After the run through of the Easter services yesterday I ended up with a colleague speaking to a young homeless couple who are sleeping near the cathedral. I’m not going to share too much out of respect and dignity but I was struck by a comment when we asked if they had been to the cathedral to ask for food :’we don’t like to because we feel embarrassed by asking’
Yesterday I felt helpless and hopeless. I wanted to help but, beyond giving them a little of my time and a bag of food from the cathedral store, there was little we could do. The local authority is not helping because they don’t have ID.
I got home and was quite struck by my helplessness and felt quite hopeless. I had spent a day reading and writing and then rehearsing, while outside those that Jesus came for as well were hungry and shivering.
I was particularly moved by the vulnerability of this couple. The hopelessness of their situation. Here were the son and daughter of someone, here were children of God, here was God himself asking to be cared for. Today I still feel ‘heavy’ as I acknowledge my limitations and take on an understanding that Jesus also had to walk away from situations.
In a way I think this, in a different light, is possibly how some of the disciples felt during this week. They could see their friend arrested, beaten, moved between Pilate and Herod and wanting to help. A burning inside them that demanded they do something to make the situation better. A sickening rising within them as they realised there was nothing that they could do.
The hopelessness of Easter precedes the joy.