Reading the church media over the past week, and probably for the succeeding one, would leave many people with the impression that the boundary between church and monarchy is virtually indecipherable. I find this elision of faith in God with a longing for worldly pomp and circumstance deeply disturbing.
Through the Gospel of resurrection, says Savi Hensman, God is not just a remote ruler, but intimately present, able to empower the despairing and defeated so that they can play their part in transforming the world.
A setting by an 18th century German composer of a translation into his own tongue of a Greek account of the trial and execution of an Iron Age Mediterranean religious radical, performed in a 15th century English church. This cultural, artistic and creative hybrid has enabled Jill Segger to think afresh about the death of Jesus and its meaning.
Having just finished my own initial reflections on the meaning of Easter, as refracted through two connected mini-dramas marked on Holy Thursday, I came across this arresting short piece (if you'll pardon the pun, given its topic) by Nathan Schneider.
Good Friday and Easter Sunday we have some comprehension of (or so we think). But what on earth is Holy Thursday all about? Simon Barrow explores two actions in the story which embody, practically and theologically, both the awful tragedy and the true hope of Christianity in a world circumscribed by the use and absue of power.
There may be no direct route from the politics of Jesus' day to the politics of modern Britain, but there are embodied principles and narratives in the Gospel which directly challenge the marginalisation of the poor and the use of ideology (religious or otherwise) to prop up the status quo, says Jonathan Bartley. These have a good deal to say to us as we assess the Spending Review and those it benefits and penalises.