For one who is meant to be retired, last week was extraordinarily busy. As a result, God-stuff faded a little into the wallpaper. OK, faded a lot. Rather than a felt and conscious presence, an internal dialogue, it was more like a memory of someone gone, with whom I ought to catch up.
But opportunity for that catch-up came this morning at early service. A quiet gathering, with just a dozen or so, where we remembered the part which Mary Magdalene played in the faith. And the catch-up which came for her as, in the Easter morning appearance, Jesus, who she mistook for the gardener, says her name. That's all. Not 'Don't you recognise me? Can't you see whom I am? Get a grip, it's Jesus talking to you!' or any other possible response. Just the deepest thing that resonates in her- her name.
It's that deep stuff resonating within me which keeps me plodding on in the faith. Somehow I know that I am known by name. in That in spite of not recognising the God in front of me, making all sorts of mistakes about who and where he is, I am still in a relationship with him where I am recognised and known. And that includes being too busy to pay attention, assigning God to the wallpaper of life.
Memo to self; must try harder...….
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