One Year On - Remembering Mark

It's a year today since Mark Autherson died*. So when we met as a staircase group for prayers this morning I took the opportunity to remember Mark, and to offer the opportunity for people to light a candle in memory of people they have loved and lost.

I used music and pictures alongside the first part of Psalm 139, a piece of prose, and some prayers from the Anglican funeral and memorial services. I wasn't prepared for the raw emotions that would surface, and while I had warned people that it would be quiet and reflective I should also have told them to bring tissues and waterproof make-up.

I used the song 'Perfect Sacrifice' by Trent Vineyard's worship band 'Trent' (go to i-tunes, search for the song title, then buy the whole live album!). Listen to the words carefully - the song was written after the sudden death of a church member, and talks of the continuing hope that his widow had in Jesus, at a time when she could either have run from God or run to Him. Christians believe in life after death - death is just a horizon that we can't see beyond, and it's not something we need to be afraid of.


*see my entry from October 24th 2008

Light and Dark

"The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not put it out" - John 1 verse 5.

Last Sunday night, whilst the family were warmly tucked up in their cosy villa at Center Parcs, I was making my way back to Cambridge in order not to miss fun-packed lectures on Monday morning. This meant that I had to cycle about 6 miles to the nearest railway station, from where I could get a train back home. Being night it was dark, and when I set out the moon was shining down from a clear sky. I was looking forward to my moonlit crossing of Thetford Forest. However by the time I got out onto the road it had clouded over - there was little light coming from the sky, and my tiny little bike light wasn't much use in helping me to make out the edge of the road. My eyes adapted and night vision kicked in quite quickly.

The occasional car overtook me, and for a while the light from them shining ahead of me was useful. And then cars started coming towards me. Even with their headlights dipped I was suddenly disoriented, and had to slow down and almost come to a stop to ensure that I didn't steer into their path. My little light was insignificant compared to the headlights, but it still shone, and was still there. It's at this point that you are waiting for the great analogy with Jesus. You're going to have to wait.

On Tuesday it was Mark Autherson's funeral, which you can read about on his blog: http://pleasepray4markautherson.blogspot.com/2008/11/marks-funeral-time-to-remember-marks.html.
It was an emotional event, and a number of us at Ridley are struggling with the 'why Mark?' question. A man taken from us far too early, leaving a young wife and 3 small children. I just can't cope with seeing a woman younger than me carrying a baby into her husband's funeral. I did a lot of crying in that church. Despite the brilliant sunshine outside lighting up the bright and airy church, despite the celebration of his life, despite the warm stories and emotional tributes and the reassurance that Mark is now free of pain and with Jesus, it was still a dark day.

But as I've been reflecting about it this week I keep coming back to that cycle ride through the forest. It was dark, but my little bike light was shining. Occasionally it was overpowered or overtaken by a brighter light, which allowed me a brief glimpse of the road ahead. But at no point did the darkness win. There was always a light shining in the darkness. My light was nothing compared to the glory of the bigger light, but it was still contributing in keeping the darkness at bay.

Never let your light go out.

"The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not put it out"