Reflection - God’s Story, Our Story: Hope Growing

by Rev Jenny Potter

I was given a plant just before I left Toowoomba for Longreach, an Anthurium with glossy leaves and bright red flowers. It has produced no flowers since I got here, and over the summer I have watched as old leaves withered and new leaves never made it to maturity. As I look today it has three withering leaves left. It is not looking good.

BUT… I’ve moved it away from the drying breezes and we’ve had some cooler rainy weather. At the base of the plant are several new shoots, slowly emerging from the dead stalks that remain. There is hope growing.

There are times when we need signs of new life. I was ordained in December 2015, then life fell apart. Almost immediately my husband Chris was diagnosed with young onset dementia. In 2017 our town, Proserpine, was damaged by cyclone Debbie. By 2019 the better option was for Chris to go into residential care. Within three months he died suddenly, Mum helped me pack up, I started a new placement as a Hospital Chaplain in Toowoomba and bought a house. 2020 had to be a better year, right?

Not quite. I was a hospital chaplain during a pandemic, my Mum was diagnosed with lymphoma. She died within months. In May 2021 I dismounted from my new horse and destroyed my ACL. An abdominal mass diagnosed in 2022 (thankfully benign) required more surgery. In September 2023 I was told that public hospital chaplaincy would no longer be funded in the new financial year.
I look for signs of hope in a new placement. I see the green shoots of new life in a dry land. Shoots of resilience, trust, deepening spirituality, greater maturity and strength. Joy bubbles again.

We read John’s gospel knowing the end of the story and so approach it with excitement. We can’t wait to get there, we anticipate the empty tomb. I wonder if we really enter into grief and disillusionment with Mary Magdalen and the Twelve? I think it is time in the shadows that makes the brightness of new life shine more brilliantly.

Mary grieves. She goes to serve her Rabbi in the only way left to her - to anoint his life-less body. Then, panic - it is not there! No wonder she could not understand, only go and tell the bald facts to the others. How heartbreaking! Logic says a missing dead body must have been moved, who would do such a cruel thing? She cannot anoint him, cannot grieve alongside his remains. The others come, check the tomb, go home. She stays at the last place she saw him, she checks the tomb yet again - there are figures seated where Jesus had been.
Surely she didn’t see these strangers go in? Still focused on finding Jesus, she turns away from their questioning and sees another figure. The gardener? He might know where Jesus’ body is! And Jesus says her name. “Mary.” Suddenly … her full attention. “Rabbi!” Good news to share indeed!

Key Questions
As you reflect on your life and our Church, where have you seen old leaves withering and flowers dying?
Are there things that you need to grieve before green shoots of hope can emerge?