At the time I was pastor of Clubmoor Presbyterian Church, not far from Liverpool's home ground, Anfield Football stadium. They were difficult days. The tragedy was compounded by a huge police cover up alongside hostile reaction from the press, in particular 'The Sun' newspaper. The morning after the disaster we had a service of infant baptism and communion. I was a bag of conflicting emotions... and had I not kept a copy of the services that day, probably wouldn't remember a word of what was said.
As a remembrance of that time... I share the notes and prayer from morning worship the following day. Not because they are particularly profound or insightful, but because they were part of the way a community journeyed through a time of sorrow. Though now part of my past, some things just never leave you.
“NEW-LIFE AND TRAGEDY”
Service of Baptism and Communion
Scripture: 1 Corinthians 12:12-26
Preached at Clubmoor Presbyterian Church, Liverpool, April 16th, 1989
Text: verse 26 “If one part of the body suffers, all other parts suffer with it, if one part is praised, all the other parts share its happiness”
Yesterday morning, I had something all prepared to say. I was going to do a short meditation linking the joy of baptism to the celebration of communion. I thought there would be great celebrations to be had, a day of victory and rejoicing. But then came the tragic events at Sheffield Wednesdays ground, Hillsborough.
We may not all be interested in football. But the grief and sadness will touch us all, living as we do, just a stones throw from the football stadium where those who lost their lives supported their team. I started listening to the match on the car radio and at first thought, 'Oh no, not more trouble', as reports came in about people on the pitch. Then the reports became more conflicting. A fatality feared. Throughout the evening the full extent of the tragedy unfolded and the real horror of what had taken place.
St. Paul wrote to Corinth. “If one part of the body suffers, all other parts suffer with it, if one part is praised, all the other parts share its happiness”. Although these words were written in the context of the church, on a day like today they seem to have an added significance. How can we not feel grief, anger and frustration at what has happened?
Knowing that so many have been bereaved, and so many injured, we cannot but feel something of their pain. It's in the air. It is pervading the very atmosphere of this city. We may feel anger and want someone to blame; the Football Association, the police, the management at the ground, even God for allowing such life to be lost. No doubt fingers will be pointed, accusations made, official inquiries pursued.
There is still a sense of unreality. Something in us is hoping that we will wake up and find it is just a nightmare, that it hasn't really happened. Something in us wants to deny it is as bad as we are told. Some of you were rejoicing yesterday as Everton made it through to the finals, but that rejoicing has turned to an empty numbness as you have realized that what has happened could have been at your game.
Today, in this service, we are surrounded by contradiction. We have administered the sacrament of baptism to a baby. We are delighted at this new-life now dedicated to God. It would be right to rejoice and be thankful. New life. New hope.
At the close of the service we come to the communion table and we focus on Jesus who died for our sins and was raised to give eternal life. We focus on great hope for the world, the Jesus who said 'I am the Resurrection and the Life', the One whom death could not hold . And we do all this in the awareness of the tragedy that has taken place.
I don't know how to emotionally deal with this. The only thing I have experienced that even comes close is the day that my daughter Helen was born. I called my parents with the news that their first grandchildren had arrived that morning, only to be told, that at the same hour their grandchild had been born, my grandmother had passed away. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Part of me said 'Rejoice', part of me said 'No you can't... your last remaining grandparent just died!”
I feel that same confusing bundle of emotions this morning. I don't want to detract in any way from the celebration of baptism, or from the message of hope that is such a part of the communion service, but neither in any way do I want to take away from the corporate grief and sadness we all feel.
Again I come back to the words of St. Paul. “If one part of the body suffers, all other parts suffer with it, if one part is praised, all the other parts share its happiness”. Part of us wants to share the happiness of worship, another part just wants to dwell on the great suffering of this moment in time.
There really is not much that words can say right now. We are all too close to the events. There can be no real understanding till we have had the chance to grieve. As yet we haven't. After Jesus was crucified, even then there was space to grieve. He did not rise till the third day. When He met the men on the Emmaus road, He didn't plow into them with a whole lot of reasons why He had been crucified. He just walked with them and asked them to tell Him their story.
There's going to be a lot of story telling in the coming weeks. One thing we can do is be prepared to listen. To allow people to tell us of their grief. It can't be bottled up. It needs to come out. The eyes of the world will be on Liverpool today. People will be praying for those bereaved and those in hospital. But beyond that they will also see how the tragedy is responded to. Will the 'family spirit', something Scousers are famed for, be enough to pull us through? Or will this be a grief to deep to recover from?
I must confess I'm not one of those people that believes that good can always come from the worst of events. I am not a natural optimist. Yet I do believe that God can bring something out of tragedy... other than bitterness or hatred or anger or guilt. As it is right now, I can't see what good can come out of this tragedy, but the days are early.
One thing I can declare though. That as I held onto that baby earlier in the service, that as I baptized him in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit – I held in my arms... new-life.
We know there is sadness, but we must hold on to life, for the sake of our little ones. Grief must be overcome, our pain must not be laid on their shoulders. For they have their own lives to bear, and who knows what the future may bring?
Moving on from there; as I was thinking about communion this morning, I was drawn to the words that Jesus spoke from His Cross of pain and desolation. “My God, My God, Why have you forsaken me? Why have You abandoned me?”
Surely that cry will be in many grieving hearts today. The only point of comfort I can find is that Jesus has been there. That in Christ, God feels our pain and shares in it, even now. If it were not so, then it would be pointless to turn to God in our grief.
At one level communion speaks of death, of a broken body, of a heart torn apart by grief, of a life crushed by the weight of a world whose decisions are often wrong. One who saw that in the midst of life, we find all is snatched from us. Another scripture describes Jesus as 'A man of sorrows, well acquainted with grief'. His life shows that He was one who faced tragedy, not as some kind of superman, but experiencing the same pains and trauma that humanity knows only to well.
At another level communion speaks of resurrection. But to be honest, today feels more like Good Friday that Easter Sunday. Before I can contemplate resurrection, faced with the grief around us today, I need to know that that Jesus knows how that grief feels.
When I look to the Cross, I find that assurance. When I look to the Cross, I can see something of the Father heart of God, that makes God, not distant, but here, and in the quiet sharing in our pain. I invite you then to come and share in this communion. As we do so, let us bring our anger, our grief, and our frustration to God. Let us lay our feelings at the foot of the Cross that Christ may deal with them.
Let us also in silence pray for those who grieve, for those who are injured, and for those in shock who will relive the situation time and time again.
Above all let us seek the peace of God. It is a peace I don't understand, for it passes understanding. Yet that is the peace which must filter though our confusion, our emotions and whatever else we feel, for that peace alone can give us the stability to face the days that lie ahead. 'Though we are weak, He is strong.' To God's name be the glory. Amen.
Prayer
Lord God, Who sees all and knows all, our hearts are heavy this morning. The city is quiet and subdued and sorrow has come upon us. We echo the cry of the Psalmist who has written, “Why are You so far away, O Lord? Why do You hide Yourself when we are in trouble?” Many Lord feel a great anger, for others that anger is buried beneath their grief.
We pray for those who mourn the loss of family. Be Lord their comfort. For those recovering in hospitals, for those anxious about friends, come Lord to their aid. For those in shock, who are reliving yesterdays trauma, grant them Lord, Your peace.
At such times we feel a great sense of helplessness. Teach us to trust in You. We want to ask 'Why?'... but know it is a fruitless question. Teach us rather to ask 'How?'. How can we come through this tragedy and overcome our grief? How can we learn from mistakes that were made? How can we salvage some future from a desperate mess?
We are thankful for those who are helping and have aided the distressed. For the relief and hospital services, who even now work in urgency. For those who have opened up their homes to relatives. For signs of goodwill and genuine compassion.
Let us not forget that we are not the only ones to suffer, but that beyond our present darkness are the daily dramas of human existence. That life goes on, new-life blossoms and the sun continues to rise. As we seek for signs of hope, overcome our doubts and take us again to the cross. For there we see You are no stranger to suffering. Take us again to the empty tomb. For there we see that You can transform death to resurrection.
As we place our lives into Your hands, with all our questions, our anger, our feelings of helplessness... send to us Your Holy Spirit, the Comforter and Guide, that we may know the strength of Your peace, to sustain us in coming days. We offer these, and the many unspoken prayers, to You. Amen.
Rev. Adrian J. Pratt B.D.
