Walking in the Valley of Darkness

The news this week has of course been dominated by the awful outbreak of violence be- tween Hamas and Israel. I fear that in writing anything about these events, I lay myself open to the criticism of doing so from a viewpoint of ignorance and misunderstanding. Yes, it is true I have no expertise in the history of this enduring conflict, so these thoughts are de facto, made from a standpoint distant from any experience of what it is like to live in such conditions. This I accept, may or may not disqualify them from being relevant, but witnessing the suffering and horror of what is happening, when one feels totally helpless, calls on us to do what we can, even if it may seem to many irrelevant. So, what can we do?

We are gathered around a table. What is it that we are here for? Can we expand our minds to see that today, just as at every eucharist, we have come to share our hopes, our joys, our pain, our sorrows and our sadness. It should not escape our thoughts. We are here to experience a moment that foreshadows and brings into our present lives, an encounter which encapsulates the very essence of what we are about. It is the making present of a memory which illuminates our minds with a mystery that ignites the flame of faith in a God of love within us. The psalm from today’s Mass is perhaps judicious at this time. It speaks about a good shepherd, one who can lead and comfort people even in the harshness of a turmoil that to us seems insoluble. When the two disciples on the road to Emmaus were walking through their own valley of darkness, they experienced the presence of the Risen Lord. They found their consolation in what they had witnessed. Where though did Jesus go when he vanished before their eyes? The theologian Hans von Balthasar says that Jesus vanished so as to be made present in the Church; in you and in me and in all who believe in him. Today in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre Jerusalem, the church built over the site of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus, the eucharist will be celebrated, the bread will be broken and shared, and the presence of Christ will be made real in the people gathered there, just as he is made real for us as we gather here in Wollaton, Aspley and Bilborough. This is our koinonia, our communion, our solidarity as children made in the image and likeness of God, with the people of Gaza and Israel, with the people of Ukraine and Russia, and with all who are suffering the turmoil of war as they walk through the dark valley.

It may not sound enough. But I remember a former parish priest of these parts, who when asked in the light of an outbreak of violence and warfare, what his contribution to peace would be responded without hesitation: the celebration of the eucharist. We may feel that sounds strange, but it moves our hearts and minds towards a response we can all participate in and become engaged with. We pray and hope for peace and reconciliation.