We celebrated Easter morning this year through the symbolism of sharing a big homemade sardine pizza - what your local supermarket would call a tear'n'share snack. We heard the gospel story of Jesus turning up by Lake Galilee where his disciples, scattered from Jerusalem after his arrest, have gone back to their fishing. After a night of frustration with no fish biting, he has a breakfast of bread and fish waiting for them on the shore.
This set the scene for our unconventional Eucharist, with everybody getting oily fingers as the pieces of bread and sardine went round. Most of the words and gestures came from a book by our Easter speaker, priest and magician Mark Townsend. But we needed an extra prayer conjuring up the lakeside moment, and perhaps you'll be interested to share it with us. I was responsible for this version (and have revised it since), using parts of Mark's original wording. The lines in bold are spoken by everybody together.
O God, our Father, our
Mother,
breath of life, heart of all
that is,
we give you thanks
for the life and love of
Jesus.
Today we picture ourselves
on the shore, by the lake
in the early morning
With all the sadness and
confusion
of people who have known
the loss of all they worked
for
their hopes come to nothing
With all the mixed feelings
of people angry or despairing
when others let them down,
and of people who know how guilt
feels
when it's we who do the
letting down
Today we recognize ourselves
in Jesus's first friends
on the shore, by the lake
in the early morning
And here is a welcome
just like that of a friend we thought we'd lost
forever.
Here is an experience of being known
really known, but not judged.
Here is the touch of a love that cannot be extinguished
a love that conquers even betrayal and death.
In a moment of quiet let's go
in our imagination
to where Jesus surprises us
watching and calling from the
shore
bringing bread and fish and
fire
(PAUSE)
Time and again
when Jesus and his friends
shared food together
in a cornfield
on a boat
around a campfire
in an upper room
he would give thanks to God
and so do we
for all the gifts of life and
love
and so say we
and then he would share the
food and drink
freely with all
and so will we
just as he freely gave his life
as the ultimate sign
of a love without boundaries or conditions.
Now as we join his first
friends
on the shore, by the lake
are we not with him and he
with us
in spirit, in truth, in every
way that matters?
We too have known
the long labour in the dark to no avail
the burden of yet another disappointment.
But we too remember
the picnics and the feasts that said it all:
how no-one was excluded
when the rough wine was poured;
how no-one went hungry
when the simple food went round;
how all our tears and fears and laughter
wove into one
story
of love as strong as death itself
among the crumbs and fishbones and spilt wine.
May we never lose this sense of how the world should
be
of how life really can be
of how it is
in the sight of God.
