May 2003

Though the accounts differ in detail, the gospel records tell us of the women visiting the garden tomb where Jesus' body had been placed, very early the morning of Christ's resurrection.

Mark's account tells of three women going to the tomb that morning, so they can anoint the crucified body of Jesus for burial. On their way they remember that the opening to the tomb has been sealed with a stone. In the early light of day they ask each other: "Who will roll the stone away from the entrance to the tomb?" If they can't go into the tomb, they can't complete their loving task. They knew what they had to do; anointing bodies was a familiar task. But not this body! This was a body that they could only associate with life, not death. They had images of him striding confidently along the roads of Galilee; kneeling with a sick child pouring love into her till she recovered and smiled; riding into Jerusalem on that young colt and everyone going wild with excitement.

So this time it was different. It made no sense. Everything seemed to have collapsed around them — all hope and anticipation seemed to have died. Now it was over. It was all over. No longer would they hear new things about themselves, about God, about the kingdom of God and learning how to recognise it among them.

In our individual lives, we often find ourselves facing the death of loved ones, the end of relationships, the loss of something that has been part of our life and we wonder what, if anything, will happen next.

At certain times in congregations and the wider church we find ourselves marking the end, the death of something we treasure. Like these women we find ourselves needing to come to terms with what has happened to "anoint the body".

With the destruction caused by the war in Iraq, many people seek ways to help in the restoration of the people and the fabric of their common wealth. So how can that be done?

"Walking Together", the Assembly Cross-Cultural consultation in March, allowed people of Aboriginal and other language groups across Australia to share stories of faith in large and small communities.

In brief visits to West Wyalong, Ardlethan, Griffith, Hay and the Lower Newell Parish, I valued the trust of people responding openly when asked about the effects of drought on their personal and community life. I heard their warm appreciation of congregations (and Synod) that support them through donations of money, of individuals giving time to be in practical ministry in school classes, services and visiting, and the need for ongoing financial assistance as the drought bites deeper and deeper.

Visiting Claughton House at Hay and meeting John and Margaret Ely — house parents — I became more aware of this unique hostel, a ministry of the Uniting Church, struggling financially to care for isolated school children. I recalled this visit later in the month at the opening of MLC Burwood's new aquatic centre.

Hosting a gathering for retired ministers, spouses, widows and deaconesses we heard how one family survives on a drought-affected property in the state's west and of new ventures in the Board of Education and ELM (Education for Life Ministry).

Walking in the Sydney Palm Sunday March beginning with worship (Christian and other faiths) the questions "What do we want?" "When do we want it?" and their responses gave way to a chant "All we are asking is give peace a chance". I found myself much more at peace as people walked quietly.

The women going to the tomb that first Easter day found that the stone had been rolled away. The tomb was empty. Jesus' body was not there. They did not know or realise what had happened. God had opened the way to the future.

I have been challenged this Easter season by a comment from someone that Christians these days do not live the resurrection life — that we do not act as if God is, nor do we allow God to be, at work in us.

In dark and seemingly helpless situations, there is always a way ahead. That is when God surprises us yet again as he did that first Easter day — for Jesus who was dead, is alive, going before us.