Dear Friends

When someone believes in you, it’s amazing the confidence it gives you, and what you can do. And when you believe in another person, imagine what confidence that can give them. It’s love in action.

I’m mulling over the reading we had in Church recently telling of Jesus at a wedding in Cana, when he turned the water into wine (John 2:1-11). It’s what might have been going on ‘behind the scenes’ that has captured my imagination.

I’ve been imagining the conversation between Mary and her son, Jesus, as they walk to the wedding. By now, several of Mary’s younger children will have got married, and she’s probably a grandma. Maybe she’s letting Jesus know (again!) that a good wife will help him no end, in whatever demanding but as yet unclear path lies ahead. “So look out for nice girls today. I met your father at a wedding.”

Jesus tells her he doesn’t have time for marriage. Things are starting to happen – now he’s been baptised by John and people have started following him like a Rabbi.

But Mary thinks that makes it more important than ever to have a wife. But she always finds these conversations difficult on her own and misses her husband Joseph who could talk man to man with Jesus.

When Jesus asks his mother not to embarrass him at the wedding, he’s mostly thinking about how she might try to set him up with a girl. “Priscilla may not be in the first flush of youth, but she’s still lovely and such a hard worker. She’s always been sweet on you. I know it’s different for a man but you are 30. You’re not the catch you were.”

So a few hours later when the wedding’s in full swing, and Jesus sees his mother making her way purposefully over to him, he thinks he knows what’s on her mind. Then he sees she’s dragging a couple of servants along with her, and he’s ready to disappear. What can she want? He suddenly becomes aware that he’s standing there with his mouth open, having been totally distracted while in full flow to his friends, who are now looking curiously at him.

“Excuse me a moment” he says and takes a few steps away from his friends just as his mother reaches him. “They’ve run out of wine, Jesus.”

For a moment, Jesus is carried away to his childhood. His mother used that look and that tone of voice when people brought broken furniture to his father to fix. They would come to the house and leave a broken table with his mother. She’d bring it to the workshop behind the house where Jesus was helping his father and say, just in that tone of voice: “Here’s a table for you, Joseph.” She had total confidence he could fix it.

A cacophony of voices spoke in Jesus’ head. He heard his own voice trail off as he complained: “Woman, why do you involve me? My time has not yet come!.” He knew he had to fix it. And his mother seemed to know it too. “Do whatever he tells you,” she said to the servants and took a step back.

Jesus felt a thrill of excitement, and a surge of confidence. He could do this. He was born to do this. Somehow he knew exactly what to do next. It was so crazy he laughed out loud. Fresh water was almost as difficult to find as wine, but when he asked for it, the servants kept bringing it until the big stone jars were filled.

Once or twice Jesus looked at the vast quantity of water and wondered if he’d have been better off starting with a few glasses. But he drew confidence each time he looked at his mother, who was watching him with pride and joy as if it had been his wedding day.

And the wine was exquisite. For a while nobody but the servants and his disciples knew what had happened. But that didn’t last long. Not at a small village wedding.

Many hours later as they left the party, Mary couldn’t stop herself from asking Jesus “Did you dance with any nice girls tonight?”
Jesus smiled in a long-suffering sort of way. He looked at her guilty expression.
“I think we’d better all go down to Capernaum for a few days tomorrow” she said.
“Why’s that?” said Jesus.
“Why do you think?” said his mother.
“Because the wine dealers will be upset with me?
“No.”
“Because people will be queueing up at our house with jars of water?”
“No”.
“Why then?”
“See! You don’t know everything yet. I invited Priscilla’s family round to our house tomorrow.”

With love

Graham

Dear Friends,

Most of you will know that a small section of one of our stained-glass windows in Church has been featured in the Royal Mail’s Christmas stamp collection. You can see the stamp and the window on page 17 in this issue. For me, it’s a window of opportunity for my Christmas letter!

Windows convey the light into what would otherwise be dark places. Individual panels in a large window are known as ‘lights’. Stained glass windows, with biblical scenes and stories, not only convey physical light but also spiritual light. And we are called to be lights to the world, now more than ever, bearers of light into the dark.

The nativity window in our South Transept has been lighting up the inner darkness since 1862. Perhaps, like me, you’ve seen a burst of sunshine bring it dramatically to life when a magnificent array of colour pours through into Church. Occasionally that happens in a service and it is magical.

The artist made no attempt to make the characters in the story realistic, only beautiful. Mary, with lovely yellow hair, is dressed in fine flowing robes like a wealthy lady or a queen. And the baby Jesus is an exquisite mini-person whose body language suggests he could be preaching the sermon! Both are very ‘white’ and non-Middle Eastern. The shepherds (not pictured on the stamp) are also very white and richly dressed, hardly reflecting their lowly social position in Palestine. And the magi of the bible have become 3 kings.

And yet I don’t think many people will have been questioning the realism, but will rather have been admiring the beauty of the window. And will have been ‘re-membering’, as we are today, the familiar story they know so well from the bible.

Perhaps it’s right that Mary and Jesus look smart and beautiful, representing the beauty in them and in so many people who are outwardly poor and vulnerable, but to whom belong the kingdom of God (Luke 6:20). It may help us glimpse the present reality and the future promise that God has lifted up the humble, as Mary proclaims in her song of praise to God (Luke 1:52).

The windows in this particular corner of Church not only tell the story of the birth of Jesus, but also of his death and resurrection, making it a wonderful place to go and contemplate Jesus at the centre of everything. And to allow the word of God to take flesh in our own heart.

You may have heard a brief radio interview I did on Radio Leeds one morning recently before I woke up properly. What I didn’t get a chance to say was: the window speaks to me of beauty and vulnerability.

This is a time when so many of us all around the world are feeling our own vulnerability, and that of dearly loved family and friends. We fear for the increased vulnerability of those near and far away who are ‘on the front line’ or have few resources, or both. And we fear that so much of the goodness we know in the world is vulnerable to dark vested interests and powers (Ephesians 6:12).

So in this context, it is immensely telling, and hopeful, that the whole of history pivots precariously on this one vulnerable child in whom God shares and embraces our human vulnerability, and who will die at the hands of powerful vested interests. But it will turn out to be a victory not a defeat. And so we are invited to embrace our vulnerability and trust the loving purposes of God who, in the midst of a troubled world, offers us peace in Jesus.

Beauty? God, the artist, sees the beauty in you and me. He asks us to see it in others too. We don’t have to pretend we’re anything other than faulty works in progress, but like any loving parent God is determined to paint us as beautiful and show off our good points! So let the light shine through! You are loved and treasured.

If you’re like me, the window might need a bit of cleaning, but no better time to do it than in Advent.

Christmas will indeed be different, but fuller than ever of good news. Including you and I letting our light shine and (with the angels) glorifying God.

Have a wonderful and happy Christmas.

With my love and prayers.

Graham

Dear Friends,

This weekend’s edition of the ‘i’ national morning newspaper had a two-page spread entitled ‘Survival Guide: How to be Happy’.

A dozen experts shared their ideas on improving life in our current circumstances. They are fine as far as they go with lots of wisdom and helpful tips – things to be aware of, things to tell ourselves, the importance of exercise, diet and sleep, of ‘letting go’, nurturing our relationships, using technology to connect, being gentle with ourselves and so on.

The article concludes with a question: what advice or help would you like to see in our next survival guide? I took that to mean two things – what help/advice we need, and what help/advice we have to offer.

It made me wonder if there is an explicitly Christian angle on this.

The bible contains various writings that together are called ‘Wisdom Literature’. Most obviously these are found in the books of Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Job. But also in the well-crafted teaching stories of Joseph, Ruth and Jonah. Jesus’ parables are in the same tradition as teaching stories. And Jesus himself is the “wisdom from God” (1 Corinthians 1:24).

The ancient world had its places of learning, as in Babylon (where Daniel and his three friends were taken into exile) or the court of King Solomon who impressed the Queen of Sheba with his wisdom.

Undoubtedly there were practical subjects studied, in building, metalwork, biology and study of everything in the world around from the heavens above to deep down in the earth where copper and precious stones were mined.

But most of all, Wisdom Literature is concerned with how to live a good life. The first chapters of the Book of Proverbs are addressed to a young man advising him how to live well, follow the way of Wisdom and avoid Folly’s enticing charm. It is a mixture of moral teaching and life experience (“if you do this, then this will be the result”).

Wisdom Literature in the Bible draws on wisdom and stories from other countries and cultures, and we see this (for example) in the Book of Proverbs, which reproduces some proverbs from Egypt (Proverbs 22:17 – 24:22) or the Book of Job, which is set in the land of Uz, not in Israel.

BUT – although Israel and biblical teaching draw on resources of wisdom from other nations and cultures, the starting point for how to live a good life, how to live at all is this: “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10).

Fear of the LORD (Yahweh) is NOT about being afraid of God (though there are times when we should be!) but really the same thing as Jesus meant when he taught us to pray ‘Hallowed be your Name’. It’s about honouring, respecting, and accepting the authority of God as the creator and giver of everything.

In the story of the Garden of Eden (a wisdom story), the fruit of the forbidden tree is “… desirable for gaining wisdom” (Genesis 3:6). So when Adam and Eve eat it, their mistake is to seek wisdom without the fear of the LORD.

SO – what does that mean for finding happiness today? (Gulp, how did I get myself into a position where I’m now going to have to answer that?!!)

We do well to listen to the various sources of human wisdom and learn from them, whether scientific or philosophical. But for us, living well, wisdom, and happiness all start with God.

Biblical faith does not focus on happiness or on self-fulfilment as ends in themselves. They are found as a result of living well. We read more about faith, hope and love, about joy, peace and all the fruit of God’s transformational work in us through the Spirit. St Paul writes that he has learned the art of being content in all circumstances. He writes about perseverance producing character and character hope (Romans 5:3).

Much as we (like Adam and Eve) desire to control our own destinies, we must start with our dependence on God. That dependence opens up the way to knowing ourselves loved and forgiven, and we are drawn into the network of sustaining and challenging relationships that is the Body of Christ.

And together as that Body, as well as individually, we become a place where God lives by his Spirit. And nothing – trouble, hardship, persecution, famine, danger, violence, and especially death will be able to separate us from the love of God we have come to know in Jesus (Romans 8:35-39).

I don’t think this will always bring “happiness”. But I’m sure it’s the foundation for living well.

My love and best wishes,

Graham

 

Dear friends,

Unsurprising, I’ve been thinking about Seedtime and Harvest. While searching for material for our worship, I came across a quiz which asked you to match the seed to the plant it would grow into. I’m bad enough at identifying plants, but hopeless at knowing which seed is which.

A seed isn’t like a small version of what it will grow into. The seed has to ‘die’ in the soil and it brings to life something different, something hidden and extraordinary.

It’s wonderful to see the joy and wonder that young children have in planting seeds and watching things grow. I know that many of you still have this child-like joy when you grow things in your garden or in pots on your windowsill.

Planting seeds is a metaphor for a process we all can relate to. We can sow seeds of doubt or hope or discord, of rebellion or of reconciliation. We may reap the rewards of our hard work or we may sow the seeds of our own destruction.

History is constantly looking to understand why events happen, and will always find the seeds of some future war or disaster, or political victory sowed many years before. The seeds of the First World War, or the Second World War, or Brexit, or the election of Donald Trump were all sowed over many years leading up to those events.

The thing there always is (much to the frustration of young children watching and waiting for carrots or sweet peas to grow in the school plot), is a time lag between sowing the seed and harvesting the crop.

And sometimes that time lag is a long time. Some seeds grow very slowly, and some can lie dormant for a long time. It takes a long time to grow an oak tree or an apple tree but it’s still vital to sow those seeds.

We are planting seeds in the lives of our children. At home. In school. Some seeds (for me everything in Physics and Chemistry and Geography!) will simply die through lack of use. Other seeds will be planted sparingly and with tears in the few moments of genuine communication with our grunting teenagers. But how often in later life we find out that those seeds have borne fruit and didn’t all die in the heat of those withering looks or the frosts of disdain!

A good question always is: what seeds are we now sowing? We are not going to set the world to rights tomorrow or even the day after tomorrow – but what seeds are we sowing that may bear fruit in their (God’s) time? The truth may be that we often don’t know. But asking the question, thinking about it and taking the long-term view is a good start.

It’s a good question because it doesn’t expect immediate results and that can be freeing as well as frustrating. We see the value of positive inputs that may be buried, covered in manure, but trust that the seeds will have their time.

But for me the BEST question now is: what seeds are God sowing? Seeds that will not bear fruit tomorrow but will have their time and will ensure that truth and beauty have their place replenished in a garden that could be overgrown with selfishness, greed and injustice. And not crowded out by the seeds of self-destruction that our world seems to love so much.

We know what most of the seeds are, don’t we? Every act of love. Every comforting word. Every appreciation of the good efforts of others. Every step to care for and advocate care for our environment. Every challenge to racial prejudice. Every effort to listen to God and to our neighbour. The just reward of labour. And so on.

Sowing seeds is sometimes a sacrifice. In many countries and sometimes even in our own, the seed we sow is from what we would otherwise eat. Perhaps that’s one reason why the sower may sow in tears. There are many reasons for those tears – we know some of them today only too well. And we know of other tears shed in situations we can scarcely imagine – both nearby and far away.

I’ve been deeply moved by Psalm 126. It’s written from the point of view of a people who sow in tears. They look back to God’s saving help in times of exile and remember the long-ago feelings of homecoming, of laughter and of joy.

Imagine a long pilgrimage to Jerusalem in hard times. The hungry crowd have done their best to cheer each other up along the weary way by telling stories of how God had helped them in days gone past. As they walk expectantly up the hill to the Temple the words of welcome fly on eagles’ wings into their hearts:

Those who sow in tears shall reap with songs of joy.

Those who go out weeping, carrying seed to sow,

will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with them.

I think these are the words of hope we need right now. For ourselves and all on our hearts. Hang in there!

With my love and prayers.

Graham

Psalm 126

A song of ascents.

¹ When the Lord restored the fortunes of^[a] Zion,
we were like those who dreamed.^[b]
2 Our mouths were filled with laughter,
our tongues with songs of joy.
Then it was said among the nations,
‘The Lord has done great things for them.’
³ The Lord has done great things for us,
and we are filled with joy.

⁴ Restore our fortunes,^[c] Lord,
like streams in the Negev.
⁵ Those who sow with tears
will reap with songs of joy.
⁶ Those who go out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with them.

 

Dear Friends,

Like Elvis Presley, we can be all shook up by love! But that’s (mostly!) a kindly shaking. We can be, and currently are, all shook up by much darker forces.

There is a prophecy in the Old Testament book of Haggai where God says:

I will once more shake the heavens and the earth, the sea and the dry land. I will shake all nations, and what is desired by all nations will come… (Haggai 2: 6/7).

This prophecy is recalled in the New Testament book of Hebrews, and applied to the coming of God’s kingdom. Everything will be shaken, and only what is permanent will remain.

Therefore, since we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, let us be thankful and so worship God acceptably with reverence and awe (Hebrews 12:28).

We see plenty of shaking up of people’s lives in news from around the world. We see the awful effects of war and natural disasters. People’s lives are so shaken that they become refugees from conflict, destitution, injustice and situations which have become intolerable. And many can’t escape and continue to live in barely imaginable conditions.

Here, the whole shaking up of a communal way of life is rare. Maybe we’ve only known it happen (on large scale) gradually, or through the time of the two world wars. Individually, of course, we can be very shaken by things that happen to us or those we love.

The sudden changes and shaking up that we are encountering through the Covid pandemic is unprecedented for most of us.

The people of ancient Israel were regularly shaken by conflict. They would have known much about the fragility of life. But nothing could have prepared them for the devastating change of being defeated by the Babylonian army and being exiled (about 590 BC) en masse to Babylon and other parts of the Babylonian empire.

All their securities were taken away – the land God had given to them, the promised land. The temple in Jerusalem, the heart of their religious life, was destroyed. And the dynasty of kings from the house of David came to an end.

But terrible as the exile from home was, it was an extraordinarily creative time. A time for new thinking – a time for re-imagining how to ‘sing the Lord’s song in a strange land’. A time for re-imagining their God. He was (and is) of course, God of the whole world. And he was doing a new thing (Isaiah 43:19).

The Israelites were called by the prophet Jeremiah to pray for the welfare of the city of Babylon (Jeremiah 29:17). They were to settle down there and discover how to live as exiles and learn to sing the Lord’s song in that strange land.

In Babylon, worship changed dramatically, and the loss of the Temple led to the establishment of a new system of local synagogues.

In a sense it was back to first principles. Who are we? What makes us different from other peoples? How do we worship? What sort of God is Yahweh? How can we learn from our mistakes and do things differently? What prophetic voices have we been ignoring?

For Israel the warnings were there, but ignored. The messages were loud and clear through the prophets and many other writings that we can now read in the Old Testament.

And us? Today, we are being deeply shaken. And yet we are receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken.

The Covid pandemic shouts at us. Reminds us of our frailty. Reminds us that we are together on this small planet and we must learn to co-operate to survive. Reminds us that we are becoming more, not less, dependent on each other.

Reminds us that we must protect the vulnerable. Reminds us of the deep injustices that create so much of that vulnerability. Reminds us that we must deal with corporate and individual selfishness and sin. That restraint and sacrifice are unavoidable if we are to turn the ship around.

BUT …

Do you not know? Have you not heard? The LORD is the everlasting God .. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak…. Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength (Isaiah 40: 28 – 31).

We are not called to trust in a way of life which can be shaken, but in our God who is bringing (here and now and for ever) a kingdom which cannot be shaken. And he’s asking us to do it with him.

Every blessing,

Graham

Dear Friends,

Paradigms are, roughly speaking, sets of assumptions about the world around and how we view it. The way we look at things.

Since the 1960s, when the first photographs of earth from space were published, we have been entering a new paradigm. In particular, the beautiful photograph of earth taken from Apollo 17 (the one often called “the blue marble”) has changed how we see our world.

Such photographs of earth are now accessible to the vast majority of people on our beautiful and fragile planet. It is one thing being told about our planet at school, or reading about it in a newspaper. It is another thing entirely to be able to see it. Even hardened Trump supporters (most of whom probably believe the world is flat) have to work hard to deny this as fake news!

I was reminded of this changing paradigm as Janet and I watched an episode of ‘The Crown’ set in 1969 when Neil Armstrong, the first man on the moon, said “That’s one small step for man. One giant leap for mankind.”

It was indeed an extraordinary scientific achievement. One that has changed and continues to change the way we think about our world. It’s like we took a first step out into the rest of the universe. And as we looked back at earth, it was like looking in a mirror for the first time. Seeing ourselves as we are.

So small. And in so many ways this planet has been getting smaller. We can talk to people on the far side of the earth, get news from there just seconds after it happens. We are more than ever one community who all have responsibility to preserve and care for this extraordinary place where we all live.

If the earth was a National Trust treasure, which could be visited and admired, we would be transfixed by the beauty and horrified by the neglect.

Covid-19 has offered us a mirror. The lessons we learn fall into this wider context, in which we are like a spaceship, with limited resources, travelling in the vastness of the universe. We are together and inter-dependent on this small planet.

We have seen that we need international co-operation not competition. The problems of disease like all the big issues we face in our small world can only be addressed successfully together.

As we look in the mirror, we have seen the vulnerable suffer most, although children have been largely spared. We see with shame now much we rely on social carers, but pay them a pittance, and we have seen them suffer and die.

We have seen the value of the NHS more than ever, and also learned the value of so many who keep the basics of life going with little reward and little recognition.

We have seen people across the world suffering just like our own loved ones – cut off from family, desperately ill and dying. We have seen they are no different from us. (Did you know that your DNA is 99.9% the same as any other human being of any ethnic background?)

We have noticed the birds sing and given the environment a breather. We have seen the value of relationships and being with people we love.

We have looked out for one another and ‘seen’ needy folk for the first time. We have found purpose, contentment and happiness when we’ve been able to help others.

There is one world, and one human family, loved and delighted in by God, yet deeply penetrated and driven by forces opposed to God’s kingdom. Our world is plagued by the evils of narrow nationalism, greed and prejudice.

But the mirror doesn’t only show our blemishes, it shows our beauty, character and possibility. It offers us vision. Perhaps we could chant: “Mirror, mirror on the wall. What is the fairest way for all?”

Of course, Jesus is the way. We need to keep looking, asking, praying, growing and living out the vision – so we can become the firstfruits of his kingdom, and people  will be able to taste and see that the Lord is good.

Every blessing.

Graham

Dear Friends,

When Janet and I were in South Sudan, and later in Uganda, we were constantly reminded just how precious water is. To live and work alongside people who walk for miles to fetch water, or have to queue for it, or both, is to get a new perspective.

Many folks had large earthenware pots in their huts, in which they kept their drinking water. In the warmth, the water in the pot would slowly seep through the earthenware and evaporate off the outside of the pot. This evaporation caused a cooling of the water in the pot. No fridge, but cool water. Amazing!

In fact, so many things took longer: preparing and cooking food, shopping, washing clothes. In the heat, what you could do in a day’s work was less. And you always had to have time for people, so less time to get done what you might have planned. No electricity (or dodgy electricity) in the evening meant there wasn’t much time to do anything after dark.

It was, for most people, tough with poor health care, expensive poor quality schooling that many couldn’t afford, low life expectancy, little law enforcement, the threat of soldiers and a generally tough life.

And yet… people were not unhappy. We would still say that we found more joy and laughter in Africa than we have ever found ‘back home’. More community, stronger family ties, greater generosity, acceptance of death as part of life, and faith in God as integral to all of life. And such pleasure in the simple things of life.

Life is no less fulfilled when dominated by the demands of daily living, perhaps more fulfilled. So, what is it that gives us fullness of life? Isaiah writes:

Why spend your money on what Is not bread, and your labour on what does not satisfy? (Isaiah 55:2)

This has all been very much on my mind in the last few months, as we have faced many deprivations, and such changes to our normal way of life. And more so as I contemplate the future.

Emerging from this crisis, we will face a difficult national economic situation. We need to advocate that the least well off are properly provided for. But it won’t only be the task of government. On a personal level, we will need to make sacrifices in the way we use our time, our talents and our money.

Whenever the need is great, and it will be great, we can be tempted to think we can’t do much. Some words from a Christian Aid service come to mind:

Forgive us Lord… when we have looked at the size of the problems and done nothing when we could have done a little.

We have already achieved much. We have learned to smile more, to be kinder to our planet and less busy. We’ve learned about hygiene and how diseases spread. We’ve become more aware of our own mortality. We’re now looking out for our vulnerable neighbours.

We know like never before the importance of being with (and being able to touch or hug) family, friends and neighbours. We’ve been so grateful to live in such a beautiful place in such a caring community. We’ve learned to rest, but also the dangers of having too much time for leisure without some basic patterns of daily life.

We’ve learned a lot about what is really important. We need to pray for the wisdom to build on this foundation, not demolish it.

May God bless you and keep you safe and well.

Graham

Dear Friends

St Paul famously wrote:

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. (Romans 8:22)

I like the analogy because it is an honest yet hopeful one. For me, it recalls Israel’s liberation and birth as a nation through great suffering in Egypt. It recalls Jesus’ death and resurrection, the suffering that is turned into glory as he rises to become the firstborn of the new creation.

Our own life stories are full of groaning and loss leading to new beginnings. When painful change comes, we discover that we are not forsaken, as God again and again pushes us out into a new life, whether or not we want it. Life goes on, and we come to embrace our new situation. Sometimes the new life is extremely difficult but we learn (with God’s help) to live again. And, of course, all this dying and living along the road of life prepares us for our last letting go and rising to new life from our death.

Our nation, like many, is living in the valley of the shadow of death – to use the words of Psalm 23. We are those who can say “I will fear no evil for you are with me.”

Our hope in the midst of difficult times is always that God will bring good out of such times. And in these dark times there are many stories of human courage and God at work. But our hope goes deeper….

God asks us to work with him to re-shape our world, so that the groaning of these days will not be in vain but bring into being a better world, one that looks a bit more like God’s kingdom.  And that begins in prayer. In a focus on God and his will. As Jesus teaches us in the Lord’s Prayer.

And that leads into the re-imagining of our world. How do you re-imagine the world post Covid-19? I’ve tried to distil ten words for me (but couldn’t cut it down from 11!).

• Consider the earth. Honour its children by protecting their inheritance.
• Love yourself, but do not think you are more important than anyone else.
• Get involved. Don’t leave other people to fight for the world you would like to see.
• Honour the work of society’s carers.
• Love your neighbours. Value people above all things.
• Be willing to make sacrifices for the common good.
• Embrace the responsibilities of your wealth.
• Choose co-operation over competition wherever possible.
• Do not covet the stuff you see advertised. Learn contentment and generosity.
• Take the time to seek out truth. Reflect on what you believe and why you believe it.
• Remember that you will die. Leave the world a better place than you found it.

What would yours be? And how do we do it? Back to prayer again. And again. And again.

Much love

Graham

Dear Friends

Many of you will be familiar with the opening lines of L.P. Hartley’s novel ‘The Go-Between’:

The past is a foreign country. They do things differently there.

As I write this, I reflect on what life was like just a week ago. It was a different world. We lived differently there. We lived differently then. Now we’re in a foreign country. And we don’t know how things work. Step by giant step we’ve tumbled into a desert of uncertainty, and we wonder, punch-drunk, if life will ever be the same again.

The coronavirus was out there somewhere. Now it’s arrived, wreaking havoc among us, taking away our liberty and our livelihood, threatening our health, our very lives and especially the lives of our more frail loved ones.

And so it is easy for fear and anxiety to grip us, as we fear what may happen and our own ability to cope with it. We may take refuge in shopping, hoarding, hiding, fleeing to the hills…

While we cannot ignore our very real fears, we can face them courageously with God’s help. Thus Psalm 46 says:

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way,

and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea… (Psalm 46:1-2).

A few days ago, Janet and I drove down to Bath to collect Tim from university. We use a Satnav. A couple of times, as we tried to make sense of the way to go, we lost where we were on the little screen and had to press the button that says “Recentre”. Then the screen reset and we could see exactly where we were and where to turn next. But we couldn’t see very far ahead. Just the next little bit of the journey.

At a time like this we need to “Recentre”. For Christians, to do this is to centre again on God as we know him in Jesus Christ. Our Church vision is ‘A place for everyone with Christ at the centre’. In a very real sense we were already doing this recentring in the journey of Lent. The journey to the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus which we especially celebrate at Easter.

Like on the Satnav screen, we can only see the next little bit of the journey. We don’t know where it is all leading in the days and months to come. We don’t know what is around the next corner. We’re invited to trust the one who does.

The Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Christ, makes real and gives life to the deeply felt knowledge that we are God’s children – destined not for an endless life here, nor for death and destruction, but for death and resurrection into the fulfilment of God’s kingdom, which is already among us.

With our Church building closed, and all gatherings prevented, we are in uncharted waters. But God will navigate us through, and draw us deeper into his love amidst the hardship and loss. He is always moving creatively over the sea of our chaos and darkness, to bring order, light and ground on which we can stand firm.

God is good. He is love. His creation is very good. We’ve seen some beautiful weather today as spring blossoms… We have so much to be thankful for, and we probably most need to remember that when times are tough like now.

So let us open our hearts to love God, and to be loved by God, who is our strength and refuge. Nothing can separate us from God’s love in Christ. Armed with this assurance, we are released into loving our neighbours and especially those most vulnerable, both nearby and far away. We will need perseverance, and God will give it. Take heart, it may be Friday, but Sunday’s coming.

With my love and prayers

Graham

Dear Friends,

I’ve often thought that God’s kingdom is like an orchestra. So many different instruments, so many people using their gifts under the direction of the conductor. Different instruments playing at different times. Sometimes the full orchestra all playing, sometimes a lonely flute holds us rapt with a haunting melody.

All contribute to the symphony according to the composer’s will. All are vital. Each part making little sense on its own but all finding their purpose when they come together in the great symphony of life.

Last week, Janet and I went to London to hear Mark sing in Mahler’s 2^nd Symphony – known as the Resurrection Symphony. We has good intentions of listening to the music beforehand, but never got round to it! So we just knew that it lasted about 90 minutes, and the theme was resurrection.

We got to the Royal Festival Hall in good time and eventually the Philharmonia Orchestra took their places followed by the choir, the Philharmonia Chorus. I love the buzz and the sense of expectation as the orchestra tune up and you wait for the first violinist and the conductor to make their dramatic entries.

The first movement begins and it’s all orchestra – no choir. Then the 2 soloists come on stage and we think the singing will begin. But no. The second and third movements are all orchestra too. We begin to wonder if the choir will sing at all. Not until the fourth movement does a soloist sing. But still no choir!

We have to wait until half way through the fifth and final movement before the choir join in – and by then there’s only 15 minutes left! The choir start to sing almost imperceptibly, though before long the hall will ring with triumphant melody and the orchestra booming in the final climax. The words sung are very powerful:

O Death, you conqueror of all things,

Now you are conquered.

I shall mount to the light which no sight has penetrated.

I shall die, so as to live!

The final movement, and the choir singing, was a long time coming but well worth waiting for!! What struck me, even during the waiting, was how appropriate that was. Waiting for resurrection. In this symphony, Mahler engages with life in all its pain and suffering and with death in particular. And, finally, resurrection.

We are at the beginning of Lent. During the journey of Lent, we are preparing to face, and ultimately celebrate, death and resurrection. On the journey, we are invited to face, with God’s help, the darkness in ourselves, and the darkness in the world. And there is so much waiting! But, like Janet and I waiting for the choir to sing, it is an expectant waiting. The darkness will be defeated. Jesus will die, but in order to conquer death. Jesus will die in order that we may live.

Meanwhile, may we all find assurance that we have a place in the orchestra, and be ready to use our gifts under the direction of the conductor.

With much love,

Graham