News and reflections

Power and status seem to go hand in hand. Striking robes and expensive clothing, big cars and private jets. And there are lots of subtle rituals that are designed to emphasise the importance of those of high rank. The church is not immune to this, with elaborate ceremonies and practices which enhance the status of its leaders, robes, seats of honour, and titles.

But Jesus is a radical. He turns these structures and systems of power upside down. By replacing a horse with a donkey, he makes a point. Even so, the people around him go out of their way to make a fuss with a carpet of cloaks and palm branches cut to wave as flags and triumphant banners. Yet, within a week, they will desert him as quickly as their shouts fade away. The events of Palm Sunday are an exercise in the flaky ephemera of status.

Power exists for a reason: it holds within itself the ability to make things happen. After all, everyone has some power to an extent. How it is used, though, speaks volumes about the aspirations and true ambitions of those who hold it. To have ambition to make a difference can be a noble desire, and many politicians will speak of that being their motivation. The true leaders, though, are the ones who are the willing servants of those they seek to lead. The first word in the rule of St Benedict is ‘listen’. We listen to God, to one another, to aim to discern the path that will lead to flourishing and true peace.

One of the treasures of St Asaph Cathedral is the William Morgan translation of the Bible into Welsh, printed in 1588. This enabled people at the time to read and hear the words of life and peace in their own tongue. It was an act of service that opened the scriptures, rather than just expecting people to do as they were told. Faith and understanding went hand in hand.

As we journey with Jesus through what we call Holy Week, we recall that during the meal on Maundy Thursday, Jesus gave a dramatic example of servant leadership. He took a bowl and a towel and proceeded to wash the feet of his disciples. No leader would stoop to do this, but he did to show that this leader cares for them, will humble himself for them and, if they are to be leaders like him, they must do the same. Many churches re-enact this, with feet washing as they recall the Last Supper.

This Holy Week, how tempting is it in our own lives to want to be in a position of power and high status rather than humility?

‘Jesus wept.’ From today’s Gospel, John 11:1-45.

“The Lord who weeps is also the Lord who resurrects.” Debi Thomas, columnist.

There is so much that could be said about today’s Gospel, not least that Jesus’ words in verse 25 are traditionally used at funeral services as a message of hope and trust. “I am the resurrection and the life. Those who believe in me, even though they die will live, and everyone who lives and believes in me will never die. Do you believe this?” That profound question is one each of us must answer for ourselves as it challenges us across the centuries now as well as Martha and Mary then.

Also striking is the faith of the two sisters as Martha says that she knows that God will give Jesus whatever he asks without telling him what it is that she wants him to do. It’s also Martha who, in the midst of the loss of her brother, makes the powerful declaration “I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God…”paralleling the confessions of Peter and Thomas. That’s followed by Mary, who weeps for Lazarus as she falls at Jesus’ feet. In prostrating herself as she comes to Jesus in this way, her trust and grief draws an astonishing response from Jesus in the shortest verse in the whole Bible: ‘Jesus wept.’ These remarkable sisters and the death of their brother cause Jesus not only to experience the pain of humanity but also to share in it. This is not some remote deity, but one who weeps with us, who experiences loss and grief yet brings also the means of hope within that devastation.

However, Jesus didn’t come to Bethany until two days after hearing that Lazarus was ill, by which time he had died. John suggests that this was so that God could be glorified through what was to happen, and Martha and Mary could have been deeply challenged by Jesus’ delay as they both tell him, “Lord, if you had been here my brother would not have died.” In waiting so long for him to arrive, their faith may have been tested and yet what happens in the raising of Lazarus after his death is probably far more than they could have imagined. As we hear this story anew, it may be that perhaps we have also had a delay with prayers that have not been quickly answered and perhaps our faith or hopes have been dashed accordingly. If so, we can take heart from Mary, Martha and Lazarus: perhaps the delay may mean God has something far more than we can anticipate in store when the time is right. God answers prayer – just not always in the way or time we expect, as Martha and Mary discovered.

However, it’s Lazarus who experiences the greatest change, having been dead for four days and there being a stench in the tomb. Jesus issues two imperatives: “Take away the stone” and “Lazarus, come out!” That is then followed by a third: “Unbind him and let him go.” Jesus could perhaps have done this himself but, in telling those around him to do so, Martha, Mary and those present participate in enabling the miracle to happen as Lazarus is restored to life. Jesus could work alone, but chooses to involve them – and us, too, in the mission that still continues today. 

Perhaps we know someone who has had painful experiences of loss and grief that deaden their response to Jesus’ call in their lives? Perhaps we ourselves have known this, too, or wept at the state of the world today with so much warfare and suffering evident in so many ways? Through our prayers, our words and our actions, we  too can be involved with others in our communities in unbinding those caught up in so many deadening worries, issues and habits, discovering as we do that this is life giving not only for them but for us, too. 

In the words of Debi Thomas, “We serve a God who calls us to life. Our journey is not to the grave but through it. The Lord who weeps is also the Lord who resurrects. So we mourn in hope.” 

Amidst the weeping and mourning, where might the hope be?  

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Priest Guardian.

Reflection for the Third Sunday of Lent – Penitence.

“Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near….. Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.” John the Baptist in Matthew 3:1-3.

This Lenten journey began with pancakes and being shriven. Now we have another moment to pause, to look back and to look forward in hope. Here we find the aim of being penitent, a crucial part of what Lent is about. The call from John the Baptist is to “repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near”. It’s to look back at where we began, to reflect internally about how we got here, to atone, and to consider the future.

Brecon Cathedral has a history rooted in penitence and prayer. It used to be a Benedictine Priory, a place where the solitude of its location amongst the hills mirrored the solitude of the people who lived and worshipped there. Reflecting through prayer in the sanctuary of an ancient building, where Christians have worshipped for over 900 years, can be a very profound experience. Think about all those Benedictine monks, how different their lives were to ours, and how similar, as well. They, too, will have had to reckon with repentance, grappling with the harm they’ve caused or harm that they’ve experienced. As we reflect on this third week of our Lenten journey, this spiritual pilgrimage, how have we been diverted on our journeys with God? Who have we injured on the way? Who’s injured us? What relationships have been damaged or broken? From repentance, can reconciliation grow?

Reconciliation is not easy. It requires daring to hold out a hand to another, possibly the one who has injured us, or one whom we have injured, and seeking to be honest with compassion and care. The other will only respond well if they think we genuinely care about them. If we don’t, they will probably spot this, and chances are it won’t work. In some cases, if the relationship that is damaged was abusive, this may be about coming to terms with what has happened, recognising that we are not to blame, and going forward with renewed blessing. That may be the best we can achieve.

‘Making paths straight’, as John the Baptist says, requires nothing short of the grace of God. But it starts with the humility that recognises I am a sinner in need of God’s healing grace, and so is the other. The kingdom of heaven we seek is one where these injuries and conflicts have no place. So, if we are to recognise it has come near, there is a challenge to seek reconciliation, forgiveness, and healing. What are the signs of hope that come with the new day’s promise?

Today’s reflection is part of the virtual pilgrimage to St David’s Cathedral, the second instalment of the Church in Wales Lent course ‘From Pancakes to Palm Crosses’. For its full content, or the entire course, please go to churchinwales.org.uk where further details are to be found in the evangelism section.

“If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me.” Jesus, in today’s Gospel Matthew 16:24-27.

Gwnewch y pethau by chain mewn bywyd – Do the little things in life. A Welsh maxim based on the words of St David.

For centuries, pilgrims have been coming to St David’s Cathedral on the western coast of Pembrokeshire in their thousands. Here, Dewi Sant, St David, founded a house of prayer for his community of monks, and this holy place continues to inspire and renew those who come today.

David’s final words have become a popular phrase in Wales: “Be joyful, keep the faith and do the little things you have seen in me.” They are words to live by as we consider: what gives us joy? What makes our hearts sing? What’s the root of the faith that guides and shapes our lives, however we express this? What are the things we do to make a difference to those around us – those we meet and more widely? All of this can be wrapped up in thanksgiving as we make each day a moment to praise and reinforce the joy in our hearts.

Some people seem to have a capacity to travel light, some of us need to take the kitchen sink with us when we go on a journey. At the site of the shrine of David, there is a connection with those who have gone this way before us, needing far less than we might weigh ourselves down with, and finding here a treasure beyond possessions. At first sight, being asked to take up our cross and follow Jesus does not look like travelling light, it sounds rather heavy. It’s an image that recognises we have a cross to bear, be that an injury of mind or body, worries or concerns, a trial or struggle ahead, something we might find difficult or very costly. Life brings cost. The invitation is to pick these up and follow Jesus, to give our whole selves over to God in faith and trust.

Such self-giving and self-returning delights in knowing that our lives belong to God, from whom they come and to whom they return. Our ultimate fate lies with God. It can be easy to give up or despair, especially if the going is tough. There are no gadgets or special kit to make the journey of life easier. The persistence required to keep going comes from a heart that desires all that God has to give and seeks it out. As is so often the case, though, seeking God is really a process of being found by God, who is always waiting for us to show up as we are with our cross in tow. Persistence in the pilgrim’s way is a journey of the heart into knowing and being known by God who comes among us in Jesus Christ, and calls us to follow him with joy, faith, and the little things. Our lives belong to God, so perhaps the cross is not really so heavy after all?

The chimney sweep came last week and reminded me that, so long as only wood is burned, the ashes from the stove can be scattered on the garden due to the potash and other elements that can be good for the soil or a compost heap. That’s also one of the hopeful signs of Ash Wednesday, which marks the start of Lent when the sign of the cross is made on the forehead using ashes from last year’s palm crosses. Lent is a traditional time of fasting, prayer and almsgiving, when the words ‘dust you are and to dust you shall return’ remind us of the need for repentance and renewal as well as the mortality faced in our own lives and the world in which we live. One day we, too, will return to the good earth whence we came, in burial whether of a body or its ashes, if in a churchyard – although the scattering of ashes is possible in other locations. 

That’s not easy to think of but it’s important to take stock of time and our use of it and, in token of this, people sometimes put a rose in the place where ashes of cremated remains have been interred in the hope of it growing into a living tribute to a loved one. However, the high temperatures needed to cremate a body mean that nothing organic is left to sustain the plant and so more earth needs to be added between the ashes and the roots as it will otherwise scorch and possibly kill the rose. Some people don’t know that and so the plant may not flourish. Ash can fertilise but it can also harm – it depends on its origins and application. 

That’s why the sign of the cross made in ash is so potent. It’s a symbol and reminder that, although Lent leads to Good Friday and the terrible crucifixion of Jesus, it also leads on beyond that to resurrection and new life because sin and death did not have the last word. Like the empty cross symbolising Easter Day, new life can spring from the ashes of broken dreams and failed hopes. As we are marked with that same sign, may the ash be a symbol, like potash, that can nurture and sustain the new life that is to be and not a sign of the sterility of cremated ashes that can’t. We may be caught up in the mess and dirt of life but God meets us with hope in the wilderness that our lives can sometimes become. His grace and transforming love can turn the ashing into the stuff of new life and the ashen cross can become not only a mark of penitence but also a sign of hope of what God has done through Jesus and is still able to do in our lives – no matter how messy things seem. And so may Lent bring blessings and renewal as well as penitence and temptations as it begins today.

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

“This is my Son, the Beloved; with him I am well pleased; listen to him.” Matthew 17:1-9.

“No one lives “on Tabor” while on earth.” Pope Benedict. 

Transfiguration Sunday is a pivotal point between the end of Epiphanytide and the start of Lent, Holy Week and Easter. There are links with what happened in the Book of Exodus when a cloud fell on Mount Sinai and the glory of the Lord appeared like a fire as the Law was given to Moses and his face had to be veiled as it shone so brightly. The Transfiguration is thought to have happened on Mount Tabor in Lower Galilee with the three disciples  Peter, James and John as witnesses according to Jewish tradition. As this happens, Matthew writes that Jesus’ face shines like the sun as his clothes became dazzlingly white – the disciples seem to cope astonishingly well with this and even the appearance of Moses and Elijah, representing the Law and the Prophets, who are talking with Jesus. What were they saying?! 

Peter suggests making three booths to mark what is happening, making Moses and Elijah as important as Jesus, but he misunderstands – Jesus is not one of three, rather the One awaited. As Peter says this, a bright light overshadows them and words heard during Jesus’ baptism are echoed with the addition of the voice telling his followers to listen to him. It’s this voice, urging attention to be given to Jesus’ identity and words, that seems to make the disciples fearful and they fall to the ground, to be reassured by Jesus himself. As this astonishing experience ends, he is concerned for them rather than himself as he touches the disciples to reassure them that he is still with them and tells them to get up – meaning to be raised up, just as Jesus will later be raised up at his resurrection. As he tells them not to be afraid and orders them not to speak of this until then, the disciples must have later borne witness to this happening as Matthew, Mark and Luke all write of the Transfiguration although they were not actually present. 

The Transfiguration affirms Jesus’ identity for himself and the three disciples at a time of preparation for all that lies ahead. They all then descend from this glorious mountain top experience into the valley, crowds, suffering and questions that await them. As Pope Benedict’s words remind us, we also have to face challenging and sometimes painful reality as well as glory in our daily lives. 

“Listen to him” said the voice that was heard by the disciples at the Transfiguration and as Lent approaches, perhaps more time could be spent in listening to Jesus through Scripture, prayer and the events in life that can sometimes threaten to disfigure humanity and faith. At times when we, or others, may be downcast or petrified in the face of what is happening, Jesus can still reach out to us with healing and hope when time is made for this to happen, raising us up to new life as his words speak to us and our situations today as to his witnesses then: “Get up and do not be afraid.”

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Guardian.

As the Guardian is having treatment which temporarily blurs vision, today’s reflection is an excerpt from a sermon by Revd. Mandy Ralph which is published online by Churches Together in Britain and Ireland. Please see https://ctbi.org.uk/ for her entire sermon as well as further reflections, prayers and resources in connection with Racial Justice Sunday 2026.

LOVING OUR NEIGHBOUR – REVD MANDY RALPH 

Jesus teaches us that loving God with our whole being and loving our neighbours as ourselves are the two most important principles for Christian living. They are core to following in faith and being in relationship with God.

Surely that seems simple enough. Love. There is no complicated jargon, no pages of guidance, no risk assessment required. Just a command – or, if you prefer, a request – to love our neighbours as we love ourselves. But hold on – is that my next-door neighbour, the neighbours that I get on with, the ones who think like me, worship like me? Or is it the neighbours who look different, talk differently, whose culture is different from mine? Is it the difficult ones, those who have different points of view from me and who are, to be honest, quite irritating? Jesus tells us that is a resounding YES!

As Christians, we are asked to love all our neighbours, irrespective of who they are. Yes, that does mean even the ones who can try our patience! If we stop to think about it, we are first asked to love God with all our heart, mind, body and strength – all in, no exceptions. When it comes to loving our neighbours, it’s the same thing – it is all of them, all in, no exceptions. That is what Jesus asks of us when we are in relationship with God. Loving God and loving our neighbour are intertwined, and so, in faith, we cannot do one without the other.

But do we love all our neighbours? Can we, hand on heart, honestly say we love our neighbours? The protests about immigration that have taken place across the country, shown on TV, shared on social media over the past few months – the rhetoric, the language, the posts, the actions of others: these are a far cry from loving our neighbour. 

Protests against immigration, asylum seekers, those with cultural backgrounds different from our own; people of colour, who are not deemed or no longer deemed to be our neighbour. The spread of misinformation, fear mongering, persecution and hate. That does not equate to loving our neighbour.

If we have given our all to God, profess our faith to be Christian and undertake to walk in the ways of Jesus, then that means loving all our neighbours, not being hateful and abusive towards them. I am a Black, female, now disabled minister who, when told to ‘Go back home,’ responds, ‘Well, that would be Glasgow,’ as I was born and brought up in Scotland. I am Scottish. Probably not the expected response, but I should not have to prove I am your neighbour. No one should have to do that. We are all made in the image of God and are all part of the family of God. 

Our faith asks us to be loving to God and to each other. We are not asked to be perfect, for none of us is, but to be willing to follow in faith. 

Today we remember the three airmen killed on this day in 1944 when their Grumman Avenger Mk.I FN821 of No. 848 Naval Air Squadron, Royal Navy, crashed on Trum y Fawnog near Llangynog.

William Seddon Appleby, Sub Lieutenant, RNZNVR, Pilot 

Ernest Hartley Green, Sub Lieutenant (A), RNVR, Passenger (Pilot) 

Joe Lupton, Sub Lieutenant (A), RNVR, Observer 

who were all killed when their Grumman Avenger Mk.I FN821 / 4K of No.848 Naval Air Squadron, Royal Navy, crashed on Trum y Fawnog near Llangynog on the 3rd February 1944. 

The aircraft is reported to have been on a transit flight from Gosport to Kirkwall via Machrihanish at the time of its loss. The pilot, Sub Lieutenant Appleby, was assigned to HMS Landrail at Machrihanish while the other two crew were assigned to HMS Robin at Kirkwall. 

While over the southern most end of the Berwyn mountains near the village of Llangynog the aircraft dived out of a snow shower into open moorland at Cerrig Trwsgl on the eastern end of the Trum y Fawnog where it exploded killing the three crew members, leaving a large crater on the hilltop and wreckage scattered over a wide area. 

Following a recovery operation, the three crew were buried at various locations across the country. The aircraft’s pilot, Sub Lt Appleby, was buried at Oswestry, Sub Lt Green in Cardiff and Sub Lt Lupton at Morley near Leeds. 

On 3rd February 2025, this memorial to the airmen was unveiled near the site of the crash.   

“For my eyes have seen your salvation…a light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel.” Simeon, in today’s Gospel Luke 2:22-40.

“Range far your eye over long distances.” Proverb quoted byPresident Xi to Sir Keir Starmer in China this week, urging a long term view of their relationship. 

Although it’s actually tomorrow, Candlemas is celebrated today with the presentation of Christ in the Temple by Mary and Joseph. As observant Jews, they are following the Mosaic Law by bringing the first-born son to the Temple forty days after birth whilst Mary also undergoes the customary ritual purification of a mother after childbirth. 

Mary and Joseph offer the sacrifice of two turtle doves or a couple of pigeons, the offering of the poor, so it seems that they were not wealthy – this is probably before the gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh from the visit of the Magi, which may have taken place up to two years after the birth of Jesus. Whilst they are in the Temple, Mary and Joseph meet two elderly people, Simeon and Anna. Simeon praises God in the words of what is now known as the Nunc Dimittis: “Lord, now let your servant depart in peace – your word has been fulfilled.” He has been told that he won’t die until the Messiah has come the Temple and the Holy Spirit enables Simeon to discern that, even in so busy a place, Jesus (whose name means the Lord is my salvation) is the one for whom he has been waiting. Faithful Simeon’s song of praise and fulfilment is one of the canticles still used in Evening Prayer today as well as at funerals. Simeon also warns Mary of the pain of what is to come later, and his words are completed by those of Anna, a widow aged eighty-four, who has also waited faithfully and obediently for what is unfolding, though there are no more details about her or what she says. This happens in Luke’s Gospel just after the shepherds came to the manger and then the naming of Jesus when he was eight days old – ordinary people are involved in extraordinary things happening, no matter how unlikely God’s plans may seem. Where might that still be the case today?

Because Jesus is recognised as the Light, so it became the custom for church candles to be blessed at this time, with other candles also being brought for dedication. As it coincides with nature’s candles, the snowdrops, emerging from the gloom of winter so Candlemas became a turning point from Christmas to the cross and from winter to spring. Once again, the traditional weather folklore may be heard as notice is taken of the signs of new life all around: 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. 

Both Simeon and Anna were able to notice the signs before them because, Luke says, they were people of faith and prayer. Both must have been deeply tested over the years, Simeon vigilant for the Messiah and the prophet Anna living so much of her life with loss having been married for only seven years. They were willing to wait patiently but hopefully and were now elderly but still have a sense of expectation and wonder which can sometimes be lost in later life. Perhaps their age and experience enabled them to have a longer-term perspective on God at work in the world and to glimpse what others couldn’t – as George Herbert puts it in Prayer (1): Heaven in ordinarie. 

Ordinarily, my sight is good but I recently began to have problems with my vision, which I put down to conjunctivitis at first. But, when I had to open the fridge door with my eyes closed because I couldn’t bear the light within, I realised it must be more serious. A referral from my optician meant that I had to have an urgent hospital appointment – but my vision was now so blurred that I couldn’t drive the lengthy distance. My kind neighbour took me and it was confirmed that I had iritis, for which steroid eye drops are needed. The eye is now improving but my vision remains temporarily blurred and all this showed me that there are many reasons why it may not be possible to see clearly what is happening, just as the help of those around is so often needed to respond to events. 

In Revelation 3:18, Jesus suggests that the lukewarm church in Laodicea, a place known for its medical school and salves, should “Buy from me….salve to anoint your eyes that you may see.” This verse is for spiritual rather physical sight but the words salve, salvation, salvage and saviour all stem from the Latin salvare, to save. So, when Simeon speaks of seeing God’s salvation and the consolation of Israel, he knows that his waiting for the Messiah is over and his vigil ended. The Jews had to wait many centuries for this to happen, Simeon and Anna waited until almost the end of their lives and Mary would have to wait for another thirty years for the promises she had been given to be fulfilled. That’s a long time of nothing much out of the ordinary seeming to happen, yet God’s purposes are nevertheless unfolding. What are we waiting for, and are we really looking for Heaven in ordinarie? Meanwhile, spare a thought for the opticians, medics and pharmaceutical companies who enable better vision and, this Candlemas, why not light a candle of hope to see more clearly what’s going on?

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Priest Guardian.

“Is not this the man who made havoc?” People listening toSaul in Acts 9:1-22.

‘Every saint has a past, every sinner a future.’ Oscar Wilde.

As the season of Epiphany continues with its revelations, it’s appropriate that the celebration of the Conversion of Saul occurs during this time and close to the Week of Prayers for Christian Unity since Paul’s known as the Apostle to the Gentiles, those who are not Jews. After his intense persecutions of followers of the Way, as the first Christians were called, Saul’s conversion led to him preaching in local synagogues and then later travelling widely to spread the Gospel message to those who had not heard it. Raised as a Pharisee, which he called ‘the strictest sect of our religion’ (Acts 26:5), Saul was named after the prophet who became the first king of Israel but his name as a Roman citizen, Paul, was also used later as it was more familiar to the Gentiles. Perhaps we also use other names at various times and for all sorts of reasons? 

Paintings of his conversion often show Saul travelling on a horse to Damascus 130 miles from Jerusalem and falling off it due a blinding light as a voice, later identified as Jesus, asks him, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?” (Acts 9:4.)This astonishing encounter leads to Saul being taken by those with him to a place where, for three days, he is without sight and neither eats nor drinks – what a loss of the power to which Saul was accustomed and what a complete change for him as he awaits what will happen.

Just as astonishing is the courage of Ananias, the disciple in Damascus who is told in a vision to go to Saul and lay hands on him to regain his sight. Understandably, Ananias is at first reluctant because of Saul’s persecution of so many followers but he is eventually obedient and not only goes to the house where he is but even calls him, “Brother Saul.” What grace and acceptance he shows in so doing! Saul’s conversion to the Way begins as he regains his sight and sees his situation in a completely different light – although many challenges lie ahead, eventually his Pharisaical education, background and Roman citizenship, combined with his zeal and willingness to respond to what Jesus asked of him, enable Saul to become a great theologian, writer and missionary so influential in the early church. 

In every life, gifts and influence can be used or, sometimes, forsaken. Perhaps there are times when there is a refusal to engage with others whose actions and views may be opposed or when fear gains the upper hand as it did at first for many of the Jews and Gentiles affected by Saul’s conversion and transformation. Or, self-righteousness has perhaps led to telling others to get off their high horse, or being told to do so ourselves, stemming from the days when people who thought themselves to be important would ride tall horses to appear more imposing. “How are the mighty fallen,” lamented David after the deaths of King Saul and Jonathan in battle (2 Samuel 1:19) but this Saul finds that his fall from power leads to his conversion, baptism and a completely different way of life when he listens to God’s call and receives the help of Ananias, a prayerful follower of the Way.

Paul’s conversion indicates that no-one is beyond God’s love and call, no matter what has happened before or what seems to lie ahead, and times of change can happen in the most astonishing ways, as it did for Saul of Tarsus. Some people never have a Damascus Road event but in every journey of faith there will be falls from grace or less dramatic experiences than Saul’s when it’s clear that there is a need to change and see things differently – or help others to. At those times of change in the past, who served as prayerful and gracious Ananias to us – and for whom could we be an Ananias today?

With my prayers; pob bendith,

Christine, Priest Guardian.