Author: stmelangell_l5nfea

Today’s reflection is the sermon preached at the service here by John Woolley, a local Methodist lay preacher. Thanks to him for agreeing to its circulation.

Mothering Sunday Readings: 1 Samuel 1: 20-28 Luke 2:33-35 John 19:25=27 

Today is Mothering Sunday, and our scripture readings today have focused our attention on two mothers, living many centuries apart in time and in very different circumstances but linked by a common experience. Both of them in their different ways gave up their firstborn sons to the lifetime service of the Lord. 

Hannah had been married for many years but was childless. Her most earnest wish was that she should bear a child and she made a solemn vow to the Lord that if he would grant her the blessing of a child of her own then she would see that the child would be dedicated to the service of the Lord for the whole of his life. And so it came to be – in the fullness of time she gave birth to a son, and she named him Samuel, and this son became one of the first and greatest prophets of God’s people. 

Mary’s story was rather different. Even before she became pregnant she had been visited by an angel, who told her that she had found favour with God and that she had been chosen to become the mother of the long promised Messiah. We know the stories about his birth in Bethlehem. Today we read the account of his presentation in the temple as a tiny baby, just eight days old. We read too John’s account of how Mary was there with him at the end – right up to that terrible end when most of the disciples had fled and only John and those few faithful women remained to witness and share Jesus’ suffering. 

Possibly only someone who is a mother herself could even begin to imagine the agony of those last few hours when Jesus hung on the cross – what thoughts must have gone through her mind as she witnessed the humiliation and suffering of her beloved boy. Helplessness – unable to do anything except stand at the foot of the cross; pain, for all that he was enduring; and probably some guilt too, for there is often guilt, however illogical it may seem, in any situation like this. What was happening was something she had often dreaded, something that she had tried so hard to protect him from. In the early days of his ministry, when she had come to him to try and persuade him to return home to Nazareth. In spite of all the wonderful things he was doing and teaching, she could hear too the growing voices of opposition and she had feared for him. Why should some people hate and fear him so, when all he was doing was speaking the truth and doing good? 

And yet the secret dread she held in her heart had been there long before – it went right back to when Jesus was just a tiny baby, when she and Joseph had taken Jesus to the temple in Jerusalem for his circumcision ceremony. There had been an oldman there, Symeon, who had taken Jesus in his arms and had made a strange, wonderful, yet terrifying prophesy concerning him. She could still remember the exact words he had spoken to her. ‘This child is destined to cause the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that is spoken against.. And a sword will pierce your own soul too’. Truly those were prophetic words – what is it that this old sage foresaw as he held the infant messiah in his arms. 

He foresaw that many in Israel would rise because of Jesus – surely that was only to be expected. But he saw too that many would fall because of him. How could this be? For centuries the Jews had looked forward with eager anticipation to the coming of the Messiah, and in these times this was almost the only hope many of them had for the future of the nation. For Israel was an occupied country and the proud Jews were little more than downtrodden underlings. The Jewish nationalists and the devout Jews were looking for a great Messiah who would overthrow the yoke of the Romans and restore the nation. Surely the coming of Messiah could be nothing other than a time of great rejoicing. So why did so many fall because of him? Why was his coming such a crisis? We already begin to see some of the difficult and serious questions that the coming of Jesus raised; some of the reasons that ultimately led to him being nailed to the cross. 

Before Christ came, men dreamed. The prophets of old had looked forward to the coming of a great Messiah, a saviour of the nation. They often saw him as a great priest/king of David’s calibre. These old ideas of the coming Messiah, themselves sometimes a little muddled and confused, were warped and twisted by the situation of the times. It was perhaps inevitable that at this time of occupation by a foreign power that the Jews would look forward to the coming of a great military leader. 

But then Christ came. Dreams were possible no longer. Christ was there among them, living and working. The dreams and illusions were shattered. People had to accept, not the idea of Messiah as they hoped he would be, but the Messiah as he actually was. Small wonder, then, that so many were to reject him. The dreams and the reality were so far apart that it was almost impossible for many to recognise Jesus as Messiah. They could have accepted a Messiah in gleaming armour, leading a Jewish army out against the might of the Roman legions. They could not accept a messiah born and raised as he was. Born to an unmarried woman in a cave in the hillside used as a stable, born in squalor and raised in poverty – one of the ’common people’ – as common as dirt. Had they been more perceptive they might have realised that it was only because Christ was one of the common people that ordinary people were able to come to him and accept him. They could have accepted the Messiah as a great Priest/King. How could they accept this carpenters son who was neither priest nor king? How could they recognise him? And in very real sense it was those disappointed expectations that led ultimately to his condemnation and his death on the cross. 

But I think in all this there’s a warning here for us too. Sometimes I think we tend to over spiritualise Christ, to put him up on a pedestal as an object of worship, and forget who he actually is. Jesus belongs to the world; he is not the property of the churchgoer or even just of the Christian. We have to accept Jesus as he is, not as we would wish him to be. We can look at a beautiful religious painting and say that we see Christ. Do we catch a glimpse of Christ in the tortured expression of a mother whose children are dying needlessly because of hunger or disease as she stares out at us from an Oxfam poster? We should, for Christ is assuredly there suffering alongside her. Christ belongs to the world, and we must be careful to accept him as he is, to recognise him where and how he comes to us, and not just to lock him away within the church. If we are not always open to receive Christ as he is, we too can be in danger of failing to recognise him, just as those Jewish elders rejected or failed to recognise the Christ in their midst, and tried to get rid of him by condemning him. 

This brings us right back to the foot of the cross, and the very human drama being played out there. But in that terrible and agonising event we must never forget that there was a great unseen presence – God was there too, sharing in that suffering. 

I think the truth of this really first came home to me in quite a dramatic way when, a number of years ago, I was on a visit to a hospital in Ethiopia supported by the charity for which I was then working. 

On Easter Saturday a party of us went out for a picnic. In the party was Ruth, a senior nurse at the hospital and a young Dutchwoman, Karin, who was in Addis Ababa to learn the language before taking up the post of Matron at a mission hospital elsewhere in Ethiopia. Karin’s father, Baz, there on a visit to see Karin, was also with us. We drove high into the mountains, parked the landrover, and went for a walk. I had stopped to take a photograph, and was some distance from the others when I heard a terrible scream. As I dashed up the path, I could see Karin lying unconscious on the ground, her body shaking with huge convulsions. Ruth and Baz were kneeling beside her. I thought she was having a fit, but it was much worse than that – in climbing the steep hillside Karin had lost her footing and tumbled down, striking her head hard on the ground. We were 50 miles from the nearest hospital – there was nothing at all that we could do for Karin except to pray. 

The convulsions gradually grew less, but then her heart seemed to stop. Baz still knelt beside her praying desperately, ‘Please Lord, she is my only child – please, please bring her back’. Then Ruth felt a faint pulse, which gradually grew stronger. As quickly and as gently as we could, we carried Karin – still in a coma – to the landrover, and drove back down the rough mountain tracks to the hospital in the city. 

Karin’s father was much too shaken to return to his lodgings that night, so he stayed at the hospital with us. In the morning he joined us for breakfast. By that time we knew that Karin was making a miraculous recovery. She had regained consciousness after being in a coma for six or seven hours, was sitting up in bed talking to the nurses, and apart from a severe headache and a lot of bruising, she was fine. 

In his halting English, Baz said to us, ‘I didn’t sleep much last night. I was reading St John’s gospel, “God so loved the world, that He gave us his only Son”. He only had one son, yet he loved us so much that he was prepared to give him up for the sake of each one of us.’ 

There is a truth and simplicity in those words that is so profound that we often fail to grasp it. Jesus himself is God’s precious gift to the world, God’s gift to each one of us. We can’t really even begin to understand the depths of such unconditional love – how God can care for us so much. But we don’t have to understand it – we just have to accept it. God is a loving parent who loves each one of us as if there was only one of us in the world to love, and he gave us his only son, Jesus, to be an example to us, a teacher, healer and helper. And if we accept him as he is, as he comes to us, he calls us his friends and shares his life with us. Thanks be to God

 “Take these things out of here! Stop making my Father’s house a marketplace!” Jesus in today’s Gospel, John 2:13-22.

“Be joyful and keep your faith and your creed. Do the little things you heard and saw in me.” Last words of St David. 

In John’s Gospel, the cleansing of the temple occurs at the start of Jesus’ ministry, after the first miracle of water being turned into wine at a wedding in Cana. In the other, synoptic, Gospels it happens after his Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday but, wherever it is placed, the incident has powerful consequences. It’s only in John’s account that Jesus fashions a whip to use, but this was probably to control the animals which were to be sacrificed. The outer temple was for Gentiles only and was the place where those who supplied the animals, birds and grain as well as the traders who exchanged street money for the special coins that had to be used in the temple all made a great deal of money from those who flocked there. 

In the synoptic Gospels, Jesus calls the traders a den of robbers and his concern seems to be focussed on the crowds of people being charged exorbitant costs. But in John’s Gospel, he seems more concerned that the temple should not be a market place

and Jesus takes action accordingly, driving out animals and traders alike. The resultant chaos would not endear him to the temple leaders and, whether at the  beginning or the end of his ministry, he makes enemies who, perhaps understandably, are appalled at what Jesus has done to their accepted customs and practice.

Perhaps Jesus’ comments and actions are uncomfortable to read even today, when many church congregations are hoping to raise money from visitors for the repair, maintenance and running costs of the buildings in their care. Cards, books and religious souvenirs are often for sale and gadgets for electronic donations are frequently in use. But no-one is forced to buy or give anything – although sometimes an entrance fee is charged – whereas money had to be changed for use in the temple and the generosity of some donors can make a huge difference to the upkeep and outreach of some of the beautiful but costly buildings.

This week, St David’s day has brought reminders of Dewi Saint’s last words, which offer such good advice in the face of some of the enormous issues being faced today. He was born in a hilltop cell during a storm, having been conceived in violence when his mother, Non, was raped by a chieftain. With so much violence being faced today, his words may hearten and renew those who celebrate his life, which was not defined by its beginnings. The encouragement he gave to his followers to seek God, making   prayer and action hallmarks of ministry, is still a foundation of faith today.

Dewi’s guidance was echoed this week in the letter that Charlie, a boy of ten, decided to write to the King. From one Charles to another, he told the monarch of his experience of being diagnosed with a kidney tumour that required lengthy surgery, chemotherapy, radiotherapy and eight months in hospital. Charlie has now been in remission for five years and advised Charles: “Never give up, be brave and don’t push your limits.” 

These are brave and heartening words from one so young who wants to encourage another person going through what they have already experienced. What words of advice would you give to someone else if you could and what little thing could be done today to make a difference to someone?

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian. 

“Get behind me, Satan.” Jesus in Mark 8:31-end, NIV.

“Get thee behind me, Stan.” Misprint in an order of service of Mark 8:33, KJV.

The name Satan originates from the Hebrew and means accuser or adversary. It’s one of the names by which the devil is known and he is often depicted as dressed in red with horns, a trident and cloven hooves, much in evidence at Hallowe’en, and often seen as a figure of fun. The accidental reference to him as Stan is amusing but part of his challenge in that so many people see the devil as an invention and part of the subtlety of the accuser is that so many people don’t believe he exists.

Whether or not the notion of a devil is accepted, the reality of the power of evil is very much in evidence today as any news broadcast indicates. When Jesus addresses Satan in the accusations he is making through what Peter is saying, Jesus clearly feels very strongly that he is being tempted to find another, easier, way of responding to what God is asking of him. It must have been horrifying for the disciples to hear Jesus speaking of his suffering and death –  understandably they would want to avoid this and Peter even rebukes Jesus for what he is saying. The harsh response from Jesus shows how strongly he reacted to the accusation that this must not be the way – and yet Jesus goes on to tell the disciples that they, too, must take up their own cross. What an awful prospect for them to contemplate!

The crucifixion is now so central to the Christian faith that it may be hard to grasp how shocking this would have been for the disciples to hear. Having seen the miracles he performed, the crowds he attracted and his effect on them, this would have filled them with hope for the future but what Jesus tells them so appalls the disciples that the actual hope for the future through the resurrection that will also follow seems to have been lost on them. Although the disciples are unable at this point to realise it, there will be hope – but not as they envisage. Perhaps, as our Lenten journey continues, the same is true for us?

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

‘The Spirit immediately drove Jesus out into the wilderness. He was in the wilderness forty days, tempted by Satan; and he was with the wild beasts; and the angels waited on him.’ From Mark 1:9-15, today’s Gospel.

‘Hope could arise from ashes even now Beginning with this sign upon your brow.’ 

From the poem ‘Ash Wednesday’ by Malcolm Guite.

On Ash Wednesday, those present in church had the sign of the cross made on their forehead. This is traditionally done with ashes made from last year’s palm crosses and the poem  by Malcolm Guite mentions the hope that can arise from broken promises and dreams when forgiveness breaks through and a new beginning can happen if it’s allowed to. Ashes are dirty and messy – but household ash can clean glass really well and potash can be helpful in the garden. From dirt, mess and destruction, new life can grow – where might hope still arise from ashes this year?

On this first Sunday of Lent, the reading from St Mark’s Gospel is the shortest of the temptation passages and simply states that Jesus was driven out into the wilderness immediately by the Spirit. This comes after his baptism but there is no time to celebrate this, which indicates the pressing nature of all that lies ahead – the time is now right for Jesus’ ministry to begin. The wilderness experience provides a time of reflection and testing that is essential as the way ahead and future hopes are discerned but there is no mention of the three temptations as in Matthew and Luke – Mark’s account is appropriately very brief as no-one else was present other than the Tempter. 

However, Mark’s is the only Gospel to note that wild beasts were with him – but, in the Holy Land, these would be more likely to be snakes and scorpions, reptiles rather than mammals. As these tend to hide away, the desert would seem barren but references to wild animals may echo the covenant in Genesis and throughout the Old Testament where God tells Noah that the agreement, “… is between me and you and every living creature of all flesh.” Gen.9:15. References in Isaiah 11:6-9 mention the wolf living with the lamb, the leopard lying down with the kid, the calf and the lion together and the cow grazing with the bear – this may be an indication of the dawning of the messianic age being fulfilled in Jesus. However, Mark’s Gospel was written at a time when many Christians were being fed to lions by Emperor Nero so this would be unlikely to heard as an indication of peace and perhaps more as a sign of Jesus becoming vulnerable in all God asks of him. Perhaps this would be part of the  angelic protection Mark mentions, although St Augustine said of Jesus that, “He endured death as a lamb; he devoured it as a lion.” Sermon 375A.

All this suggests that, despite its brevity, Mark’s account gives a great deal of food for thought. However, despite the arrest of John the Baptist, Jesus emerges from this desert experience proclaiming that, “The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God has come near; repent and believe the good news.” Therein lies the hope that may yet arise from the ashes and desert places we face in our own lives today as the Lenten journey begins. 

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

Lent Prayer

Today being Ash Wednesday, the start of Lent, the Bishop of St Asaph invites you to join him in praying the Diocesan Lent prayer everyday at or near 6pm. Welsh and English versions follow.   May Lent be a time of blessing as well as challenge. 

Christine, Guardian

Gweddi Grawys Yr Esgobaeth 2024
Meithrin ein ffydd, Arglwydd,
wrth inni ddilyn esiampl Iesu,
yn sefyll ar graig ein
hiachawdwriaeth.
Yn seiliedig arno fo,
boed inni brofi bywyd yn ei lawnder,
a dwyn ffrwyth trawsnewidiol.
Rho lawenydd i’th Eglwys
a gogoniant i’th enw. Amen.

Diocesan Lent Prayer 2024
Grow our faith, Lord,
as we follow the example of Jesus,
standing on the rock of our salvation.
Founded on him,
may we know life in its fulness,
and bring forth transforming fruit.
Give joy to your Church
and glory to your name.
Amen.

“They were terrified.” Peter, James and John in today’s Gospel Mark 9:2-9.

“God places us in the world as his fellow workers-agents of transfiguration. We work with God so that injustice is transfigured into justice, so there will be more compassion and caring, that there will be more laughter and joy, that there will be more togetherness in God’s world.” Desmond Tutu.

Although the Transfiguration is marked on August 6th, the same date as the explosion of light caused by the dropping of the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, today is Transfiguration Sunday as well as Quinquegessima or the Sunday before Lent. During that mountain top experience, Peter, James and John were at first terrified and then astounded by the unexpected intensity of light as Jesus was transfigured before them. By contrast, those witnessing the deadly light at Hiroshima found that it had fearful consequences for the many who were vaporised or disfigured by what had happened. The source of the light was key – Jesus was seen in his full glory but Hiroshima revealed the full devastation of what happened, although it lead to the surrender of Japan. The use of nuclear weapons marked a very different kind of transfiguration through disfiguration: ‘In one split second, the face of war changed completely.’  Imperial War Museum. 

Both before and after the Transfiguration, Jesus talks about suffering, death and resurrection, hence its link with Lent which begins on Ash Wednesday this week. Earlier, he had told his disciples that not all of them would taste death, “…until they see that the kingdom of God has come with power.” Mark 9:1. That happened just six days later for Peter, James and John who were the only ones who witnessed this – such dazzling spiritual experiences are not for all. 

During this experience, Jesus appears with Moses and Elijah who traditionally represent the Law and the Prophets. However, both men had mountain top experiences and Moses was a prophet as well as a law giver with the Ten Commandments. His face had to be covered by a veil after his encounter on Mount Sinai because it was too bright to bear for those around him but Moses reflected God’s light whereas Jesus IS the light. Touchingly, in verse 3 Mark describes Jesus’ clothing as being, ‘dazzling white, such as no one on earth could bleach them’ – perhaps the sharing of a reminiscence of what had happened? 

As Lent begins on Ash Wednesday this week, it’s a good time to consider the figures around or in the news who influence life today as well as those who transfigure or disfigure what unfolds. Even in the midst of the disfiguration suffered by air crew who were terribly burned during the war, the work of the surgeon Archibald McIndoe on members of the Guinea Pig Club in rebuilding bodies and souls led to the development of much of the plastic and cosmetic surgery that is available today. In the challenges being faced now, Desmond Tutu’s words still call us to engage with the hope of transfiguration as we consider the example of Jesus who, in the wilderness, overcame temptation and engaged with injustice and compassion. As we follow in his footsteps, will we see things in a new light?

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

Today is Creation Sunday and, with Candlemas also happening this week, three snowdrops are on the altar as nature’s candles, marking the ancient custom of making light, peace and hope visible as the beauty of creation displays the first signs of new life after winter. Actual candles are also blessed at this time as Jesus, Light of the World, is made visible in the Temple and as the generations meet through the aged and faithful Simeon and Anna, his parents and the baby, who would have been circumcised in the eighth day. Mary is coming to be purified thirty three days after this as would be expected in those days and it’s clear that, as observant Jews, the family is living by the law of Moses.

Not everyone lives by obeying the law, whether of Moses or the land where they live. I was struck recently by the words of a police officer who said of the nightly battle for law and order he and his colleagues face when darkness is a cover for criminal activity, “We shine the brightest.” This is a dark time of year with daylight hours still short, very troubling events in the world making many so gloomy and the stormy, cold weather not helping matters. It can be tempting to lose confidence and to think that there is little that can be done to improve things. That’s why the officer’s words had such an impact – he was sure he and his colleagues would overcome the criminals challenging them and that they could make a positive difference. And so they did!

As we face the challenges before us, perhaps we’re not sure that we can overcome them. There will be daily ways in which we can also make a difference – but what difference will we decide to make? February Filldyke is dark and rainy but early daffodils are already appearing, buds are developing on the magnolia and weeping willow trees here and the daylight is lengthening. There are signs of new life and growth all around – sometimes they are noticed and sometimes just overlooked.

The same is true of relationships too. The song This little light o’ mine, I’m going to let it shine is a joyful gospel song but it became well known as an anthem of the civil rights movement in the 1950s and 60s. During that struggle, many were heartened by it as, despite the circumstances, it helped to lower the awful tensions being experienced. The lyrics speak of letting the light shine – for those around us as well as ourselves:

This little light o’ mine, I’m goin’ to let it shine Everywhere I go, I’m goin’ to let it shine …

In my neighbour’s home, I’m goin’ to let it shine Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.’

The light is there – it’s a question of letting it shine. At the funeral of Eleanor Roosevelt, wife of the President of the USA, it was said that she would rather, “…light a candle than curse the darkness.” She championed civil rights, doing what she could and letting her light shine when others were eclipsed. In the darkness and challenges still being faced today will we let ours shine or look for what creation is showing us about new life and growth? And, as Candlemas marks the turning from Christmas to Easter and Lent beginning on 14th February, do we shine the brightest we can?

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

 ’Judas said, “I have sinned by betraying innocent blood.”….. He went and hanged himself.’ From Matthew 27:1-10.

You couldn’t do this and you couldn’t do that, but life went on.

Anne Frank, in her Diary, published after her death from typhus at the age of 15 in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp.

The theme of Holocaust Memorial Day this year, marked on the day of the liberation of the Auschwitz-Birkenau concentration camp, is the Fragility of Freedom and some of what follows is testimony from those involved at the time. A purple flame is the symbol of the Holocaust Memorial Trust and so the actual words of survivors are written in purple. 

When the Nazis arrived in the Netherlands, Anne wrote in her diary:

That is when the trouble started for the Jews. Our freedom was severely restricted by a series of anti-Jewish decrees: Jews were required to wear a yellow star; Jews were required to turn in their bicycles; Jews were forbidden to use trams; Jews were forbidden to ride in cars, even their own; Jews were required to do their shopping between 3.00 and 5.00p.m; Jews were required to frequent only Jewish-owned barbershops and beauty salons; 

Jews were forbidden to be out on the streets between 8.00 p.m. and 6.00 a.m.; Jews were forbidden to go to theatres, cinemas or any other forms of entertainments; Jews were forbidden to use swimming pools, tennis courts, hockey fields or any other athletic fields; Jews were forbidden to go rowing; Jews were forbidden to take part in any athletic activity in public; Jews were forbidden to sit in their gardens or those of their friends after 8.00 p.m.; Jews were forbidden to visit Christians in their homes; Jews were required to attend Jewish schools, etc. You couldn’t do this and you couldn’t do that, but life went on. 

Life went on, despite what was happening, just as it does today for those still enduring the consequences of persecution, racism and hatred as others look on or prefer not to acknowledge what is unfolding. Genocide not only erodes the freedom of those being targeted, but also the freedom of those around them yet there are also those who are willing to do what they can to enable freedom or escape. 

However, many of those who survived the war and the camps found, like Esther Brunstein, that they were not free despite their liberation: The first few days after liberation were joyous and yet sad, confusing and bewildering. I did not know how to cope with freedom after years of painful imprisonment.

When freed, many former prisoners were alone and unable to return home, having to live in a new country, learn a different language and rebuild their health and lives whilst living with terrible memories and the loss of families and friends. Many were physically free, but not psychologically, sometimes remaining stigmatised or traumatised for the rest of their life. Others, like Judas Iscariot after betraying Jesus, committed suicide as they were unable to live with the consequences of what had happened. 

With persecutions since in Cambodia, Rwanda, Bosnia and Dafur, the ongoing wars between Israel and Gaza and elsewhere now mean that anti-Semitism and anti-Muslim attacks as well as other forms of prejudice and hatred are increasing once more. It may be tempting and understandable to seek revenge but as the son of a partisan who avenged his murdered family by killing Nazis after the war observed at a mass war grave in Belarus:

”The greatest revenge wasn’t killing Germans. The greatest revenge was building life.”

Joe Green, in ‘Revenge: Our dad the Nazi killer’, a BBC Storyville documentary.

In whatever we are battling to overcome, therein lies the challenge for us all.

With my prayers; pob bendith. 

Christine, Guardian.

This is the Third Sunday of Epiphany, when the set Gospel reading is the continuing revelation of Christ’s glory, shown in his first miracle when water was turned into wine at a wedding in Cana. As it’s the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity, today’s reflection originates from the parable of the Good Samaritan and resources offered by the persecuted churches in Burkina Faso in West Africa. These are provided by Churches Together in Britain and Ireland and further details can be found on their website at ctbi.org.uk

With my prayers,

Christine, Guardian.

”Which of these…was a neighbour to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?” The lawyer said, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

From Luke 10:25-36.

The priest and Levite who walked by on the other side may have had religious reasons for not helping. The beginning of the text for the Week of Prayer tells us how the teacher of the law wanted to justify himself. The priest and the Levite in the parable would have felt justified in what they had done. Yet on many occasions, Jesus is critical of religious leadership for placing the rules of religion ahead of the obligation always to do good.

This parable of Jesus not only challenges us to do good, but also to widen our vision. We do not learn what is good and holy only from those who share our confessional or religious worldview, but often from those who are different from us. Light and love are embodied in our enemy too. The Good Samaritan is often the one we do not expect….

The Good Samaritan did what he could out of his own resources: he poured oil and wine and bandaged the man’s wounds and put him on his own animal. The Samaritan went further still by promising to pay for the man’s care. When we see the world through the Samaritan’s eyes, every situation can be an opportunity to help those in need. This is where love manifests itself. The example of the Good Samaritan motivates us to ask ourselves how to respond to our neighbour. He gave wine and oil, restoring the man and giving him hope. What can we give, so that we can be a part of God’s work of healing a broken world?…. How do we empower such courageous behaviour, recognising there is a cost?

At the end of the parable, Jesus asked the lawyer: who was the neighbour to the man who was robbed? The lawyer replied “the one who showed him mercy”. He does not say “the Samaritan” and we might imagine that the hostility between Samaritans and Jews made that answer hard to admit. We often discover our neighbours in the most unexpected people, even those whose very name or origins we find difficult to utter. In today’s world, where polarised politics often set those of different religious identities against one another, Jesus challenges us through this parable to see the importance of our vocation to transgress borders and walls of separation.

Like the lawyer, we are challenged to reflect upon how we live our lives, not merely in terms of whether we do good or not, but whether, like the priest and the Levite, we are neglecting to do mercy.

Through these words – “Go and do likewise” – Jesus sends each of us, and our churches, to live out His commandment to love. Inspired by the Holy Spirit, we are sent out to be “other Christs”, reaching out to a suffering humanity in compassion and mercy. Like the Good Samaritan towards the injured man, we can choose not to reject those who are different, rather cultivating a culture of proximity and goodwill – actively seeking out and moving towards opportunities to be hospitable, to welcome and to share – in our common task to bring to fruition the dream of God.

Jesus answered, ”I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.” 

From John 1:43-51.



”We shine the brightest.” Durham police officer, speaking of the nightly battle for law and order when darkness is a cover for criminal activity. 

At this season of Epiphany, revelations continue as Jesus is seen in the first chapter of John’s gospel as ‘the Lamb of God’ (v29), ‘one who baptises with the Holy Spirit (v33), ‘the Son of God’ (v34) and ‘Rabbi’ (v38). It is the third of ‘the next day’ texts where Jesus finds Philip in Galilee and tells him to “Follow me”. Philip does so, but first goes to tell Nathanael that the one about whom Moses and the prophets wrote has been found. Nathanael is scornful – “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” – but Philip then invites him to come and see for himself. Nathanael responds and is astounded when Jesus discerns that he is an Israelite with no deceit. As Jesus tells him that he saw him under the fig tree before Philip called him, this being traditionally a place where a Rabbi would study the Torah, Nathanael then realises for himself that the Rabbi before him is, “…the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!” This is an astonishing revelation, given that Nathanael was originally so scornful, and Jesus goes on to tell him that he will see far greater things, including heaven itself and the angels. 

Despite what he originally perceived, Nathanael was willing to respond to Philip’s call and then to change his mind. As he saw for himself, so Jesus looked on him and promised great things to come. All of this could happen because Philip told Nathanael the good news about Jesus and, at such a dark and challenging time today, good news is needed more than ever. Hope will triumph over despair, love will triumph over evil and the message of the Prince of Peace will eventually prevail – but meanwhile, darkness, misunderstanding and wrongdoing may seem to have the upper hand. That’s particularly pertinent as revelations continue about the great miscarriage of justice by Post Office administrators, the increasing tensions in the Middle East, the unresolved issues over refugees, the waste of money with HS2 and much more. There may seem to be little that can be done but there are many opportunities to make a positive difference in small if not great ways, although we may have to change our mindset or leave our comfort zone to see this for ourselves – like Nathanael. How this might happen is complex and diverse but the Durham police officer spoke with confidence in himself and his colleagues in bringing light into the darkness. In answering God’s call in our lives, or encouraging others to respond as did Philip, at this dark time the light and insight we can contribute with others is vital. Jesus’ question to his followers today as well as those first disciples is appropriate in light of the way ahead as 2024 unfolds and Epiphany continues: “What are you looking for?” (v38)

With my prayers; pob bendith

Christine, Guardian.