Last week was Good Friday, where we took some time to reflect on the impact of Jesus’ sacrificial death for each of us. This year I was blessed to have the opportunity to lead chapel services on that day with some of the men who reside at the maximum security prison I work in as a chaplain.

On Easter Monday, we heard the news that Pope Francis had passed from this world to the next and received his eternal reward. I quite liked Pope Francis as his theology and focus was in line with what I believe – that there is power in ministering to and spending time with the people that society generally turns away from, like prisoners.

A few days after this news we, in Australia, shared one of our significant days in ANZAC Day. It is our national day of remembrance and reflection. Not only an opportunity to remember those who gave the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom in this country, but to honour all those who serve and have served in the defence forces over the years.

The following day, during the Requiem Mass for Pope Francis and as I observed a crowd of people packed into St Peter’s Square as the rites of the Roman Catholic Church were on display but also beamed across the world, it dawned on me that there had been a strong focus on death and sacrifice in the past eight days and that each had a similar theme interwoven through them all.

Jesus laid down his life for the sake of all, our ANZAC soldiers risk their lives for our safety and Pope Francis gave all he had for the causes he believed in and in service to his church.

Please don’t mishear me. I am not suggesting that all three examples are equal in importance. It goes without saying that Jesus’ death has no rival, nor will it ever, but each sacrifice has an element of ‘others’ about it.

In this day and age where we focus on the individual above all else it struck me as significant that these events were in such quick succession and it was time to reflect on what this might mean for me. How do I live my life or, more importantly, who do I live it for?

Some may say that choosing to be an ordained minister in The Salvation Army has had costs for me. Some are financial, some of them are about losing control over where I might live and how I might be asked to serve. Why do I do this? I believe it is what God has asked of me.

Does that mean that every minute of every day I am putting the needs of the people I serve above my own? Certainly not. I am ashamed to say that there are times when my selfish needs and desires take precedence over the needs of and service for others. I am a flawed work-in-progress, as are we all.

I guess what has struck me the most is the response of others to the lives given. Good Friday, ANZAC Day and the death of a church patriarch demonstrated the depth of the sacrifice through the observances and reflections of those left behind. How people gather to honour and remember the life given is, I believe, the key I needed to find.

There is a line of a Salvation Army hymn that has been running through my mind as I wonder what may be said when the time comes for me to leave my earthly remains behind. The song, written by Malcolm Bale is as follows:

O Lord, whose human hands were quick
To feed the hungry, heal the sick,
Who love by loving deed expressed,
Help me to comfort the distressed.

What is divine about my creed
If I am blind to human need?
For You have said they serve You best
Who serve the helpless and oppressed.

Lord, may Your love translucent shine
Through every loving deed of mine,
That all may see the works I do
And give the glory all to You. (emphasis mine)
(Song 1003, Salvation Army Songbook 2015)

May you, too, consider who it is you live for. As for me and my life? My earnest prayer is that as people see me they witness Jesus at work in and through me and give Him the glory. Always.

Be blessed.