?

Join me and help make 2023 a truly happy new year

I want to try to. Do you want to join me in trying? I would love that.

I know that I am not very disciplined. I can talk a good talk, but I don’t always practice what I preach. So I reckon it will not always be easy to be the wish-fulfiller that I would like to be in 2023. But I worship a God who sees me just as I am – with all my faults and shortcomings. And who loves me all the more because of that. And this crazy, chaotic, dangerous, surprising God of infinite love calls me every day to do life with Him/Her, and to help make my wishes come true.

Come join me this year. My “Happy New Year” to you is not just a wish, but an invitation. A call.

Together, let’s see how we can bring healing and happiness in 2023.

Jahreslosung (Verse for the year 2023): “You are a God who sees me.” (Gen. 16,13)

#CtheUnseen

Graffiti on a wall: This world is so broken, I can't keep my eyes open.
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For Grace

I recently attended a day-conference in Rome entitled “Encountering Modern Day Slavery”. This event, run by the Clewer Initiative, had gathered young adults from various parts of the world, with the aim of highlighting and raising awareness of the issues around modern day slavery. I was there in my role as Partnership Coordinator for Europe, accompanying the current youth president of the Methodist Church in Britain.

(Trigger warning – the following contains some general details of rape and sexual violence.)

We heard two very powerful and moving testimonies from a young man and a young woman from different countries in Africa, as they shared about how they were deceived and exploited by people near and dear to them. The young man was betrayed by a close friend, who had offered to help him find a hopeful future in Europe, but in reality was sending him into forced labour, without pay, in Italy. This very moving story was tragic in and of itself, but it was the story of the young woman that touched and disturbed me even more deeply. This young lady was deceived and betrayed by her own (female) pastor in Africa – a lady who was very close to her family and who had helped them on many occasions. The young lady was sold into the sex trade and ended up working as a prostitute in Italy.

Group discussion

But it was an incident before she arrived in Italy that moved and disturbed me the most. A 13 year old girl, named, Grace, was also being trafficked into Europe. The lady shared how she had taken Grace under her wing and tried to protect her from the horrors of the camp and the dangers of the journey. But one day she could not protect Grace. Nor herself. The guards came and took them and violated them.

Two days later, Grace died of her injures. She was just 13 years old.

As I listened to this story being told, the tears were running down my cheeks. But I was also in awe of the strength and faith of the young lady who was sharing this story. “In an almost entirely hopeless situation, Grace’s deasth actually gave life to me,” she explained. “I promised myself that I will survive. I will survive this hell so that I can tell Grace’s story. This will not be the end of Grace!”.

In the afternoon the organizers of the event invited us to reflect further on what we had heard and how we were feeling. We could also make our own kites and decorate them in ways that might help us to express our thoughts and feelings. The leader played a beautiful piece of music from a Kenyan artist and asked us to be still and think about what we might like to draw or write on our kites. The Greek word χάρη came into my mind. It is Greek for ‘Grace’, with the last letter looking like a bird flying away. And so I began to draw. In spite of my limited artistic ability, I wanted to honour Grace. I wanted to see her transformed. I wanted to show the journey of this 13 year old from a place of darkness and fear to a place of light and hope and healing…and metamorphosis. A beautiful creature. As her Creator intended her to be. Risen. Flying high. Free.

Risen and Free

The act of drawing and reflecting was actually a very useful way of processing some of the horrific accounts we had been hearing about that day. These painful and personal stories were incredibly moving. Moving, too, in the sense that they move me to action. That I quite literally move – do something – something other than just draw on a kite. This blog is a first step.

You can find help and resources here, here and here.

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Kaleidoscope of Hope

Refugee Centre in Przemsyl, Poland.

Poetic reflections on a recent trip to Poland – Ukraine.

Early morning flights. Ours were planned. Others were not so lucky.
The Lion of Poznan. With battle scars on show.
Taking us to mothers and children. Children and mothers. Sent into the unknown.
And men who have no choice, but to stay and wave their arms.

On the road again. Off it too, in more ways than one.
With Trinity at the wheel.
Journeying to a line drawn on a map. By men who dictate things.
Thankful for traveling mercies, and slow tractors.

Yellow and blue. Everywhere yellow and blue. Trooping the colours.
The call to arms. For cakes and buns. Enough to feed an army.
Of God’s people. Churches, that not only pray.
Faith expressing itself in love. Come, stranger! Welcome! Stay!

A roof over my head. A nice one too.
With ways and means. And money and food.
A laptop charger. A phone cable. My favourite baseball cap. Things I leave behind.
Ridiculous in comparison to those in the Centre. Who know loss of a different kind.

400 field beds in an overflow place.
Dog food and cat litter. Sim cards. With gigabytes and minutes.
Men playing Guitars. Kids playing ball. Help in every corner.
And the best use of national flags I’ve ever seen.

Aid trucks and campers and lorries and vans.
Folks who cross a continent because they must. And can.
Indian Chai from a German of Pakistani descent.
Sikh, Christian, Muslim, Jew. Normal service has been resumed.

Breakfast with dozens of policemen. Safe and secure.
Convoys of tanks and military vehicles.
Bringing hope. Or despair. Depending on who you talk to.
My heart breaks for those who are forced to choose.

Brothers and sisters singing songs of hope.
Believing. Hoping that Europe will now see them differently.
That Europe will see them. That Europe will see.
We will. We do. But why did we need a war to open our eyes?

Barry Sloan (Poland/Ukraine border, 25th April 2022)

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