Puerto de la Cruz, Tenerife North
A message from Bishop Robert Innes – Bishop of Gibraltar in Europe.
“With the passing of Pope Francis, the world has lost a spiritual leader who was of towering importance on the global stage.”
Bishop Robert’s full statement can be found here: https://t.co/XVzWQh0XR6
Click here to read the sermon for Easter Day 2025
Click here to see an album of photos of our Easter Day celebrations
Today we remember the Danair air crash. The Church gardens are home to a very special memorial, a Rose Garden dedicated to the memory of the 146 passengers and crew who lost their lives when Dan Air charter flight 1008 inbound from Manchester to Tenerife North airport crashed in the nearby forest of La Esperanza on 25th April 1980.
The anniversary of the disaster is marked each year at the Sunday service nearest to the date as the congregation gather in the garden to remember those who died that day. The Memorial Service will take place after the Sunday Service this Sunday 27th April.
11am Sung Eucharist – Celebrant Mtr Fiona Jack, Preacher Peter Lockyer
11am – The Annual Church Meeting in the Church grounds. Everyone is welcome but only those on the Electoral Roll can vote.
10am – 2pm Car Boot Sale Please note dogs not allowed in the church grounds
Mtr Fiona – how it began and her vision for the future.
Julie Kempson (https://puertodelacruz.info) interviews our Chaplain Mtr Fiona Jack
Sermon Easter 2025 John 20 : 1-18
It was still dark. Not just outside, but inside too. The kind of darkness that settles in when hope has been crushed. When the one you loved, the one you believed in, is gone. That was the world Mary Magdalene walked through on that early morning—the tomb, the garden, the silence.
She wasn’t expecting a miracle. She wasn’t hoping for resurrection. She was just doing what grief does: returning to the place of loss, to be near what was left.
And then—the tomb is open.
She runs. She tells Peter and the other disciple. They come, they see the grave clothes. But then they leave. Mary stays.
Because love stays. She weeps. She peers into the tomb, and even angels don’t shake her out of her grief. It isn’t until Jesus speaks her name that the darkness begins to lift.
“Mary.” The first word of Easter wasn’t a declaration. It wasn’t a trumpet or a theological statement. It was a name. A whisper. A moment of recognition. And in that moment, resurrection became personal.
It’s a story many of us know by heart. Some of us have heard it every Easter of our lives. But maybe this year, we don’t need to ask, “How can this be true?” Maybe instead, we might ask: Why not?
Maybe that’s enough.
We live in a world where caterpillars become butterflies. Where seeds disappear into soil and come up as daffodils – though not in Tenerife! Where dawn comes every single morning, no matter how dark the night has been.
We live in a world where love survives the worst things. Where people forgive. Where new life begins in hospital rooms and recovery meetings and apologies long overdue.
So why not resurrection?
Why not a love that death couldn’t stop? Why not a Saviour who knows your name and speaks it with tenderness? Why not hope?
Why not a world where the impossible becomes possible? Why not believe that broken things can be mended? Why not imagine that our worst failures aren’t the end of the story? Why not trust that God can make all things new—even the parts of us we’ve given up on?
Why not see miracles in small, ordinary things—in laughter after tears, in strength found when you thought you had none left, in a hand held when you feel alone?
Why not believe that love wins?
After all, resurrection is not just a happy ending—it is the re-creation of everything. It’s the decisive act of a God who refuses to let death have the final say. As Paul writes in 1 Corinthians 15, “If Christ has not been raised, your faith is futile… but Christ has indeed been raised from the dead.” The resurrection is not a metaphor—it’s a revolution. It’s God’s declaration that the brokenness of this world is not the end of the story.
The early Christians didn’t believe in the resurrection because it was easy. They believed it because they encountered the risen Christ—sometimes in locked rooms, sometimes on dusty roads, sometimes at breakfast on a beach. It changed everything. It gave them courage. It gave them hope. It made them bold enough to love in the face of hatred, to forgive in the face of violence, to live as though death had no sting.
There’s a story I read about a woman from a refugee camp. She had lost everything—home, family, even her own health. And yet, every morning, she would get up before the sun, take what little food she had, and make breakfast for the children in her part of the camp. People asked her, “How do you keep going?” And she would smile and say “Because I believe that love has not finished speaking. God has not stopped writing the story.” That’s resurrection.
And here’s another glimpse: during the dark days of apartheid in South Africa, Archbishop Desmond Tutu would often stand in the face of violence, injustice, and overwhelming oppression, and declare to the powers that be: “You may have the guns, you may have all the power, but you cannot win, because God is on the side of justice.” And then he would say, “We are resurrection people, and hallelujah is our song.”
In a world that had every reason to believe that darkness had won, he proclaimed light. In a system built to silence and crush, he spoke the language of Easter: defiant joy, stubborn hope, and a belief that death would not have the last word.
Why not live like that? Why not be resurrection people—not just at Easter, but every day?
Maybe you’re here this morning and you’re carrying some darkness of your own—grief, doubt, fear, disappointment. Maybe Easter feels like a story for other people, or something too fragile to hold onto. But what if it’s not?
What if Jesus still meets people in gardens of grief? What if he still calls us by name? What if resurrection is less about explanation and more about invitation? Mary didn’t understand it all. But she ran to tell the others: “I have seen the Lord. “Not “I have worked it all out.” Not “I can explain it.” Just: I have seen. Maybe that’s enough.
Maybe Easter is about opening our eyes to the possibility of new life. And trusting that even in the darkest places, God is already at work. Because if death doesn’t get the last word, then anything is possible.
So this morning, let’s ask the question that Easter dares us to ask: Why not?
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Please click this link to read previous sermons: https://allsaintstenerife.org/all-saints-midweek-letters/
Below are 2 photos showing items bought with the collection monies received from Carol service. Amount of money collected was €232 to which was added €32 from the Cruz Roja collecting tin. The toys will be distributed to children from poor … [Read More. . .] about Donation to the Red Cross
THE ANGLICAN CHURCH of All Saints in Parque Taoro, Puerto de la Cruz, is over 130 years old, making it the oldest Anglican church in Spain. Many visitors to Tenerife are surprised to find an English-style church here. This small enclave of the Church of … Read full article → about Our church… 130 years in the making
ALL SAINTS' CHURCH has responsibility for the upkeep of a walled cemetery in the town of Puerto de la Cruz. It is situated in the heart of Puerto de la Cruz, next to the headquarters of the National Police, in an area surrounded by hotels. Over many years, … Read full article → about The English Cemetery
THE CHURCH GARDENS are home to a very special memorial, a Rose Garden dedicated to the memory of the 146 passengers and crew who lost their lives when Dan Air charter flight 1008 inbound from Manchester to the Tenerife North airport of Los Rodeos crashed in … Read full article → about Memorial to Flight 1008
IN THE CHURCH grounds, to the rear and to the right of the church building itself, is a memorial garden, where the ashes of deceased members of the church congregation can be interred. This shaded and sheltered area provides a place of quiet contemplation … Read full article → about Garden of Remembrance
