Village Shepherd

When I went over to Sweden in February with a Diocesan party of ten priests, I was amazed to discover how familiar everything felt. The language was completely different and I don't speak a word of Swedish, there was six foot of snow everywhere in a very sparsely populated land of thick pine forests, but I still felt very much at home. This was partly to do with the warm welcome and the hospitality we received, but it was more than that. Perhaps it went way back to common ancestors in the Vikings, so that as people we've developed with similar ideas and tastes and senses of humour.

I've been to other countries, not necessarily very far away, which have felt so unfamiliar that I've been quite disorientated at times. There's been a foreignness which has emphasised the differences in ideas and culture and which has felt quite strange, at least in the beginning.

Some books in the Bible have a similar effect on me. Some books feel familiar and I'm able to identify with them, but others feel so strange and foreign that I find it difficult to get into the mindset of the authors. The epistle to the Hebrews is one of these. It feels so very Jewish and so very distant in terms of time and customs, that I find it difficult to really understand. The ideas in it are strange to me and it isn't easy to get a feel for it.

Nobody quite knows who wrote the letter to the Hebrews, or indeed, whether it was a letter at all. It might have been an early written sermon. A reference to Timothy in chapter 13 (v. 23) suggests that there might have been links to Paul's circle, but the book is unlikely to have been written by Paul himself. Although it's thought to have been written possibly before the fall of Jerusalem in AD 70, already even at that comparatively early stage the book addresses a growing weariness with and indifference to the demands of Christianity (Hebrews 2:1; 4:14; 6:1-12; 10:23-32).

The author's main theme is the priesthood and sacrifice of Jesus (Hebrews 3-10), and in today's reading the author speaks about Jesus as "a priest forever, according to the order of Melchizedek" and "a high priest according to the order of Melchizedek".

But perhaps the most intriguing verse in today's reading from Hebrews is verse 7, where the author says, "In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission."

Was he heard? On the cross Jesus cried out, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" And then he died. So how was he heard by the one who was able to save him from death? He wasn't saved from death. He died just as we all die and the appalling circumstances of his death make it look as though the reverse is true, that he wasn't heard no matter how much he wept and prayed and no matter how reverent his submission.

When somebody is very ill, one of the problems with prayers for healing is that they so often don't appear to be heard, because the person dies. That can leave those who pray feeling very guilty or very insecure, as though their prayers weren't good enough or they didn't have enough faith. It can often feel as though it's their fault that the person prayed for didn't have a miraculous healing.

But this was exactly what happened to Jesus. He prayed for life and he died. Yet the author of Hebrews sees this as "he prayed to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission."

Perhaps the answer is that we can't take the cross in isolation. It can be understood in part if it stands alone, for we all go through times of mini-crucifixion when awful things happen in our lives and in which we experience horror and agony and darkness and often the absence of God. At such times we can identify with Jesus and face our own mini-crucifixion armed with the knowledge that Jesus has been there before us and knows how it feels.

But to look at the cross in its entirety we must include the resurrection. This is the point of view of the author of Hebrews. He sees Jesus as very much alive in a new, wonderful, radiant sort of life in some different dimension beyond death. And this is the message which God is so anxious we should hear. God is so anxious that we should hear it that he sent his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. (John 3:16)

We do die in this life, many times. We all have mini-deaths or mini-crucifixions because that's the nature of human life. We have good times and we have bad times, just as Jesus had good times and bad times. Our bodies eventually die, never to be used on this earth again, just as Jesus' body eventually died and was never used on this earth again.

But Jesus hung in there, facing the bad times and refusing to give up on love or forgiveness, and as a result Jesus was seen again after death, in a new body which was rarely recognised even by his closest friends and which was healed and fit and well. What we call "death" was but a gateway into a new and different and wonderful life.

We frequently experience this on this earth. Things go horribly and appallingly wrong and it feels like the end of everything we hold dear, but eventually, if we hang in there, things get better and new and different doorways open into a new kind of life which is often even better than the former life. The same thing happens after our final death in this life. A new doorway opens and we move into a new and different and wonderful life.

So perhaps the writer of Hebrews was right after all. "In the days of his flesh, Jesus offered up prayers and supplications, with loud cries and tears, to the one who was able to save him from death, and he was heard because of his reverent submission."

And God promises the same for all of us. So keep on praying, for your prayers will always be heard and will always be answered.