Author: stmelangell_l5nfea

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Reflection for Candlemas

Reflection for Candlemas

“Lord, as you have promised, you now dismiss your servant in peace. For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, a light for revelation……” Simeon, in Luke 2:22-40, NIV.

“So we begin our journey of hope, light and new beginnings….” Paul Elliott, Poet.
 
Today marks the Presentation of Christ, transferred from 2nd February, which is also known as Candlemas. When Simeon, the devout old man in the Temple, sees the baby Jesus, he takes him in his arms and declares him to be the light for revelation to the Gentiles and the glory of Israel. Over time, it became the custom in churches to light a central candle to represent this and to bless all the candles there so that those who saw that outer light would be reminded of the inner vision. The snowdrops which appear around this time are often called nature’s candles as the darkness of winter gradually gives way to the light of spring and my Welsh father always picked a snowdrop at Candlemas to bring into the house as a sign of this. He also used to quote:
If Candlemas day be fair and bright, winter will have a second flight.
If Candlemas day be dull with rain, winter will not come again. 
We’ll see on Tuesday what happens and whether the saying about the weather will be right this year!
The presentation of Jesus in the Temple has great significance, not least because of the encounter between the generations. The baby and his parents, one younger and one older, meet two aged people, Simeon and Anna, as they come to honour the Law and rituals of their faith. In the encounter, both help each other understand more about themselves. Faithful Simeon, who knows that he won’t die until he had seen the Christ, realises that Jesus is what he has been waiting for and that his end is near. As he prays words that are still said at Evening Prayer, the Nunc Dimittis, he blesses Mary and Joseph but also tells Mary that her baby will cause the falling and rising of many and that a sword will pierce her own soul, too. What a thing to say to a new mum! 
Although her words aren’t recorded, Anna then also gives thanks to God and speaks about the child’s future. Luke tells us that she never leaves the temple, fasting, praying and worshipping night and day. Both Simeon and Anna are faithful, active people who see with the eyes of the heart and recognise God’s purposes, which may enable the new parents to understand more than perhaps they do. Luke says earlier in his Gospel that, after the events of Jesus’ birth, Mary “treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” Luke 2:19, NIV. Perhaps Simeon and Anna’s words now did not unduly surprise her but gave Mary more food for thought as she and Joseph then began their journey of light and new beginnings to Nazareth where Jesus grows up. 
Today, because of the pandemic, older people have been asked to stay at home or self isolate and are often seen as vulnerable or frail. That may be sometimes the case – though by no means always! The wisdom, experience and humour of that generation has been inspirational to many, helping others to realise that this pandemic, too, will pass. Equally, the strength and willingness of some younger people has enabled shopping to arrive or journeys be made to have the vaccine, whilst grandchildren may bring hope for the future whatever the present troubles. 
Each generation needs the others and, as we see this happening in the lives of Simeon and Anna as well as Joseph and Mary, may prayer enable us to ask for God’s help in our generation and to draw strength from their example – and that of the seemingly delicate but actually robust snowdrop!
With my prayers, Christine

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Sunday reflection

Today’s reflection is from the Grandchamp Community, a monastic community of about 50 sisters who come from different churches, countries and cultures. Evolving in the early 1930s and based initially in Switzerland, the sisters welcomed German and Dutch women into the community shortly after the Second World War, committing themselves to working for reconciliation as well as unity: “Ecumenical prayer, prayer for unity, was there at the heart of the life of our community from the start, and that is clearly the work of the Holy Spirit.” (Sister Minke). 
In adopting the Rule of the ecumenical Taizé Community in 1952, the sisters developed this outreach and have devised this year’s resources for the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity. So, rather than write a separate reflection, theirs for Day 7 follows as a means of establishing common ground. Perhaps you could light a candle where you are to add to those in the photo as a sign of the unity and hope that can be found despite the divisions that still remain in the body of Christ and the world we all share. 
With my prayers,
Christine, Shrine Guardian
Prayer for Christian Unity.
Growing in unity

“I am the vine, you are the branches” (Jn 15:5a)
1 Cor 1:10-13; 3:21-23 Is Christ divided?
Jn 17:20-23 As you and I are one

Meditation
On the eve of his death, Jesus prayed for the unity of those the Father gave him: “that they may all be one … so that the world may believe”. Joined to him, as a branch is to the vine, we share the same sap that circulates among us and vitalizes us.

Each tradition seeks to lead us to the heart of our faith: communion with God, through Christ, in the Spirit. The more we live this communion, the more we are connected to other Christians and to all of humanity. Paul warns us against an attitude that had already threatened the unity of the first Christians: absolutizing one’s own tradition to the detriment of the unity of the body of Christ. Differences then become divisive instead of mutually enriching. Paul had a very broad vision: “All are yours, and you are of Christ, and Christ is of God” (1 Cor 3:22-23).

Christ’s will commits us to a path of unity and reconciliation. It also commits us to unite our prayer to his: “that they may all be one. . .so that the world may believe” (Jn 17:21).

“Never resign yourself to the scandal of the separation of Christians who so readily profess love for their neighbour, and yet remain divided. Make the unity of the body of Christ your passionate concern.” The Rule of Taizé.

Prayer
Holy Spirit, vivifying fire and gentle breath, come and abide in us. Renew in us the passion for unity so that we may live in awareness of the bond that unites us in you. May all who have put on Christ at their Baptism unite and bear witness together to the hope that sustains them. Amen.

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Sunday reflection

Reflection for the Second Sunday of Epiphany
Finding Philip, Jesus said to him, “Follow me.”……. Philip found Nathanael and told him, “We have found the one……. Come and see.” From today’s Gospel, John 1:43-51, NIV.
“I went there by accident when a friend suggested…..an outing to this extraordinary place…. I found myself walking gently on holy ground in my own land.” Martin Palmer, speaking of his visit to St Melangell’s.
St Melangell, her church and the valley were part of a Radio 4 programme on January 10th called “Sunday Worship” and it’s available on BBC sounds if anyone who missed it would like to hear it. Presented by Martin Palmer, he said that a friend had influenced his decision to come to this valley and that he found, unexpectedly, holy ground here. His reminiscence reminded me of a much earlier incident when, in today’s Gospel, Philip invites Nathanael to come and see Jesus of Nazareth – and Nathanael does, although he’s initially cynical. “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?” he asks, just as Martin Palmer also thought this to be, “a small, lovely but also in many ways ordinary valley”. Both, however, found more than they had anticipated being revealed to them and unexpectedly encountered holiness when they allowed themselves to be influenced by invitations from those around them, Nathanael in having a powerful conversation with Jesus and Martin in finding holy ground in this valley.
People we know can exercise a huge influence on us, in all sorts of ways, just as we can affect them too. Looking back in life, it may be that there are various times when we now realise that something significant was revealed – or not – because we followed, or perhaps refused, the call: “Come and see.” 
As the challenges of the pandemic continue, many people are being asked to come and see NHS personnel to have their vaccination – and some amazing things are happening when they do. Who would ever have thought that Salisbury cathedral, amongst others, would be the setting for a mass vaccination centre, with organ music playing as people followed others and waited their turn? Yet, it happened and those present found themselves, literally, on holy ground and being given hope for the future in a beautiful place where present needs are being served by those whose past vision and service created the reality of the hallowed building itself. 
Many challenges still lie ahead and, from what’s happened recently in America, it’s clear that hallowed places can be the focus of many differing emotions and perceptions and that many followers often see things very differently. Whatever we’re looking at, and wherever we are, we all have our part to play as we participate in the battle against Covid-19 and daily decide whether or not to respond to Jesus’ call to “Follow me”. Prayer is a good way of listening for his voice and, as a new Presidency begins this week, America and her peoples are an important focus for prayer and the call of the Prince of Peace. 
Perhaps one of the blessings of the ongoing situation is that, confined to our homes and local areas as many are, we may have the time and opportunity to be able to see more clearly than usual the heritage, beauty and needs that, amongst the ordinary things of life, are right here on our doorstep and, literally, often overlooked. When, despite it all, we find the will to come and see may we, like Nathanael, Martin and countless others, find that we, too, are unexpectedly on holy ground, finding “heaven in ordinary….the soul’s blood….something understood.” George Herbert: Prayer (1)
With my prayers,
Christine
Shrine Guardian.
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Llythyr Bugeiliol Ionawr 2021 January Pastoral Letter

FOLLOW ME

To the members of the Family of St Asaph

A Pastoral Letter for the New Year, January 2021

We’re familiar, I suspect, with the story of the twelve disciples, who are an integral part of the story of Jesus in the Gospels. As sure as Snow White belongs with the Seven Dwarfs, so Jesus belongs with the twelve, if that isn’t too trivialising a thing to say. What is so fascinating in the Gospels is what a motley band the disciples are. They make a mess of things, they misunderstand, they question, they fail to believe and to follow. Over the course of the ministry of Jesus, however, they are forged into apostles, and Jesus is not afraid at his ascension to put the whole business of the Gospel of Salvation and the Church into their hands.

I was challenged before Christmas when someone said to me that they didn’t think that Christians today thought of themselves as disciples, and that people didn’t understand what a disciple was. It was a name which belonged in the Bible, but was hardly a contemporary description of faith, they said.

For me, the fundamental question of faith is whether I am a disciple. Faith is not an abstract exercise of the mind, it is how it affects my daily life. A disciple is one who learns: it is clearer in the Welsh, where disciple and pupil are the same word: disgybl. To be a Christian is to lay one’s life on the line, and to follow Jesus. We see the “crisis” of discipleship when Jesus calls the twelve – peremptorily – from their fishing or their tax collection or their political activism. He just turns up, it appears, and issues the invitation (we might be better saying “command”.) And they go with him, they leave their work, they leave their families, they set out on a journey from which, to tell the truth, they never return, and yet they come truly home. The gospels even tell us about one occasion when someone said “no”: a rich young aristocrat, who just couldn’t tear himself away from the privileges of his wealth (Mark. 10.17-27).

Jesus, I’m afraid, doesn’t call us to stay where we are, in the sense of saying our creeds with meaning, but otherwise going about our lives. He calls us to set out on a journey, away from the familiar, to become larger than we are, greater in spirit, holier in life, loving in service. Nor does he make it easy, “If anyone does want to come after me,” he says in Luke 9.23, “they must deny themselves, take up their cross daily, and so follow me.”

Are we frightened by this? Was it enough to be baptised or confirmed in the past, so that we need not heed the call that comes today or tomorrow, to go somewhere we don’t expect and to learn something new about the real meaning of life? This is what it is to be a Christian: to learn what God has in store for us and to follow it, to be a disciple. The disciples didn’t find following Jesus easy, and indeed, the Gospel according to John tells us that on one occasion Jesus’ teaching was so demanding that a lot of people gave up, and left. (John chapter 6, particularly v.66 ff) Jesus has to turn to the twelve, and say: “Are you lot off as well?” It is good old Simon Peter who replies on this occasion: “Where else could we go?”, he says, “You are the one who has the words which give eternal life.”

And that’s the promise – to follow Jesus, to go on the unexpected journey, is to discover the riches of a life beyond compare, beyond blessing. “He who would true valour see, let him come hither,” wrote John Bunyan in the seventeenth century. “One here will constant be, come wind, come weather. There’s no discouragement shall make him once relent his first avowed intent: to be a pilgrim.” Pilgrim follower, disciple. Are you a disciple? I can think of no better vocation, no more exciting journey in 2021 than to get up, shake off the lethargy or the disgruntlement, and to go through the door of life, and look to Jesus, who stretches his hand towards us, and for us to say to him: “Here I am, and where you lead, I will follow.”

Bishop Gregory

 

DILYN FI

At aelodau Teulu Asaph

Llythyr Bugeiliol ar gyfer y Flwyddyn Newydd, Ionawr 2021

Rwy’n siŵr ein bod yn gyfarwydd gyda hanes y deuddeg disgybl, sy’n rhan annatod o hanes Iesu yn yr Efengylau. Cyn sicred â bod Eira Wen yn perthyn i’r Saith Corrach, mae Iesu hefyd yn perthyn i’r deuddeg, os nad yw hynny’n ddywediad braidd yn ddifrïol. Yr hyn sydd mor gyfareddol yn yr Efengylau yw criw mor frith yw’r disgyblion. Maen nhw’n gwneud llanastr o bethau, yn camddeall, maen nhw’n amau, maen nhw’n methu credu na dilyn. Ond, dros gyfnod gweinidogaeth Iesu, maen nhw’n cael eu ffurfio’n apostolion ac nid yw Iesu’n ofni, adeg ei ddyrchafael, gosod yr holl fusnes o Efengyl Iachawdwriaeth a’r Eglwys yn eu dwylo. Cefais fy herio cyn y Nadolig pan ddywedodd rhywun wrthyf nad oedd yn meddwl fod Cristnogion heddiw yn ystyried eu hunain yn ddisgyblion ac nad oedd pobl yn deall beth oedd disgybl. Mae’n enw sy’n perthyn i’r Beibl, ond digon o waith ei fod yn ddisgrifiad cyfoes o ffydd, meddai. I mi, cwestiwn sylfaenol o ffydd yw a ydw i’n ddisgybl. Nid ymarfer damcaniaethol o’r meddwl yw ffydd, mae sut y mae’n effeithio ar fy mywyd pob dydd. Mae disgybl yn un sy’n dysgu: mae’r Gymraeg yn gliriach, mae’r un gair ‘disgybl’ yn golygu’r ddau air Saesneg ‘disciple’ a ‘pupil’. Bod yn Gristion yw cymryd eich bywyd yn eich dwylo a dilyn Iesu. Roedd ‘argyfwng’ disgyblaeth i’w weld pan alwodd Iesu’r deuddeg – yn ddirybudd – o’u gwaith yn pysgota neu’n casglu trethu neu’n gwleidydda. Mae’n ymddangos ac yn gwahodd (neu, efallai, yn “gorchymyn”.) Ac maen nhw’n ei ganlyn, maen nhw’n gadael eu gwaith, yn gadael eu teuluoedd ac yn cychwyn ar daith pen draw iddi, ac eto, maen nhw, mewn gwirionedd, roedden nhw wedi cyrraedd gartref. Mae’r efengylau hyd yn oed yn sôn wrthym am un achlysur pan ddywedodd rhywun “na”: uchelwr ifanc, cyfoethog, nad oedd yn gallu diosg breintiau ei gyfoeth (Marc: 10.17-27). Ond, mae arna i ofn, nid ein galw i aros yn ein hunfan y mae Iesu, nid i ddweud ein credoau dan deimlad ac, fel arall, i fyw ein bywydau yn ôl ein harfer. Mae’n ein galw i gychwyn ar daith, i ffwrdd o’r cyfarwydd, i ddod yn fwy nag yr ydym ni, i dyfu yn yr ysbryd, yn fwy sanctaidd mewn bywyd, yn gariadus mewn gwasanaeth. Nid yw ychwaith yn ei gwneud hyn yn hawdd i ni, “Os myn neb ddod ar fy ôl i,” meddai yn Luc 9:23, “rhaid iddo ymwadu ag ef ei hun a chodi ei groes bob dydd a’m canlyn i.” A yw hyn yn codi ofn arnom ni? A oedd derbyn bedydd neu fedydd esgob yn y gorffennol yn ddigon fel na fyddai raid i ni dalu sylw i’r alwad sy’n dod heddiw neu yfory, i fynd i rywle anghyfarwydd ac i ddysgu rhywbeth newydd am ystyr bywyd mewn gwirionedd? Dyma beth yw bod yn Gristion: dysgu beth sydd gan Dduw ar ein cyfer ni a’i ddilyn, bod yn ddisgybl. Doedd hi ddim yn hawdd i’r disgyblion ddilyn Iesu, yn wir, mae’n dweud yn un man yn yr Efengyl yn ôl Ioan fod dysgeidiaeth Iesu’n gofyn cymaint nes bod llawer o bobl yn rhoi’r gorau iddi ac yn gadael. (Ioan pennod 6, yn benodol a.66 ff) Mae Iesu’n gorfod troi at y deuddeg a dweud: “Ydych chi i gyd yn gadael hefyd?” Yr hen Seimon Pedr sy’n ymateb y tro yma: “Ble arall allen ni fynd?” meddai, ‘Ti wy’r un gyda’r geiriau sy’n rhoi bywyd tragwyddol.” A dyna’r addewid – dilyn Iesu, mynd ar y daith annisgwyl, darganfod cyfoeth bywyd nad oes ei debyg, y tu hwnt i fendith. Fel y dywedodd John Bunyan yn yr ail ganrif ar bymtheg “A fynno ddewrder gwir, o deued yma. Mae un o ddeil ei dir ar law a hindda. Ni all temtasiwn gref ei ddigalonni ef i ado llwybrau’r nef, y gwir bererin.” Pererin dilynwr, disgybl. Ydych chi’n ddisgybl? Alla i ddim meddwl am well galwedigaeth, nac am daith fwy cyffrous yn 2021, na chodi, diosg y syrthni neu’r anfodlonrwydd a mynd trwy ddrws bywyd, edrych at Iesu, sy’n ymestyn ei law, a dweud wrtho: “Dyma fi, a ble bynnag y byddi di’n arwain, byddaf i’n dilyn.”

Esgob Gregory

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Sunday reflection

Reflection for the Baptism of Christ
“At that time, Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee and was baptised by John in the Jordan.” From Mark 1:4-11, NIV.

 “Emergency patients could be turned away from hospitals, causing avoidable deaths.”Prof. Chris Whitty. 
“An injection of optimism……. We started jabbing on Thursday ….this gives them a bit of hope.” Dr Paul Evans.
Having marked at Epiphany the revelation that the Christchild comes for all people, today’s Gospel focuses on the adult Jesus being baptised and the revelation in a voice from heaven that this is God’s son, “whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” Mark 1:11.
Mark’s Gospel gives no information about Jesus’ birth or childhood, unlike Matthew‘s and Luke’s, although there are some clues in Mark’s opening chapter when he writes that Jesus came from Nazareth in Galilee. In the time of Jesus, Galilee was a remote, Northern part of the Holy Land and the place where he grew up was scorned by Nathanael who scoffed, “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there?”John 1:46.  Mark is telling us that it can, as Jesus spent his childhood there and spent much of his ministry in small towns and rural locations although he travelled to Jerusalem for religious festivals. 
 
Mark begins with the good news that, “This is the gospel about Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” After a prophecy from Isaiah, he describes John, the cousin of Jesus who calls people to repent and change their ways. He is much more the image of what a prophet was then expected to be: John wears animal skins, eats locusts and wild honey and lives in the desert. The people are flocking to him and, by contrast, Jesus emerges from a domestic setting, eating ordinary food and experiencing family life. Yet he goes immediately to his cousin for baptism, John having pointed to the one coming after him who will baptise with the Holy Spirit and not just water. That happens as Jesus comes out of the Jordan and the spirit in the form of a dove descends upon him, a reminder of what happened when the Ark safely navigated the floods of chaos. 
As we continue to face the chaotic situation of the ongoing pandemic, a flood of people is now streaming to the NHS – but Professor Whitty is warning that the NHS may find itself overwhelmed by the tide of human need. These are troubling times for us all and now the wait for the vaccine to be administered seems to be taking longer than had been anticipated. Where can the good news be and what is being revealed to us today as the pandemic continues to force us to face what some have likened to a baptism of fire, a fiery trial that is testing individuals, communities, institutions and nations to their limit currently?
The phrase ‘baptism of fire’ derives from John the Baptist whose prophetic words are recorded by St Matthew as, “He will baptise you with the Holy Spirit and with fire.” Matt.3:11. It’s come to mean that great suffering and fiery ordeals may result in cleansing and transformation and it’s a phrase that is hard to hear, given how much suffering, death and chaos has resulted from Covid-19. But, with the need for frequent hand washing, the avoidance of contact and the endurance of prolonged isolation and suffering, it’s clear that we cannot continue as we were. A change of ways is essential and our lives, workplaces and expectations are being transformed by what’s happening with the heated exchanges in the media underlining this. 
Part of the good news currently circulating is that drugs associated with rheumatoid arthritis are proving to be helpful in addition to the steroid Dexamethasone in battling Covid-19. There’s much for which to be thankful amidst the terrible suffering and, amongst continuing concerns about the vaccine and the way ahead, the language of what’s happening is significant. Some people term the vaccine as a jab or a shot, indicating that it’s likely to be painful, whereas the possibilities it may open up have lead others to call it an injection of hope. Who knows what will happen in the short or long term when it becomes widely available or as vaccine resistance becomes a factor with the virus mutating? 
Nevertheless, the baptism of Jesus, in underlining the importance of family links, change of lifestyle and human need, reveals the divine intervention that can be at hand too. When prayer and hope are also injected into circulation, they too can become part of the transformation as we continue to cling today to the hope that science, medicine and the vaccine will get us through this fiery ordeal. We all have a part to play in the days ahead that will affect us, our families and those around us and, as the season of Epiphany continues, that is a significant revelation. It will require a hopeful response from each of us immersed in this chaotic struggle, whether or not we profess a religious faith, if we are to emerge from this particular baptism of fire. 
With my prayers, Christine.
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Epiphany reflection

”They offered him gifts….and left for their own country by another road.” 
From Matthew 2:1-12.

“When are we going to be out of this? It’s not going to be an event, it’ll be a process.”
Prof. Neil Ferguson, Epidemiologist, speaking of the process of national vaccination.

Today is Epiphany, the time of the visit of the Magi to the Christchild and the revelation that the child is born for all people, Gentiles as well as Jews. Matthew’s Gospel simply refers to wise men from the East and, because three gifts are given, it’s been assumed that there were three of them although they would have had servants too. Probably from the Zoroastrian faith, men of great learning and stargazers who worshipped Mazda the god of light, they later became the three Kings of the carol, given the names Caspar, Melchior and Balthazar. Traditionally, one is older, one younger and one dark skinned and they are often depicted on camels although wealthy travellers in the time of Christ would probably use horses which were speedier and more comfortable.
Matthew states that they saw the rising of a star, a significant astronomical event, and travelled to Jerusalem to ask the whereabouts of the child born king of the Jews. In doing so, they alerted insecure Herod to what had happened which, when they returned by another way rather than report back to him, lead to the massacre of the innocents. But, in offering Jesus precious gifts from their treasure chests, the child was given gold for the King of Kings, frankincense used in worship and myrrh to anoint dead bodies, indicating the suffering and death that lies ahead. The gifts are symbolic as these men of great wealth and influence who had travelled such a long way are able to recognise that the child is the King they are seeking. They humble themselves before him whereas King Herod asserts his authority in so terrible a way that many other children are killed. By going home by a different way, the magi take another route as their lives and understanding are changed by what they had witnessed and who they had encountered. That is so for us, too, when we find Jesus and worship him, being changed by the encounter with Love incarnate.
The wise men were attentive to God’s purposes as they gazed at the heavens and discerned the star’s rising – we too need to attend to what God is showing us and respond, as did they. In setting out on their journey they were willing to take action without knowing where they were going, which must have been costly as TS Eliot describes in his poem ‘Journey of the Magi’:
“A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey.
The ways deep and the weather sharp
The very dead of winter.” 

Like the magi, we find ourselves on a difficult journey in the very dead of winter, as our family and travel plans have unexpectedly changed and none of us can be sure what lies ahead or how long it will all take. Waiting for the vaccine is a hard process and, sometimes, the going is so hard for us that it’s tempting to give up and stop travelling spiritually or to be taken in by those with other agendas. The challenges have been so great that many of us have been forced to stop and question where we’re going in life or what we seek and need on life’s way. Our lives now are very different, changed as we are by the mutating virus and what the process of national vaccination is demanding of us. But still the example of the magi can inspire us: they found what they were seeking through perseverance and showed their love through worship and the offering of precious gifts, being willing also to change their future because of their encounter with the Christchild. 

As our futures have also suddenly changed, what is being revealed to us this Epiphany? Where can we find God’s love and what precious gifts can we give the Christchild in the time, treasures and talent we can offer him and those around us? Giving of ourselves can be costly and we’re not always willing to persevere at those times when the journey may be too deep or sharp. But, as Eliot also reminds us, “….were we led all that way for Birth or Death?” 

As we honour the example of those shadowy figures worshipping the Christchild and offering gifts, where do we go from here and who are the wise ones whose voices and advice we should heed today as they guide us step by step on this strange journey and the process we’re all having to undertake?

With my prayers, Christine

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Sunday reflection

Reflection for the Second Sunday after Christmas.

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us…full of grace and truth.” 

From John 1:10-18, NIV.
“Wreck the halls with boughs of baggage, Fa la la la la, la la la la.” 
Part of the parody of the Carol ‘Deck the halls with boughs of holly’.
 
At the turn of the year, it’s traditionally been common to make a resolution to enable a fresh and hopeful start to the unknown that lies ahead. This year, with the uncertainty facing us all due to the pandemic, many people have said that they’re not going to bother as the unpredictable situation has changed so much in their lives that the Christmas and New Year festivities have not had the same meaning and the way ahead is too fearful.
However, some families are isolated from each other and others have to spend so much time together that conflict, abusive relationships and increasing mental health issues are resulting. It can be tempting to try to reinforce our lives with possessions and to cling on to what seems safe and familiar to reassure ourselves in the face of so uncertain a future. In time, the resulting boughs of baggage and mounds of clutter may prove to be destructive if we don’t deal with them because it’s sometimes tempting to hide behind them when faced with uncertainty. The many seasonal messages, financial statements and reviews of the past year remind us that, just as they address what happened during it and the consequences for the future, so it’s important also to take stock of where we are spiritually. 
The following Covenant prayer from the Methodist tradition may enable us to do this. It’s a very hard prayer to pray as we face up to the stark uncertainty ahead and ask ourselves what needs to be kept and what should be removed in our spiritual lives while the Christmas decorations are taken down and the New Year unfolds. Today’s Gospel reminds us that God came to the world at a time of great uncertainty and the Christmas story is so familiar that sometimes we forget how astounding it must have been for Mary and Joseph to cope with the astonishing things that were happening and then have to flee from all that was familiar and go to live in Egypt for two years. Jesus’ human family has much to teach us, both then and now.
Today’s Gospel reminds us that God came to the world and yet the world did not recognise him, even though Jesus was ‘full of grace and truth’. If we find the courage to face its challenges and ask ourselves some searching questions about the changing circumstances of our lives, then our eyes may be open to where grace and truth is still to be found today – often, in circumstances even more unlikely than a cattle shed!
With my prayers, Christine.
The Methodist Covenant Prayer.
I am no longer my own but yours.

Put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will;
put me to doing, put me to suffering;
let me be employed for you, or laid aside for you,
exalted for you, or brought low for you;
let me be full, let me be empty,
let me have all things, let me have nothing:
I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things
to your pleasure and disposal.
And now, glorious and blessèd God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit,
you are mine and I am yours.
And the covenant now made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.

© 1999 Trustees for Methodist Church Purposes. Used with permission.

 
With my prayers,
Christine
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New Year, new hope?

New Year, new hope?

2020 has been been so hard and no-one knows quite what lies ahead in 2021 as the coming of the vaccines and signing into law of the Brexit trade agreement bring light at the end of the tunnel amidst the ongoing challenges. Where does the path lead now? Who knows – but “the true light that gives light” (John 1:9, NIV) can be our guide if we seek it. As 2021 unfolds, despite the weariness, sadness and reassessment of what has been, perhaps one of the greatest challenges for each of us is to want to renew our hope and keep looking for where the Light is to be found. For, despite the isolation and restrictions upon us, we still have life where others have not, and to live life hopefully is to honour that if we choose to.
There can’t be the usual celebrations as the New Year begins but perhaps the words of the old traditional Scottish song The parting glass may find an echo in our hearts as 2021 dawns more quietly and perhaps more significantly amongst us:
 “But since it has so ordered been
  By a time to rise and a time to fall
  Come fill to me the parting glass 
  Good night and joy be with you all.”

God bless us all at the turning of the year – in the many mixed emotions being felt by so many, amidst the darkness and uncertainty may there be moments of joy as well as hope as the New Year dawns and the Light guides wherever the way may lead us. 

With my prayers, Christine. 

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Sunday reflection

Reflection for John – Apostle and Evangelist

Jesus did many other things as well. If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.  From John 21: 19b-25, NIV.
Millions to receive Oxford jab from Jan 4 – Sunday Telegraph.
It may seem strange that, just two days after Christmas, today’s reading features the last verses of St John’s Gospel to do with the end of Jesus’s earthly ministry at a time when his birth is still being celebrated. That’s because the Church honours today the person whose Gospel has inspired so many, whether or not John the Apostle and John the Evangelist are one and the same. John was one of the sons of Zebedee who followed Jesus and was present at the Transfiguration, the last supper, the agony in Gethsemane and stood at the foot of the cross with Mary. Called the beloved disciple, he was a witness to the resurrection and was later exiled to Patmos, probably because of his writing – particularly in Revelation where mention of the beast was thought by many to be referring to the Roman Emperor. From the earliest days, the Roman Empire tried to suppress Christianity and, at a time when so many are still facing persecution and exile, John’s exile may hearten those experiencing it today. 
John’s Gospel refers to the many other things Jesus did that are not actually written down and which are now unknown. As the mammoth task begins to carry out Covid vaccinations for so many millions of people and implement the Brexit trade agreement with Europe, amidst the publicity and known documentation there are many other things which have also been done to facilitate this, of which we may also not be aware. It’s not only the scientists and politicians but also the suppliers providing not just the vaccine but the personnel, needles, phials, cotton wool, plasters, cartons, PPE, fridges, transport, storage……… so many requisites and lives that are entwined and involved, knowingly or unknowingly. Many unseen personnel have been involved in the Brexit negotiations too and the costly complexity was quickly shown in the queues that recently speedily built up near Dover, with so many drivers being stranded and kept away from their own families whilst bringing or taking to others the goods and items that it can be so easy to take for granted. 
There must have been unseen people and shadowy figures helping or hindering Mary and Joseph too at the birth of Jesus in Bethlehem. Did the unknown innkeeper supply food as well as accommodation? Was there a midwife who assisted at the birth? Did the kinsfolk who must also have been in their home town help or stay away through social embarrassment – why could no room be found even for a relative about to give birth? Who helped the family as they fled to exile in Egypt when Herod had so many innocent children massacred and how did the parents and soldiers cope afterwards when forced to live with such terrible memories? 
If every one of these things was written down, writes John, there would not be enough room in all the world and yet, would it make any difference to our response today as massacres still continue, innocents are killed, vaccines are developed and help is both needed and supplied by the unknown people whose actions affect our lives with or without us being aware of it? Each of us will also affect countless lives by what we say, do or buy and, as the Brexit trade agreement with 1,200 pages is published so late in the process, spare a thought for those who, unseen by so many, had to redraft it and then put it online or suddenly supply the paper and folders, print and circulate it. Perhaps one of the things to be thankful for as we continue to seek meaning in this complex world of ours is that we don’t all have to read it!
With my prayers,
Christine
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Christmas Reflection

Reflection for Christmas Day
“Do not be afraid; I bring you good news” – from St Luke 2:1-14.
 
Cymru, sicrhewch eich bod yn cael eich cyfrif

Wales, make sure you are counted – envelope of the 2021 census documentation.

It was one of those lovely coincidences that the envelope bearing the above words should arrive here on Christmas Eve, a reminder of the census two thousand years ago that was the reason for Joseph and Mary’s journey from Nazareth to Bethlehem to be counted. Coinciding also with the Great Conjunction of Saturn and Jupiter, the planetary event which some have likened to the Star of Bethlehem, there are resonances of the Gospel accounts in the events of today as Christmas is celebrated in the challenging circumstances facing us all. 
Then, there was no room to be found in Bethlehem, but many stranded lorry drivers recently found there was no room for them in Dover either and that they wouldn’t get home for Christmas. Threats of food and other shortages seem to have faded now that a trade agreement has been reached with Europe but, with many families’ plans suddenly disrupted, the daily drip of doom and complaint seems to have rocketed recently. Yet, into this uncertain situation, still the angelic voice which spoke to the terrified shepherds speaks to us today as the birth of Jesus is celebrated once more. Then, as now, the good news is proclaimed that a Saviour has been born in Bethlehem – and it was announced to those who were able to hear the message through being out on the hillsides looking after the sheep rather than mingling with others. 
This year, the pandemic means that many are alone or forced to have a quieter Christmas than usual and that some families are mourning the loss of loved ones or anxious about the future. However, it may be that the sudden curtailing of the usual festivities might make us all reconsider what is important in our lives and what we so often take for granted. Into our confusion, fear and isolation comes the voice of hope once more telling us that God is with us, Emmanuel, and that there is good news amidst all the woes. Where might that good news be for each one of us – what makes you rejoice this Christmas? 
We have a choice, like those shepherds, who could have refused the invitation to see for themselves – amongst the unexpected developments we are all facing, this quieter Christmas, we may be confronted with the silence that forces us to face up to what we may usually be able to drown out with noise and socialising. If we choose to, we may find the courage not to be afraid but to look for where the good news and hope might be in the quieter joys facing us. That may enable us not only to hear the song of the angels in our hearts but also to join in the ancient hymn of praise:
“Glory to God in the highest and on earth, peace.”
With my prayers,
Christine