In Glazeley Church, there is a stained glass window next to the pulpit, in memory of Lt Philip Crooks, who was killed in the First World War. It is a fine piece of work; it shows Philip, drawn from a photograph welcomed by angels; actually portraits of his sisters. In the background is a field of wheat, ready for harvest; apparently a sign that, at 21, Philip’s work was done. He is greeted by the risen Christ. Back in August, we welcomed the Bishop of Hereford to Glazeley to mark the 150th anniversary of the present building. He admired the window, but then added; “of course, it is theologically indefensible”. As a mere assistant curate, I did not press him on this, but merely nodded my head in agreement. But I suspect what disturbed him is what also disturbs me about the window; the risen Jesus holds out his hands to welcome Philip, but they are unmarked. In the Gospels, Jesus carried the marks of the nails on his hands and feet; the wound from the spear in his side. I think this says something very profound about the meaning of resurrection. It is indeed the triumph of Jesus over the grave, but that triumph does not wipe away scars from past suffering; memories are not wiped clean. Instead past pain is transfigured; the scars remain but they no longer have power to hurt. Easter is not about magic, it is about transformation.
Rev David Poyer