How fragile we are

‘Fragile’ - it could describe our nation’s health embodied by the Prime Minister in critical care, or the state of the nation's economy and future hope. Alternatively it could describe our relationships with others or our own mental health as we are forced into this period of lockdown for a few more weeks. 
I’m aware of how fragile life feels for those members of Holy Trinity - young and old alike - who have underlying health conditions for whom exposure to the Coronavirus could be more than their bodies could cope with.

Fragile also is how Jesus’ life appears in Holy Week as he travels towards the cross, at times seemingly at the mercy of those who mock him, flog him, falsely accuse him and finally crucify him before gambling for his clothing. Jesus’ claims look fragile - more than that, he’s a failure isn’t he? - as he hangs on the cross taunted by those with nothing better to do than make the biggest mistake of their lives: ‘Aren’t you the Messiah? Save yourself and us!’

The title of this blog comes from a beautiful song by Sting: ‘Fragile’. He wrote it after hearing about a young member of the US Peace Corps in Nicaragua who was - deliberately or otherwise - killed in a case of mistaken identity. The peace maker was ‘mistaken’ for a guerrilla and shot. Sting wrote about this song: ‘The idea of fragility was a very easy one for me. It’s very easy to kill people.’


Is this what we are witnessing as we approach the events of Easter weekend? A tragic case of 'mistaken' identity, so that a peacemaker is done away with and the world can get on without the awkward interference of one who challenged the religious and political structures of his time?

Well, rewind to the night before his crucifixion, and we discover the answer. 

It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having love his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end... Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; 4 so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. 5 After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. (John 13)

In the washing of his disciples' feet, Jesus shows how he was about to act in a way which 'loved them to the end'. By taking the humble position of a servant and washing the feet of the fragile ego-ed disciples, he uses this act to illustrate his coming 'washing' of them by his death on the cross. There is more to Jesus' words to the reluctant Peter than Peter realises at the time:  'Unless I wash you, you have no part with me'.(v.8)

Jesus' situation during Holy Week may seem fragile, he may seem at the mercy of events, but it is deceptive. Jesus is fully in control. He had chosen to 'set his face toward Jerusalem', knowing what awaited him there. Earlier in John's gospel Jesus tells his disciples how he would 'lay down my life - only to take it up again. No one takes it from me, but I lay it down of my own accord. I have authority to lay it down, and authority to take it up again' (10:17, 18). Humility, love, courage, obedience are all in evidence as Jesus walks through Holy Week.

After washing their feet, Jesus encourages his disciples to follow his example. 'Now that I, your Lord and Teacher have washed your feet,you also should wash one another's feet.' Jesus has set us an example of service that we are to follow as a means of loving one another. 

Tonight at 8pm we might choose to join our neighbours in acknowledging those who serve us and ‘wash our feet’ (and more...) in their work with the NHS. My own family has recently witnessed the vital role of carers in looking after family members, and I will have them in mind as I applaud tonight.  It would be a wonderful thing if there was a wholesale re-evaluation of what roles we want to honour and give value to in our society after this present situation comes to an end. 

But as we applaud those who serve us in the NHS and elsewhere, will we allow ourselves to see beyond all this to the One who has served us fully and has washed our feet? The one who has met us in all our fragility and has laid down his own life to bring us the possibility of a new relationship and status before God? 

John, the disciple who wrote the gospel then writes again of Jesus in the final book of the bible. He shares a vision of all that Jesus’ suffering, death and resurrection has achieved for his people in eternity - it is a world without the fragility and resulting pain of this one:
‘Look! God’s dwelling place is now among the people and he will dwell with them. They will be his people and...He will wipe every year from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.’


I’m pretty sure that Sting didn’t have Good Friday in mind as he wrote the final enigmatic lines of his song, but it doesn’t take a great leap...Tomorrow’s rain will wash the stains away, but something in our minds will always stay.