Midweek Letters began as a resource during the Covid19 pandemic, when we were not allowed to hold public worship in the church. Our late Chaplain Fr Ron Corne wrote them, and his letters can be seen at this link: Fr Ron’s Midweek letters Below are letters written more recently by our current Chaplain, Reader, Congregational Worship Leader, locum priests and others.
Sermon 6th July 2025 – Isaiah 66.10-14
I wonder what you’d say if I asked you to describe the God of the Hebrew bible in 3 words? Today’s first reading offers us a vision of God which is perhaps a little different from what might first come to mind. Hidden in the final chapter of the book of Isaiah, there’s a lovely passage in which God offers an image of divine love and care that might surprise us. It is not the image of a mighty warrior, nor of a distant king on a throne, or someone sitting in judgement. No – here we have the image of a mother—gentle, nurturing, and comforting.
“As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you,” says the Lord. “Your heart shall rejoice; your bones shall flourish like the grass.” (Isaiah 66:13-14)
What a striking and tender picture that is. Especially in our world which so often feels harsh, uncertain, and exhausting. For those of us with tired bones—whether from age, worry, grief, or sheer busyness—these words from Isaiah fall like cool water on dry ground.
Throughout Scripture, God is described in many ways: Creator, Shepherd, King, Father. But here, at the very end of Isaiah’s great prophetic book, we are invited to see God as a nurturing mother. It’s a powerful image which is too easily overlooked.
For some, the image of God as a nurturing mother may feel fresh and unexpected. For others, it may touch something deep within—perhaps reminding us of our own mothers, or of the longing for the kind of love and care we wish we’d received. Whatever our personal experience, Isaiah draws our eyes to God’s capacity to love with the gentleness, patience, and intimate care of a mother tending her child. Alongside all that masculine imagery, here is another aspect of God.
This isn’t just sickly sentimentality. This image comes at the end of a long and often difficult prophetic journey. The people of Israel have known suffering, exile, disappointment. Their bones, quite literally and spiritually, have been weary. Their hearts have been heavy. Their dreams have felt crushed. Imagine being forced to leave the security of your country and live in a foreign land- a feeling that refugees know well, but most of us haven’t had to confront.And suddenly—God speaks of comfort. Of flourishing. Of joy.
Isaiah begins this passage with a call to rejoice: “Rejoice with Jerusalem and be glad for her… that you may nurse and be satisfied from her consoling breast.” It’s an invitation to find our peace, our belonging, our nurture, in the place where God dwells—in the community of God’s people, renewed and restored. Jerusalem, throughout the Hebrew Scriptures, represents more than just a city. It is a symbol of God’s home among the people, a place where justice and peace are meant to reign, where God’s presence is near.
Isaiah invites the people to imagine Jerusalem not as a war-torn city, but as a mother, embracing her children, providing nourishment, safety, and love. This maternal imagery is deliberate. It taps into something deeply human—the longing to be held, to be safe, to be known, to be comforted. Perhaps we all need something like this, especially when life leaves us feeling weary? I wonder today how many of us have tired bones—metaphorically speaking or maybe even quite literally!
The aches of life come in many forms. It may be physical illness or aging that wears us down. It may be the exhaustion of carrying burdens for others—a loved one’s illness, strained relationships, financial worries.Perhaps it is the heaviness of grief—the loss of someone we love, or the loss of dreams unfulfilled.
Or maybe it’s simply the quiet weariness that settles in after months or years of uncertainty, change, or worry. Our tired bones tell the story: life isn’t always easy. But Isaiah speaks God’s promise right into that weariness.“Your bones shall flourish like the grass.” Here’s another unexpected image. Dry, aching bones—suddenly flourishing, growing, renewed like the green grass after the rain. God does not ignore our weariness. God meets us in it—and offers the promise of comfort and new life.
But what does that comfort look like? Isaiah uses the imagery of a mother nursing her child—a picture of complete trust, care, and provision. God’s comfort is not just a polite pat on the back or a vague promise that things will get better. It is a deep, nurturing care that meets our needs, sustains us, and gives us strength for the journey.It reminds us of how Jesus spoke of his desire to gather the people of Jerusalem “as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings.” (Matthew 23:37)
It’s the same maternal heart of God—a longing to draw us close, to shelter us, to heal our wounds, to give us rest.But to receive that comfort, we have to allow ourselves to be held. It’s not easy. We live in a world which sets store on independence, self-sufficiency, and pushing through the pain. We’re often told to toughen up, keep going, hold it all together. But Isaiah invites us to something different.
He invites us to rest in God’s love, like a child resting in a mother’s arms. To admit our tiredness. To lay down our burdens. To trust that God’s comfort is real—and near. “As a mother comforts her child, so I will comfort you.” And as we receive that comfort, we are also called to share it. Paul writes in 2 Corinthians: “The God of all comfort… comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God.” (2 Corinthians 1:3-4)
We become agents of God’s nurturing love—offering a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, a word of encouragement, practical help to those around us. The world needs that maternal heart of God expressed through us—through communities that care. If your bones feel tired today, hear this promise: God is not distant or indifferent. God draws near as a mother to her child, offering comfort, nourishment, and the hope of new life. Our tired bones can flourish again. Our weary hearts can rejoice. Our lives, even in their fragility, can be caught up in the strong, gentle love of the God who comforts like a mother. May we rest in that love. May we share that love. And may we find our strength renewed.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon: SS Peter and Paul
Have you ever found yourself in a situation where you just couldn’t see a way out? Maybe it was a problem that felt impossible to solve. Or a door slammed shut in your life — a closed opportunity, a broken relationship, a worry that kept you stuck.
If so, you’re in good company. In our readings today, even the great apostle Peter — the “rock” on which Jesus promised to build his church — found himself literally chained up, locked behind doors, guarded by soldiers, and facing what looked like the end.
But with God, locked doors don’t stay locked. Chains don’t stay tight. The impossible doesn’t stay impossible.
In Acts chapter 12, as we heard, the early church is under pressure. King Herod has arrested some believers — James has already been executed, and it looks as though Peter will be next. We find Peter chained between guards, locked away in a cell. On the surface, it looks like a hopeless. Situation. But while Peter is sleeping, the church is praying — and God is moving.
In the middle of the night, an angel appears, the chains fall off, the doors swing open, and Peter walks free. It’s almost too good to believe. In fact, Peter himself thinks he’s dreaming! But it’s no dream. It’s a reminder: the God we worship is the God who opens doors.
Peter is the one Jesus called the “rock” in Matthew 16 — not because he was perfect, but because Jesus saw potential beneath the obvious flaws in his character. This is the same Peter who: sank when he tried to walk on water; denied Jesus three times; often spoke before thinking; invariably got things wrong. But Jesus didn’t give up on him. Instead, he said: “You are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church… I will give you the keys of the kingdom of heaven.”
Peter’s story both reminds and encourages us: God doesn’t wait for us to be flawless to use us to do his work. God uses ordinary, imperfect people — people like Peter, people like you and me — to do extraordinary things.
Today, we also remember Paul — so different from Peter: Paul was a scholar, Peter was a fisherman. Paul was a missionary to the Gentiles, Peter often focused on the first Jewish believers. They didn’t always agree — sometimes they even argued. Paul began life as a hater and persecutor of Christians until his dramatic encounter with the risen Jesus on the road to Damascus. And remember that apart from this encounter, Paul never met Jesus in the flesh, whereas Peter spent several years in close proximity to him.
This gives us a clear demonstration that God doesn’t need us all to be the same. He calls us with our differences and uses them together to build his church. Our recently appointed council is made up of people with very different experiences and backgrounds – and that is a strength.
Peter and Paul — flawed, fiery, passionate, bold — both played a part in opening the doors of faith to the world. And here’s the thing: God is still in the business of opening doors: doors out of despair and into hope; doors out of fear and into courage; doors out of feeling in a rut and into new possibilities. Just like Peter, sometimes those doors open when we least expect it — even when we feel shackled by our circumstances.
3 years ago, I spent a month in Johannesburg, as I was trying to discern my next move within the Church. I felt sure that away from family and friends, in a prayerful and different environment that God would speak into the silence and my path would become clear. I was somewhat disappointed to discover that the way forward seemed no clearer on my return than it had been when I set off. And then only a few weeks later, I was looking through the Church Times job ads when I came across a vacancy for a chaplain at All Saints’ Church Tenerife, and the rest as you know is history. When I look back on my life, I see this happening time and time again.
Maybe you’ve been praying for a door to open in your life — for guidance, for healing, for peace. The image of a door is central to the copy of the Holman Hunt painting which we have in our chancel. I don’t know if you have noticed, but the door has no handle and it can only be opened from the inside. Jesus isn’t forcing his way in – but rather is waiting for us to hear his message and admit him into our hearts and lives. His feet are turned sideways from the door, suggesting that he’s been standing there a long time and is about to go, or that time is running out.
Or maybe you feel unworthy. One of the threads that runs through the lives of both Peter and Paul is their unworthiness. If God were drawing up a list of ideal candidates to be pillars of the early Church, neither of these men would have made it. Peter, for all his enthusiasm, was impulsive and unreliable. This is the man who, when it really counted, denied even knowing Jesus — three times. And yet, Jesus sees not Peter’s failures, but his potential — or perhaps more importantly, Jesus sees what grace can do with a man like Peter.
Paul, meanwhile, starts out breathing threats against the followers of Jesus, hunting them down. He was probably present at the stoning of Stephen, first Christian martyr. And yet, God chooses him — the least likely, the most undeserving — to become the Apostle to the Gentiles, spreading the Gospel far and wide. And so, both Peter and Paul carry this deep awareness that they are not worthy — and yet, that is precisely the point. In the world, we often think we have to earn our place — in work, in relationships, even in church. We imagine that God uses only the qualified, the holy, the sorted. But the stories of Peter and Paul say otherwise.
Peter was a fisherman with a tendency to get it wrong. Paul was an academic with a dangerous past. Neither was ready, worthy, or perfect — but God called them anyway. And through them, the church was built, the Gospel was preached, lives were changed.
God still calls the unlikely, the unqualified, the unworthy — people like you and me. Our flaws, failures, and feelings of unworthiness are not obstacles for God — they are raw materials for His grace.
God still uses ordinary people. God still opens locked doors. And God still builds his church — not on perfection, but on faith. So today, let’s be people who: trust that no situation is beyond God’s power; let us remember that our past doesn’t disqualify us from God’s future; let us stay ready to walk through the doors God opens — with courage, with faith, and with love. The same God who set Peter free, the same God who called Paul to carry the Gospel, the same God who opened doors in the past Is still opening doors today.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon – The First Sunday after Trinity: Luke 8. 26-39
When I was about 15, in the days when you didn’t have to produce ID at every turn to access the adult world, I sneaked into the cinema with a friend to see ‘The Exorcist’, an X rated film deemed suitable only for those over 18. Needless to say, it was unsuitable for someone of that age, and I was frightened of the dark for a long time afterwards! To this day, I have no desire whatsoever to watch that film again.
When we think about somebody being possessed by a demon, we may be inclined to think of a situation such as that depicted in ‘The Exorcist’ or one of the many movies in a similar vein that have come out since then. However, demon-possessions of the Gospel age were not quite the same as those we are used to seeing in horror films nowadays. The author of Luke’s Gospel doesn’t make much distinction between a casting out of demons and a run of the mill healing, which suggests perhaps it was not the extreme paranormal event we see in these films. People of that time believed that demons caused physical and mental problems, but they did not usually see demons as morally evil. Reading our Gospel today, we might want to equate the Biblical version of demon possession with a diagnosis of mental illness. It would be all too easy to assume that this is what this story is about, and that those with mental health problems just need Jesus’ power to take their ‘demons’ away. I am sure most of us would agree that curing mental illness is not quite so simple, and therefore today’s passage doesn’t really lend itself to such an analogy.
What Jesus finds in the land of the Gerasenes is not someone with bipolar disorder or manic depression, but rather a man who has lost his identity, a man who has forgotten who he is, but who still has the power to change the world around him for the better. When we meet Jesus in this story, he has just told the disciples to sail to the other side of the sea of Galilee. It seems an unlikely place for a Jewish rabbi to go, being a land inhabited by Gentiles, which would therefore have been ritually unclean. As we already know, Jesus rarely observes these kinds of cultural or geographic boundaries. A storm has whipped up while he is asleep, and the disciples fear they will drown, until Jesus calms the storm. Jesus gives no explanation for wanting to go to this place, and the only thing he does here is heal the demon-possessed man. In this dramatic episode, the man seems perhaps to be expecting Jesus, as he shouts out, before Jesus has said anything ‘What do you want with me, Jesus, son of the most high God?’ Jesus for his part is aware of what is going on with this man and has perhaps made this journey to an unusual part of the country specifically to meet him.
There is a regular pattern for this kind of healing in the Bible, and this account is no exception. First, there is some kind of confrontation, then the calling of the demon’s name. At that time, to speak a person’s name was to exercise power over them. Finally, there is a shouting match before the demon can be called out and the formerly possessed person can recover. The demon starts by calling out Jesus’ name in an attempt to take power over him, but of course he has no power over Jesus. The man’s name is Legion, which suggests that he has been taken over by so many issues that he no longer has any identity. Jesus goes on to restore his identity, and to remind him that in spite of his past or present circumstances, he is a loved and important child of God, part of the plan for evangelism to the Gentiles at the very edge of Jesus’ world.
This is a story about the power of Jesus. The man in the tombs is completely bound by that which robs him of joy and health, that which isolates him from family and friends, that which draws him again and again toward self-destruction, and keeps him from experiencing the full, rich life for which he was born. I wonder if we can identify with this? Many of us have personal demons—those thoughts, habits, or experiences that separate us from our best selves and from those around us. These might be unhealthy attitudes, lingering guilt, patterns of addiction, or deep wounds that haven’t yet healed. Through the story of the Gerasene demoniac, we come to understand that Christ doesn’t just come to silence the chaos, but to restore our truest identity. And this healing isn’t a one-time miracle—it’s the ongoing work of grace. That’s why every service begins with confession and absolution: we come honestly before God, not to grovel in shame, but to be real about our brokenness and open ourselves to healing.
But the healing doesn’t stop with us. The liberation we see in this story also echoes out into the wider world—into our systems and societies. The demons that torment our culture may have different names: racism, homophobia, xenophobia, greed, violence. These are not just abstract evils; they are deeply rooted in the ways we live and the choices we make as communities and nations. We think with grief and horror of the recent school shooting in Austria—a stark reminder of the demons still loose in our world. Yet even here, the gospel dares to speak of hope. In our reading from Galatians, Paul reminds us that in Christ we are no longer divided by race, gender, class, or status. “There is no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” This is not just a theological statement—it is a radical vision for how we are called to live together.
So what does that mean for us today? It means that healing is possible—personally, yes, but also communally. It means that the church, as the body of Christ, is called to be a sign of that healing and unity in a fractured world. It means that when we clothe ourselves in Christ, we become people of compassion, people of justice, people who cross boundaries and build bridges. And perhaps most powerfully, like the man who was once tormented but was then restored, we are sent out to tell our own story. “Return to your home,” Jesus tells him, “and declare how much God has done for you.” That’s our calling too—not to hide our past or pretend we’ve never struggled, but to witness to the grace that meets us in the tombs and calls us into new life.
So may we go from here, not afraid of the dark places—either in ourselves or in our world—but confident that Christ meets us there. And may we, like the healed man, live our lives as a testimony to the mercy, the healing, and the boundless love of God.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon – Trinity Sunday 2025
Today is Trinity Sunday, and I’ll admit — it’s one of the harder Sundays to preach. The Trinity is one of those doctrines that is central to our faith and yet so difficult to explain. We’re talking about one God, in three persons: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit.
And there’s that famous quote: “If you try to explain the Trinity, you’ll lose your mind. But if you deny it, you’ll lose your soul.” Think about that for a moment!
There are many analogies people have used to try and explain it – the idea of a shamrock with 3 equal leaves, H20 in its different forms of solid, liquid and gas, even an equilateral triangle, and another example from maths that whilst 1+1+1=3, 1 x 1 x 1=1. I’m not sure how helpful these analogies are in the long run, as they only work up to point. They don’t really explain why we should care about a seemingly complicated doctrine which has been argued over and debated by theologians for centuries but perhaps makes the rest of us glaze over as we try to make sense of it.
But we’re not here to pass a theology exam. We’re here to encounter God. So rather than trying to solve the mystery of the Trinity, I want to invite you into it — to explore what it might mean for us to live in the light of this mystery.
Let’s start with something a little closer to home: the way we think.
From the time we’re children, we learn about the world through opposites. Hot and cold. Up and down. Yes and no. Boy and girl. Right and wrong. It helps us to make sense of things — at first.
But binary thinking — this habit of seeing things in opposites — can become a trap. Because it starts to divide people. It tells us: you’re either this or you’re that. In or out. Us or them.
It’s how we’ve often come to think about identity. I am this because I am not that. I’m British, not foreign. I’m male, not female. I’m straight, not gay. I’m normal, not weird. We learn who we are by who we are not. And quite soon we start putting people into boxes. Some we approve of. Some we fear. Some we avoid.
Binary thinking isn’t just a way of learning — it becomes a way of keeping score. A way of deciding who belongs and who doesn’t, who is in and who is out.
But then along comes the Trinity. And it changes everything.
The Trinity is not a simple pair. Not an either/or. It’s not just God in one form, then another. The Trinity is three in one — not three gods, not one God with three hats, but one God who is, in essence, relationship. God the Father. God the Son. God the Holy Spirit. Three persons, each distinct, each fully God, and each in complete unity with the others. A divine community of love, mutuality, and joy.
What’s more – we are invited into that relationship. Not just to admire it. Not just to learn about it. But to participate in it.
Jesus says in John 16, “The Spirit will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine.” This is not a power struggle. This is mutual giving, mutual revealing, mutual love, one pointing to the other, one glorifying the other.
It’s as though the life of God is a kind of dance — each person of the Trinity moving in harmony with the others, lifting each other up, never pulling rank, never acting alone.
And it’s into this kind of life that we are baptised. This is what Jesus meant when he said, “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptising them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.” It’s not just a formula. It’s an invitation into relationship.
Our reading from Proverbs 8 takes us further into the mystery. Here, Wisdom is personified as a voice — a voice crying out in the streets:
“To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live.”
This is not hidden knowledge. It’s not reserved for the spiritual elite. It’s for all that live.
And listen to how Wisdom describes herself: “The Lord created me at the beginning of his work… I was beside him, like a master worker; and I was daily his delight.”
In Christian tradition, this has often been understood as a description of Christ — the eternal Word who was with God at the beginning. But notice something else: Wisdom is feminine.
In Hebrew, the word for wisdom — Chokmah — is grammatically feminine. In Greek, Sophia. Even the Spirit of God, in Hebrew — Ruach — is a feminine word.
Now, of course, God is beyond gender. God is not male or female. But that hasn’t stopped us from talking about God as though God were always a man. The word “Father” has sometimes been confused with the idea that God is male. But the Trinity disrupts that too.
Because the Trinity includes Father and Son but also Spirit and Wisdom. And these are not “male” or “female” roles. They are persons in relationship. And they show us a God who includes both the strong and the tender, the protective and the nurturing, the commanding and the comforting.
The Trinity is not a boys’ club. It’s not a power hierarchy. It’s a relationship of mutual love, and we need all the images — masculine and feminine, personal and communal — to even begin to glimpse the fullness of God.
Here’s something else the Trinity tells us: God is not abstract. God is not a detached observer in the sky. The Trinity is not just a puzzle for theologians — it’s the story of salvation.
The Father sends the Son, and the Son goes all the way to the cross. The Spirit is poured out on the disciples, and the church is born. This is not a cold doctrine — it’s a story of love that hurts, love that sacrifices, love that heals.
As one writer put it: “The Trinity bleeds.” It bleeds with the pain of a crucified Christ. It breathes with the wind of Pentecost. It shines with the glory of a God who so loved the world that he gave himself — not just once, but always — in relationship.
So what does all this mean for us? It means that we don’t have to live in binaries. We don’t have to define ourselves by what we are not. We are defined by whose we are.
We belong to a God who is love, who is relationship, who is community.
We are not invited into isolation, or fear, or rivalry. We are invited into communion. Into interdependence. Into the kind of life where each one lifts up the other — like the Father glorifies the Son, and the Spirit glorifies the Son, and the Son glorifies the Father.
That’s what church is supposed to look like. Not a group of people trying to prove who’s right or who’s worthy, but a community of love, giving and receiving, building each other up. The world needs this more than ever in these challenging times : people who can move beyond the binaries, beyond the dividing lines, into something deeper and more real — into the life of God.
So today, on Trinity Sunday, we don’t have to explain the Trinity. We just need to enter in it. To be drawn into that divine dance — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — where love is shared, and truth is revealed, and all things are made new.
Let us step into the mystery. Let us be held by the love that holds the universe together.
And may that love, that relational, generous, self-giving love — be what defines us too.
Amen.
Sermon : summary of the Away Day
In today’s Gospel, Jesus calls us friends. Not servants. Not just followers. Friends. “I chose you,” He says, “and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last.”
This is a friendship with direction. A calling. A shared mission.
It prompts us to ask: What fruit is God calling us to bear next? How can we love one another, not just in word, but in the way we serve and shape our life together?
Jesus’ words remind us that the church is not just an institution—it’s a community of people, called and chosen to love and bear fruit. And it so happens a small group of us gathered last Tuesday to spend some time considering how we could do that.
Sometimes, to see things clearly, you have to step back. And sometimes, to hear God’s voice, you have to step away from the noise.
It wasn’t just another meeting. It wasn’t just a few of us making decisions. It was a time to pause, to reflect, and to pray together as a community.
In the Gospels, Jesus often withdrew to quiet places—to the hills, to the lake, to the wilderness. Not because he was avoiding people, but because he knew that clarity, renewal, and guidance often come when we make space for God to speak.
Our away day gave us a chance to do just that: to listen, to dream, and to discern where the Spirit is leading us as a church. We were able to be honest about what’s going well, what’s challenging, and where we might be called next. The Spirit speaks through the whole body of Christ. Because this is not just about “doing church”—it’s about being church, together. And when we come together in this way, it becomes more than the sum of its parts. Something happens when we share ideas, hopes, and dreams—especially when we do so with open hearts and ears for the breath of the Spirit.
There is still more reflection and analysis to be done on our work on Tuesday. But I would like to share with you a summary of the hopes and dreams that emerged at the end of the day.
It’s big. It’s bold. And as I’ve said before, I’m ambitious for this place—not for the sake of growth alone, but because I believe God is calling us to something life-giving and Spirit-filled here.
Here is the vision that came out of our dreaming—written as a newspaper article from 2026:
“Namaste: All Saints Sees God in Everyone — A Truly Inclusive Church
May 2026 – In the heart of the community, All Saints Church has blossomed into a vibrant hub of inclusion, spirituality, and social action, living out its guiding belief: that God is in everyone.
“All Saints feels like a tapestry,” says one regular. “Each of us brings a thread — our stories, our talents, our struggles — and God is weaving them into something beautiful.”
Over the past year, All Saints has embraced a bold vision: to be more than a place of worship, but a sanctuary of welcome, healing, and connection. By using inclusive language and celebrating the diverse gifts of all people, the church has become a safe and sacred space for those who have long felt they didn’t belong in church — LGBTQ+ individuals, people of different cultures and faith backgrounds, and those who have been told they are not loved by God. Here, they are told the truth: they are beloved, they are wanted, and they are needed.
Recognising that many hunger not just for religion, but for deep spiritual experience, All Saints has begun transforming two small cottages on its grounds into retreat spaces — quiet places for rest, reflection, and spiritual renewal. These retreats will open later this year and aim to serve both locals and visitors seeking a pause from the noise of life.
But this transformation hasn’t just been spiritual — it’s been practical and environmental too. All Saints is now an award-winning Eco Church, having made major strides in sustainability: installing solar panels, eliminating single-use plastics, and redesigning the church’s outdoor area into a welcoming, green space for both prayer and play.
The church has also opened up its bar and social areas for community events — from young people’s discos and parent-and-toddler mornings to shared meals, cinema nights, and support circles. Rentals of the hall and courtyard help fund this outreach, ensuring the space works for everyone. “We’ve realised we have space — physical space and spiritual space — and we want to fill it with people, life, and hope,” says the vicar. “This church isn’t just for Sunday mornings. It’s for the whole community, every day of the week.”
As All Saints moves forward, its dream is clear: to keep weaving God’s love into the fabric of the town, one thread at a time.”
As I said earlier, it’s a big, bold vision. And if any part of that vision stirred something in you—if you thought, “I’d love to be part of that,”—then let me encourage you: there is a place for you in it.
Bearing fruit together doesn’t mean doing everyone doing everything. But it does mean each person offering something. A little time. A listening ear. A helping hand. An idea. A prayer. A willingness to be part of something bigger than ourselves. We are truly blessed in this place with a wonderful building and grounds, and we owe it to the people who had the vision in the first place to build this church to make it a place fit for the 21st century.
Jesus calls us friends and appoints us to bear fruit—not alone, but as a community rooted in love.
So if you feel able to offer a bit more—whether that’s helping occasionally with a group, lending your skills to a project, or simply being willing to explore where you might fit—please speak to me or one of the Wardens.
Because this isn’t my vision, or the Council’s vision—it’s our vision. A vision rooted in Christ’s love and grown through our friendship with him and one another.
Let’s keep walking that road together. Amen.
Sermon for the Sixth Sunday of Easter : John 14:23–29 — Shalom
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you.”
Sharing the Peace with one another is a key moment in every Anglican service. It has been part of Christian worship since the earliest days of the Church. Though lost for many centuries, it was thankfully reintroduced in the 1970s. For some, it may still seem like a puzzling ritual—but today’s Gospel gives us the opportunity to explore what it means, and why we do it.
At the heart of our humanity, we are all similar—and yet each of us is uniquely made. We live in community, but in communities marked by diversity. Our community here in Tenerife is no exception.
You may recall the words of the prophet Isaiah, who envisaged a day when the wolf and the lamb would lie down together—a reading we often hear in our Christmas lectionary. That vision of Shalom—a world of peace and wholeness—could hardly be expressed more beautifully. Like the prophet, we are called to imagine and work toward a more peaceful world—and perhaps a more peaceful Church—than the one we know today. I am aware of the irony of saying this, given what is happening in Gaza. But it must be said: Zionism and Judaism are not the same thing.
In a similar spirit, Jesus once said we should make peace with our sisters and brothers before bringing our offerings to God. Sharing the Peace is not just a social moment—it is central to our worship. It helps us to renew and affirm the peace between us before we come to the altar for the Eucharist. That’s why the Peace is placed just before the Eucharistic Prayer: to prepare our hearts and our consciences to meet Christ in the sacrament.
But there is more to this than meets the eye. The idea of Shalom—very likely the word Jesus would have used in his native Aramaic or Hebrew—carries a deeper meaning than our English word “peace.” In modern terms, and at one level, peace often means the absence of conflict or war. But in the Hebrew Bible, Shalom means far more. More than just an absence of war, Shalom points to something better in its place.
For instance, a stone that is perfectly shaped, with no cracks, is said to be in Shalom. A completed wall with no gaps or missing bricks is Shalom. A flock with no animals missing, or a household where all is in good order—these are biblical images of Shalom. It can mean something complex with many pieces which is in a state of wholeness or completeness.
There are many examples from the Hebrew bible which illustrate the deeper meaning of Shalom. Job said his tents were in a state of Shalom because none of his animals were missing. When David visited his brothers on the battlefield, he asked about their Shalom—not just their safety, but their well-being.
Life is complex. It is full of moving parts—relationships, responsibilities, emotions, and systems. When one part is out of alignment or missing, Shalom breaks down and needs to be restore. To restore it means not just to fix what is wrong, but to make the whole complete again.
Used as a verb, Shalom means to restore or make complete. If your animal damages a neighbour’s field, you shalom them by giving them a complete repayment for their loss; you take what’s missing and restore it to wholeness. Solomon brought Shalom to the temple by completing it. This is equally true in the bible when it comes to relationships. In the book of Proverbs, to reconcile and heal a broken relationship is to bring Shalom.
In the biblical world, when rival kingdoms made Shalom, it wasn’t just that they stopped fighting—it meant they began working together for mutual benefit. This was the high calling of Israel’s kings: to cultivate Shalom. Sadly, it was rarely achieved.
Isaiah dreamed of a Prince of Shalom, whose reign would never end. A time when God would make a covenant of Shalom with God’s people and heal all that was broken.
In the New Testament, though written in Greek, the writers used the word eirēnē—the Greek equivalent of Shalom. The New Testament writers clearly had this deeper, fuller meaning of Shalom in mind.
When Jesus says, “Peace I leave with you,” he is offering more than calm or the absence of war. He is offering wholeness. He came as the Prince of Shalom, restoring what was broken between humanity and God through his death and resurrection. St. Paul writes, “He is our peace.” As followers of Christ, we are called to be peacemakers too.
Paul urges the early churches to “maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” This requires patience, humility, and love. True peace takes effort. It means restoring relationships, healing brokenness—in ourselves, in our communities, and in our world.
So today, when we share the Peace—and every time we do—may we do so with a deeper awareness. It’s not just a handshake or a polite nod. It’s a sign that we are striving to live in the way of Christ. A sign that we want to be reconciled, to be whole, to bring Shalom. In a nutshell, it’s about human flourishing and wholeness.
We live in uncertain times. Powerful forces try to divide us, stir up fear, and build walls between people. They promote the falsehood that some lives are worth less than others. But God’s story is different. We are all made in the image of God. Each one of us is of infinite value, irrespective of who we are.
And in a world such as this, the message and mission of Shalom is not just important — it is essential.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Reflection for Wednesday 21st May 2025 – 1 Peter 2 v1-10
Peter is writing to Christians in Asia Minor (modern Turkey)—new Christians—predominately Gentile Christians. They have been experiencing trials, so he is encouraging them by reminding them of their prospects for glory and salvation.
We often need encouragement. We need it in our jobs. In our families. In our friendships. And we especially need it in our Christian life. Living as faithful witnesses for Christ in a world that does not recognize Him can often lead to suffering and adversity. It is in those times that we most need encouragement from our Christian brothers and sisters.
This was especially true for the earliest Christians. As a small community of faith spread throughout a Roman Empire that viewed them with suspicion and hostility, the earliest Christians often lived on messages of hope and encouragement. This is the context in which today’s text was written. First Peter was written as a circular letter by the Apostle Peter to several churches located in Asia Minor; modern-day Turkey. These early Christian communities were experiencing suffering, almost certainly in relation to their faithful witness to Christ. And so Peter sought to bolster their faith.
Part of being this people of God meant growing in one’s salvation in the midst of suffering; indeed, even through suffering on behalf of Christ. Just as infants need milk in order to grow and develop well, so Christians need spiritual food that is fundamental for spiritual growth and endurance; especially in the midst of hostile environments.
I am minded of a tale told in Wales of a group of American Tourists in a small Welsh village who asked an elderly man ‘ were and great men born in this village’ the elderly resident pondered for a few moments then replied ‘only babies have been born here’.
But there is an additional reason that Peter encourages the early Christian churches toward increased growth and endurance in this letter. As Peter sees it, the churches he writes to are not simply outposts of Christ’s Kingdom in the ancient Roman world, though they are certainly that. As we are an outpost of the Diocese in Europe; Rather, it is because they, as the Church, are being built into the temple of God.
Peter speaks of “living stones” here. Now these aren’t simply rocks you find on the ground. They are cut stones, hewn to precise dimensions for the construction of a building. First, Peter speaks of Christ as the Living Stone. He talks about how Christ as the Living Stone was rejected by humans. In this way, Peter recalls Christ’s own unjust trial before the religious and governmental elite. The human “powers that be” rejected this Stone. But their verdict was not the last word. For Christ was chosen by God and is precious to Him. The supreme irony of this is that Christ is the preeminent foundation stone and the human powers that claim supreme authority for themselves not only failed to see this; they also had their verdict overturned by the Creator God.
Here though, Peter reminds the early Christians that they as the Church are now all part of a holy priesthood. It is because Christ as the once-for-all atoning sacrifice is the Mediator between God and humanity, that those who are in Christ can offer spiritual sacrifices of praise and thanksgiving. In other words, the Church, empowered by Christ and the Holy Spirit, has the same kind of close (if not closer) access to God that the priests of ancient Israel did.
Again though, as Peter reminds them (and us), this is only possible at all because of Christ. Peter quotes the prophet Isaiah again, saying that God Himself has “laid a stone in Zion, a chosen and precious cornerstone.” This “stone in Zion” is of course Jesus. Christ as the “Living Stone” was spoken of by the Hebrew prophets centuries ago. As such, the Church’s foundation finds its roots deep in the history of God and his people.
Peter is not only giving these churches hope, he is also giving them a history.
The imagery is important here. It demonstrates just how counterintuitive the Christian gospel was in the ancient world. A crucified Messiah? A king that the Romans killed? How could this be?! The early Christians were viewed not only as treasonous (for they refused to worship the emperor and the gods that upheld the empire) but also as irrational because of this gospel.
But again, the theme of supreme irony is in play here. To the larger Roman world that valued honour and power above all else, the proclamation of the Crucified Lord appeared foolish and scandalous. In reality though, the way of the Crucified Lord is the supreme rationality of God Himself.
Far from being irrational, the proclamation of Christ crucified and risen displays the very logic of God’s reality. The highest goods are not honour and power for oneself. For God the Son willingly took on flesh and, in the words of Peter’s fellow Apostle, Paul: “humbled Himself by becoming obedient to death— even death on a cross!”
Peter’s encouragement to them, and to us, is that of resurrection-shaped hope. Peter’s encouragement speaks through the centuries to us as Christians today. When we are experiencing suffering as a result of our faithful witness to Christ, we hear Peter’s words. We are anchored to God’s Chosen and Precious Cornerstone, Christ Himself, who upholds us in our times of trial. We are reminded of the fact that we as the Church are “living stones” built up by God upon Christ’s foundation.
Peter’s words speak just as powerfully today as they did to their first recipients. For though the Cornerstone was rejected by humans, He has been chosen and raised by God. On this our hope is grounded. Amen
Peter Lockyer
Reader All Saints Church
Sermon for the Fourth Sunday of Easter – The raising of Tabitha/Dorcas – Acts 9 – 36 onwards
We heard earlier in our reading from Acts of the Apostles, the extraordinary tale of Tabitha aka Dorcas. We don’t know very much about her. However, she is highly significant because Tabitha is also one of only 4 people in the New Testament who are brought back to life after they have died. The other 3 are, as you will remember, Jairus’ daughter, Lazarus and of course, Jesus. In addition, she is the ONLY woman in the entire New Testament referred to using the feminine form for disciple in Greek. “There was a disciple whose name was Tabitha. That’s quite interesting in itself, so I feel that her story is worth paying some attention to.
So – what do we know about Tabitha? Well, we know that she was devoted to good works and acts of charity, that she was popular and much mourned after she died, and that she made tunics and other items of clothing for the needy. Her name means ‘gazelle’ in both Aramaic and Greek, and perhaps the fact that both names are mentioned in the account in Acts might suggest that her background is mixed, perhaps straddling the cultural line between Judaism and the wider Greco-Roman world. It doesn’t explicitly say in the passage, but we might assume that she was a woman of some means because after her death, her body is placed in an ‘upper room’: if this is in her own house, it suggests it was a large one. Whatever the situation, this woman faithfully devoted her life to lightening the load for poor widows – perhaps at the expense of her own health and well-being. As we know, widows were on the very bottom rung of the social ladder in 1st century Palestine and without a man to provide for their material needs, could have been in a tricky situation indeed.
This popular and caring woman dies, and the community around her immediately send for Peter, who is in a nearby town. One wonders what they were expecting him to do or what indeed was their purpose in asking him to come. Did they want to share the story of caring for the poor which this special woman undertook so generously? Did they perhaps want to share the memory of their dear friend with Peter as leader of the growing church? Or did they perhaps hope for the miracle beyond miracles – a reprieve from death?
As we heard, against all odds, Peter brings Tabitha back to life in a narrative which recalls very closely that of Jesus raising Jairus’ daughter. The miracle happens behind closed doors, and Peter tells the woman to ‘get up’ after he has prayed. Peter performs this miracle not through his own power -it’s not some kind of magic trick – but through his claim on God’s resurrection power. It’s undeniably an act of supreme confidence. But then Peter has seen the crucified Jesus alive very recently so no wonder he is feeling confident!
God does of course heal the sick whether by medicine or miracle; but we also know that many such prayers often seem to be unanswered, and the healing we so earnestly pray for does not come. I’m sure most of us will be familiar with this experience. How do we react at such times? Do we just shrug it off, supposing that our prayers have not worked, once again? Does it put us off praying because we think perhaps that God isn’t listening?
But prayer isn’t like waving a magic wand. It’s not about bargaining with God or wanting to direct everything to suit our own purposes and not admitting of any other plan than what we want. We can pray for the wrong reasons too. Throughout history we’ve seen kings and leaders claiming God is on their side: even in our present day we have heard President Putin, seemingly backed by the Russian orthodox church proclaiming the very same thing. And President Trump makes some similar claims. Do we in our own smaller ways fall into the trap of being so wrapped up in what we want that we can’t see further than our own needs?
It’s especially hard though isn’t it, when we pray sincerely for something which does correspond to the kingdom of God such as healing for a sick child or a friend or family member, and it doesn’t come. To understand this, perhaps we can look to the gospels. We hear of a multitude of people with ailments of all descriptions, yet only a fraction of them are healed of their illnesses. If we go back to the story of Jairus’ daughter, the girl is ill and her father is in a hurry for Jesus to come and help. He accepts but is delayed on the way to heal another person and by the time he arrives, the girl is dead. It seems like it’s all over, but as we remember, Jesus brings her back from the sleep of death.
As we heard only a few weeks ago, Jesus prays in the garden of Gethsemane, asking that the cup of suffering and crucifixion should pass from him, but it seems as though the Father isn’t listening. Jesus must suffer and die first, there’s no way out of this; but Holy Saturday is not the last chapter, the Resurrection surely comes on the third day. As Pope Francis said not long ago: “Evil is never lord of the last day, but the penultimate day, the moment when the night is darkest, just before dawn.”
What then can we learn from the story of Tabitha? It is an extraordinary story and perhaps feels less well known than it should be. She was certainly someone of importance, a woman who made a difference to those around her, living out her faith in a very tangible way. She was known as a disciple. When you consider the nature of relations between men and women at this time, and how unequal they were, Tabitha is yet another example of how in the community that grew around Jesus in the early Church no-one is staying in her or in his place.
We can reflect on the nature of prayer – particularly when our prayers seem to be unanswered. It’s not that we haven’t prayed hard enough or anything like that. Perhaps it would be good to remember the words from the Lord’s prayer “thy will be done” not our will. We need to ask continually for God’s help to look through a wider angle of vision to see other consequences of things that happen around us. We don’t have the full picture, and we trust and hope that God does. God’s time is not our time.
And lastly, as we’ve been hearing throughout this Easter season, death does not have the last word, even though it looks as though it might with Tabitha, Lazarus, Jairus’ daughter and Jesus. Many believed and joined the community of faith, not because they saw a miraculous act in Joppa that day, but because of the bigger picture of what this might mean for them and for the world. If death is no longer a barrier between us, dare we hope that all the ills that plague us, our families and our communities, might be healed by a God that cares deeply for us? Those of us who have experienced the power of illness and the bitterness of loss should never lose sight of this dazzling miracle. We know that eternal life is the new order of the day and that no obstacle can separate us from one another ever again.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon for The Third Sunday of Easter – John 21: 1-19
A few years ago, I attended a film evening at church, which featured videos from an organisation called the Forgiveness project. They were powerful stories of ‘extreme forgiveness’ and the healing and wholeness it can bring. Many of them have stayed with me. I’d like to share one with you this morning.
28 -year- old trainee paramedic, James Hodgkinson, was killed in 2011 from a single punch to his head. He’d been out in Nottingham with his father, brother and 3 friends after watching a cricket match. His attacker, Jacob Dunne, aged 19, had drunkenly punched James. The punch caused a bleed on James’ brain and he died 10 days later. Jacob pleaded guilty and served just 13 months in prison for manslaughter. Later, James’ mother, Joan Scourfield, met Jacob through restorative justice. Initially, Joan was angry and bitter at the shortness of Jacob’s sentence; she questioned whether her son’s life was only worth 13 months. And it just compounded the pain of her loss.
However, through a charity called Remedi, Joan eventually got in touch with Jacob, her son’s murderer, to find out about him. She discovered that his early life had been far from easy, that he’d been excluded from several schools as a teenager and left with no qualifications and few prospects. He hadn’t taken the opportunity to improve his situation whilst in prison and had been released with nowhere to stay. He was facing a bleak future.
It took quite a few years and some difficult mediation on both sides before Joan and Jacob did finally meet in person. On first seeing Jacob, Joan was struck by the fact that he looked different from the police mugshot she’d seen, and in her own words, he looked “like a young man, not a monster”. They talked about what happened the night James was killed and Joan comments “I left the room that day feeling a little bit lighter, hopeful that Jacob would turn his life around”. When Jacob heard that Joan wanted to meet him, he was very surprised, and it spurred him on to try to change his life: he took some GCSEs and an Access course and finally won a place at university. He has now completed his degree, has a good job and a wife and family. It could of course have gone very differently for him after prison. Joan finishes the story; “It’s taken a long time to feel comfortable with the word forgiveness. I used to feel that if I forgive Jacob, it meant I’d forgotten James…. But now I realise that forgiveness for me means being at peace, letting go of the bitterness and letting Jacob into my life.”
There’s a lot going on in the passage from John’s gospel which we just heard, but one thread of the story is about forgiveness. Many scholars believe chapter 21 was written after the preceding chapters as a kind of epilogue, an attempt to tie up some loose ends. The last section of the reading we heard focuses on a conversation with Peter which is a deliberate echo of Peter’s 3-fold denial and similarly takes place around a charcoal fire – so the writer of this gospel intends us to connect the two scenes. In the first, Peter is sitting at a charcoal fire after Jesus’ arrest, and as we know, denies 3 times that he even knows Jesus. In this post-resurrection scene, Jesus is sitting at a charcoal fire, and he asks Peter 3 times if he loves him. It’s an encounter which is deeply emotional, full of grace and gives us a blueprint for how forgiveness works – not just as a gift, but as a foundation for mission and renewed purpose.
Jesus doesn’t simply forgive Peter. His repeated questions are not about shaming him but rather healing him. And not only that, but Peter also isn’t just back on the team, he’s entrusted with leadership. Jesus says : “Feed my sheep”. This is a powerful and hopeful message, especially for those of us who carry regrets or feel disqualified by past mistakes. The uniqueness of God’s forgiveness as demonstrated by Jesus in this passage is that it’s not just about wiping the slate clean, but it’s about reclaiming our story. Our worst failures don’t disqualify us – rather they can become the foundation for new purpose.
Peter had made big promises, but when it mattered, he denied even knowing Jesus! Imagine the weight of that failure – public, repeated and no doubt bitterly remembered. Many of us carry something like that perhaps – a moment we wish we could undo. A time when we let someone down or let God down. But here’s the point: failure doesn’t have the final word in the kingdom of God. Jesus doesn’t lecture Peter or demand apologies. Instead, he provides a path to restoration – one “yes” for every “no” he had spoken. The charcoal fire is not for betrayal this time, but redemption. Jesus invites Peter to confront the wound, rather than avoid it. As with the story of Joan and Jacob from the Forgiveness Project, forgiveness isn’t about pretending something didn’t happen. It’s about Jesus meeting us where it happened – and rewriting the story.
Peter’s greatest failure therefore becomes the stage for his greatest calling. He goes on to lead the Church, to preach at Pentecost and write letters which we still read today. We come to understand that God is not done with us when we mess up – often it can be the beginning of something deeper. Past failures may be the fertile ground God uses to grow our future vocation. To those who feel disqualified or unworthy, Jesus still says “Do you love me? Then follow me.” Forgiveness isn’t just about feeling better – it’s about getting back in the water again and following Jesus, perhaps with more humility, more compassion and more strength than before.
I’ll leave you with a thought about the Japanese art of kintsugi. If a pottery object gets broken, rather than discarding it, pieces are put back together painstakingly over months. Instead of trying to hide the damage, the cracks are highlighted in precious metals such as gold, silver and platinum. And so the cracks become part of the beauty and the strength of the piece. Kintsugi teaches us that in life even adversity can be turned into something that is beautiful and resilient. Over time, we can heal from our wounds, embrace our imperfections and become stronger. It reminds us that despite failure, God gives us a way to reframe and find meaning in life. In Christ, our scars are not signs of failure, but marks of redemption.
And of course, as we are forgiven, so in turn we must forgive, it works both ways. It’s not easy, there’s no cheap grace on offer here. It’s something which takes time, involves a huge journey and a willingness to try. By letting go of bitterness, anger and resentment, even if it takes years, we can prevent what someone did to us dominating and colouring the rest of our life. This is what grace means; when we forgive as we have been forgiven, we experience the joy of the grace and mercy that has been extended to us in such deep measure.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Second Sunday of Easter – 27th April 2025
In this week when we commemorate those who were killed in the horrific Dan Air disaster in the Forest of Esperanza on this Island, we heard with great sadness of the passing of Pope Francis. A tireless advocate for peace and a great spiritual leader.
The Head of our church King Charles, who was one of the last high profile figures to meet with him, said ‘he profoundly touched the lives of so many’ and The Spanish King also added his words of praise that Pope Francis left a profound legacy with its commitment to the most vulnerable in our societies.
Our Archbishop said ‘We saw that compellingly in Francis’s service of the poor, his love of neighbour especially the displaced, migrant, the asylum seeker, also his deep compassion for the well-being of the earth and his desire to lead and build the church in new ways.
Pope Francis in his last address ended with the words:- I leave you with this … There is no peace without freedom of religion, thought and expression.
I leave you with this …
These are five words that every stand-up comedian and I venture to say preacher, needs to know.
Five words that are guaranteed to grab people’s attention.
The words that also concluded Mother Fiona’s address last week.
Five words that need to be used wisely: ‘I’ll leave you with this.’
These words cue the hearer in for the big finish, the grand finale, the cherry on the cake. They create a chance to leave a lasting impression and go out with a bang.
In today’s Gospel we heard what happened on the day of resurrection. Jesus is grabbing attention one final time with a line that packs a punch.
After Mary encounters the risen Jesus in the garden, the disciples are gathered in a room. The whole faith community is there, the women and men (apart from Thomas, as we find later).
Perhaps huddled together exchanging stories of Jesus while harbouring a queasy sick feeling about it all and sharing emotions – sorrow, fear.
The doors are locked, we are told, for fear of the religious authorities.
But what have they really got to hold on to?
Two of their number have seen some folded linen in an empty tomb and one of them has embraced a man in a garden who claimed to be Jesus.
The evidence is anecdotal and flimsy. Yet there is something compelling about the way the witnesses share what they have seen. Behind locked doors, this community stares at the walls trying to make sense of it all. Then, in an almost theatrical moment, Jesus came and stood among them.
The disciples’ fear dissolves as they recognize him.
After they see his hands and his side….
I feel they are overjoyed.
Here is Jesus with a captive audience, nearly all the nascent church, I think, and he has their full attention.
He could say anything at this point.
(I would be tempted to go for something along the lines of ‘I told you so’.)
However, for his big finish, his ‘I’ll leave you with this’, Jesus says,
‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you.’
Then ‘he breathed on them As we often see when a Bishop breathes over when The Holy Oils are consecrated, and said to them, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” ‘
Jesus, undeterred by crucifixion, unhindered by death and unobstructed by locked doors, could conceivably offer just about anything at this point.
His parting gift however is peace and the life-giving breath of the Spirit.
The disciples, I feel, may have had a sense of déjà vu.
Earlier in John’s Gospel, Jesus had promised the coming of the Spirit, offering a peace different from that offered by the world.
Bearing the wounds, the drama of this appearance demonstrates the uniqueness of Jesus’ offer.
The risen Jesus bears the wounds of crucifixion.
Only with the marks of suffering can he be recognized as the Jesus they know. Only with the visible signs of trauma in his body can he reach them in the flesh.
What he offers is not respite but resolution that has come at a cost, which cannot be erased or crushed.
The peace Jesus offers is totally unlike the types of peace the world offers. It is unlike the famous Pax Romana where peace was won through domination and sustained by subjugation.
It is unlike the fragile compromised peace brokered, we read about, by Jewish leaders under Roman rule making them anxious of the inconvenient truth.
Or even I daresay, the fragile peace deals negotiated by leaders in our time. The peace Jesus offers is not the kind of peace that takes no prisoners, nor the kind of peace offered in exchange for retreat, nor the kind of peace that means being squeezed into a corner, staying in your lane on a motorway, or even silencing the cries for justice.
It is a peace won through love, submission to God’s will, and non-violence.
It is a peace resting on humility, service and taking the lowest place.
It is a peace that blows off the cobwebs, sweeps nothing under the carpet, and speaks in the flesh to those who are afraid and troubled.
When the world’s peace ebbs, Jesus’ peace flows. Whilst the world’s peace is changeable, Jesus’ peace is world-changing.
When the world’s peace suffocates, Jesus’ peace is breath itself.
Sharing this peace, as we will do later. The peace Jesus gives comes to those who ultimately recognize him as ‘Lord’.
As his Spirit-fills people, they become the bearers and carriers of his peace. The community are to take the lead as his witnesses.
How Jesus’ followers share his peace and wield his peace through the forgiveness of sins will be crucial.
It is as though Jesus is saying, ‘I’ll leave you with this.’
Later, Thomas arrives and we can imagine him saying,
‘So, did I miss anything?’
In the famous exchange that follows later, Jesus begins by offering his peace– a peace that comes through his presence, that flourishes by the breath of the Spirit, and which includes those who are not even in the room. Then invites Thomas (Now often known as ‘Doubting Thomas’) to extend his hand and feel Jesus’s wounds.
This is the risen Jesus we celebrate in the Easter season. He doesn’t say, ‘I’ll leave you be.’ He doesn’t say, ‘I’ll leave you to it.’
He says, ‘I’ll leave you with this.’
The peace of God which passes all understanding.
Amen
Peter Lockyer
Reader
Sermon Easter Day 2025
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
Sermon 6th April – John 12. 1-8
Have you ever found that a particular scent or aroma and can transport you back to a place, a mood or a feeling, or remind you of a person? I’m thinking of for example the smell of a roast dinner, which immediately takes me back to childhood. The sense of smell is deeply tied to our emotions because it has a direct pathway to the brain’s limbic system which controls feelings, memories and even physiological responses. Unlike other senses, which pass through the thalamus before reaching the higher brain centres, scent signals travel straight to the olfactory bulb and then to areas like the amygdala and hippocampus- areas which are responsible for processing emotions and memories.
This is not a biology lesson, you’ll be pleased to know. But it does relate to our gospel reading. During a dinner at the house of Mary, Martha and Lazarus, Mary takes a costly jar of oil and anoints Jesus’ feet with it. This is an act which is more than extravagant. The cost of a jar of such perfume is valued at a whole year’s income for a manual labourer.
Mediterranean culture dictated that servants or women should wash guests before a dinner. However, it was taboo at that time and place for a man to be touched by a woman, even more to allow her loose hair to touch a man’s feet in order to wipe off the excess oil she has so extravagantly poured over them. If you visit Golders Green in London today, you will see many Orthodox Jewish women still cover their hair in public. Biblical scholars disagree about the detail concerning Mary’s hair and whether or not it lends an air of eroticism to the event. I think though that it is impossible to hear the story today without at least raising an eyebrow. At the very least, Mary’s hair lends the act with profound intimacy, calling attention to the tactile element of the anointing. The fragrance of her perfume would have filled the house, and the gentle touch of her locks would have filled Jesus’ senses. What Mary does here is an expression of love so deep that those watching would have found difficult to ignore or find ordinary. The fragrance of Mary’s act of worship fills not only the room or the house, but the hearts of those present.
Throughout Jesus’ life and ministry, certain smells would have carried deep emotional and spiritual significance. Thinking about these can perhaps help us to connect more deeply to his story and what he means to us today. Anointing with oil had many purposes in antiquity. For kings and priests, anointing meant consecration for a specific purpose, and we use it still. When I was ordained in St. Paul’s cathedral, I was anointed, for example, as all priests are. The sick were anointed as a ritual of healing and the dead anointed for burial. Mary anoints Jesus’ feet rather than his head and this foreshadows not only his burial but his scandalous act of washing the disciples’ feet at the Last Supper. The dinner at the house of Mary, Martha and Lazarus follows immediately from the scene where Jesus raised Lazarus from the dead, and it is no coincidence that this extraordinary scene is placed here. You will remember that the family were concerned about the stench of death as Lazarus had been dead for several days already when Jesus opens the cave and asks him to come out. Mary does not anoint Jesus as King and Messiah but as a corpse, as Jesus indicates. Soon they will be travelling to Jerusalem and the crucifixion.
Smells would have permeated the Last Supper too, the scent of freshly baked bread and poured wine would have filled the room as Jesus shared his final meal with his disciples. Like Mary’s pouring of the perfume, this moment was not just about eating – it was an act of love, a promise of his sacrifice and an invitation to deep spiritual connection. As we approach the altar to take the sacrament, we are reminded of the life he gave for us and the aroma of that moment lingers in our hearts.
In Gethsemane, the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and the sweat of Jesus as he prayed in agony. On the cross, there was the metallic smell of blood, the dryness of thirst, the stifling air of suffering. These aromas remind us of the depth of his love- a love willing to endure excruciating pain and death to bring us life. Already in the scene with Mary, the cross begins to loom large.
But why should this matter to us today? Why should we care about Mary’s perfume or the scent of bread and wine? Because these sensory experiences remind us that our faith is not just an abstract set of beliefs, but something lived, experienced and deeply real. Mary’s act of devotion was not practical; Judas didn’t understand and called Mary out as wasteful; it was indeed extravagant, emotional, and personal. And this is the kind of love Jesus calls us to—not a love of duty or mere obedience, but a love that is willing to pour itself out fully, even at great cost.
In our fast-paced, pragmatic world, we are often tempted to measure worth in terms of efficiency or usefulness. But Mary reminds us that true faith is about giving our best, not because it makes sense, but because love demands it. When we worship, when we serve, when we show kindness beyond what is expected, we, too, release an aroma of love that fills the spaces around us.
So perhaps the question for us as we move towards Palm Sunday and Holy Week is this: what is the fragrance of our faith? When people encounter us, do they sense the love of Christ lingering in the air? Do our actions, our words, our generosity leave behind a scent of grace that others cannot ignore? May we, like Mary, offer our extravagant love to Christ, pouring out our lives as a fragrant offering to him.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon: Mothering Sunday 2025
The days of Mothering Sunday sermons which extol in a rather sentimental way the virtues of motherhood are thankfully long over. Those of us who are mothers know from our own experience that it is anything but plain sailing. It comes with challenges, sacrifice and sometimes pain, alongside all the positive emotions and experiences. Not everyone has had the opportunity to be a mother, and that may bring its own sadness and pain. All of us have had a mother, but we may not have known her or may have had a difficult relationship with her.
Today we are celebrating relationships which go beyond the simply biological. We reflect on the love, strength and often sacrifice of those who mother – whether through biology, choice or circumstance. Often, motherly love is a quiet, unseen force, shaping lives without seeking recognition.
Our first reading tells the extraordinary story that I heard as a child as a child called ‘Moses in the bulrushes’ We didn’t hear it in our passage, but it tells the story of the Israelites who were slaves in Egypt, and to stop their numbers growing, Pharoah had decreed that all baby boys were to be killed. The story of Moses’ early life is a story of unseen courage. Three women—his mother Jochebed, his sister Miriam, and Pharaoh’s daughter—play vital roles in his survival, but none of them seek credit. Jochebed, driven by love, hides her baby for three months, then entrusts him to the waters of the Nile, in a basket, hoping against hope. Miriam, a young girl, watches over her brother, seizing the moment to reunite mother and child. Pharaoh’s daughter, moved by compassion, defies expectations and raises Moses as her own. Each of these women acts in faith, and God sees them. Their sacrifices change history, but at the time, their love might have seemed small, unnoticed, or even futile.
Fast forward to John 19, and we find another mother standing in quiet grief: Mary, watching her son suffer on the cross. So much of Mary’s motherhood has been unseen—pondering in her heart ; fleeing to Egypt in the night; urging Jesus into ministry at Cana. And now, in the darkest moment, she does not turn away. Jesus, in his pain, sees her. He acknowledges her presence, her love, her suffering. And he does something remarkable—he ensures that she will be cared for, entrusting her to John. In doing this, Jesus shows us that no act of love, no quiet sacrifice, goes unnoticed by God.
As so often happens in the Gospels, there is clearly more to this than meets the eye. Jesus is not just simply entrusting Mary to the care of a close friend. John and Mary are two people who believe in Jesus and his mission, and who believe in his claim to be the son of God, the saviour of the world. What Jesus is doing in this scene is bringing John – who presumably already had a mother – and Mary, an older woman, into a new relationship which transcends the bonds of a biological connection. This has an important resonance for us, because as members of the church, we too are in a new relationship with one another because Jesus died for us. There is something quite profound and transformational about this new family, formed at the foot of the cross, and it is a microcosm of what the church is called to be, and what it is. It means that because of the cross, we have a new first allegiance; a new family and a new identity.
God sees and honours those who love sacrificially. Just as God saw Jochebed’s courage and provided a way for her to raise her son, just as God saw Pharaoh’s daughter’s compassion and used her to preserve Moses, so too does Jesus see Mary and provide for her.
On this Mothering Sunday, this passage is a reminder that God sees; the parent who sacrifices to give their child a better future; the foster mother or mentor who loves a child not biologically her own; the caregiver who faithfully serves, even when exhausted and unseen; the ones who stand by those who suffer, offering quiet but powerful love.
If Jesus, in his deepest suffering, took time to see and care for his mother, so should we, as his followers, see and care for those around us. We live in a world where many people feel unseen—single parents struggling to provide, elderly mothers in care homes, those who have lost children, and those who long for a family. As the Church, we are called to embody Christ’s love, seeing and honouring those who love, even when the world overlooks them.
Mary at the cross and Jochebed at the Nile both remind us that God’s love notices, values, and provides for those who love selflessly. This Mothering Sunday, may we be a church that sees, honours, and supports the unseen caregivers in our midst, knowing that no act of love goes unnoticed by God.
Finally, we not only see in Mary a pattern and example of motherhood, but also we see in her a mother to us all. When John is entrusted to Mary, we are all entrusted to Mary. As former Archbishop of Canterbury Rowan Williams writes: “For centuries, Christians have kept coming back to the idea that what happens to Mary is what has to happen to some degree to each of us. She, uniquely, and once for all, says a yes so complete that her material life is changed by the coming of God to her; God’s everlasting gift of himself that is the Son, the Word, emerges from her to begin that life that will change everything in creation. But we are called to the same job, to give God room so that we may be changed, so that the eternal word will live in us and speak and act in love to others”.
As we give thanks for our mothers or those who have been mothers to us, let us remember the motherly love of Mary and Jesus to us, and be inspired to show that love to others. Those of us who are remembering our mothers who are no longer with us today can take comfort in the good news that death has been defeated, and that in our new family the church, by saying yes to God, we are united with them through the love of Jesus.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
23rd March 2025 Third Sunday of Lent – Isaiah 55 1-9
Today, we’ve heard a powerful message from Isaiah. This passage is all about the invitation of a lifetime! It’s about choosing God’s way over our way and finding the kind of abundance that truly satisfies our souls. It’s like getting invited to the most amazing and abundant feast, and the best part is that the price tag says, “FREE.” Who doesn’t like something for free?
Why does this passage fall in Lent, we might wonder? All this talk of abundance and rich food, at a time when people are giving up chocolate or wine? It seems to me perhaps that the overall thrust of Lent is about hunger and thirst. rather than self-restraint.
Isaiah is a favourite of mine, in case you hadn’t guessed. .To give you a bit of context, this passage is thought to have been written from Jerusalem, after the return of the people of Judah from their exile in Babylon. It wasn’t a prosperous time, and there’s evidence that many of them were literally having to sell their children into slavery to survive. It was also a turbulent time in the Southern kingdom of Judah which was under threat from surrounding nations. There was idol worship, oppression and marginalisation of the poor. As the French say plus ça change, plus c’est la la même chose – the more things change, the more they stay the same. We can recognise some of these shortcomings in our own world; worship of celebrities or material possessions, the dominance of particular groups because of their race or background, the ever- increasing gap between rich and poor almost everywhere.
Those who truly thirst and who truly hunger for God and the ways of God understand this invitation. The invitation, though, is to do more than simply drink from the waters. It is also about participating in the work of God. It is a work directed at more than simply the interior life, but a work that begins in the interior and has implications for all of God’s world. Lent calls us to “seek the Lord” and to “call upon him”. Lent is an invitation and a reminder that this surprising work of God is open to us all — whoever we are— if we will return to the God who abundantly pardons.
So we have an invitation to “Come to the waters”. This invitation is for everybody everywhere – the only requirement is to be thirsty -it’s a free gift to all who desire it. And what’s on offer doesn’t stop at water -wine and milk are also freely available, the former perhaps more to the taste of some of us in this congregation, including me! God does not only offer to quench the thirst, but to revive the body and nourish the spirit. It’s a call to put aside the things which do not truly satisfy.
The food and drink imagery gives us a tangible example of the abundant richness of life that is available to all people – rich and poor, oppressed and blessed, shackled and free – wicked and righteous. The question is – in a desert of uncertainty, are we thirsty for this gift? The writer tells us “Come buy and eat”. The response to this invitation is to accept it, to approach the waters. We must use what we have been given and when we receive this extravagant gift we are transformed.
Returning to God is about choices. We are all gifted with free will to choose for or against God. On a spiritual, individual plane, there are healthy choices we can make for our own souls, choosing that which gives life rather than that which does not nourish. We can choose how we spend our money – and from whom we withhold it, for example. Choosing not to support an unethical company is a tangible way we can make a difference as individuals. On a broader scale, we know that the world produces enough food to feed everybody if only it were shared out equally. Yet many subsistence communities abroad have been forced to give up farming, displaced by cash crops that feed richer nations, while they themselves depend on expensive, nutrient-low imports.
Here’s a true illustration of how the choices we make can affect everything. A young entrepreneur was chasing her dream of launching an eco-friendly clothing brand. To start with she took shortcuts; cutting costs, rushing marketing, even exaggerating her products’ benefits just to make quick sales. But instead of feeling fulfilled, she’s feeling empty and frustrated. Her business felt like a rollercoaster of inconsistency and broken promises.
Then one night, she remembered something her grandmother used to say: “If you want real success, build something on truth and love. Do it God’s way, and the rest will follow.” That line struck a chord. And right then, she made a choice. She decided to shift her focus—to do things God’s way. Instead of going for a quick buck, she committed to quality, honesty, and generosity. She even started donating part of her profits to causes that matter to her.
Guess what happened? Over time, her business started to flourish! And not just financially. Her reputation soared her joy returned, and customers were drawn to her passion and integrity. She discovered that when you choose God’s way, you experience a kind of abundance that just can’t be achieved by doing it our way. Let’s not miss verses 8-9 where God says: “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways.” God’s way of doing things is so much higher and better than anything we could ever dream up on our own.
How can we take seriously this vision of abundance? Justice in Scripture is always rooted in time, place and story. It’s about people and the image of God within them – an image damaged and distorted by sin – our own and that of others. When we choose the things that are not life-giving, we fail to come to the waters. I wonder if we might reflect – how has God been abundant in my life? How might I be able to share this abundance with others? We are encouraged to listen, to come and take our fill. God’s invitation is wide open. His abundance is ready and waiting. Let’s choose his way today and watch how his blessings overflow in our lives. Amen.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
Luke 13.31–end : 16/03/2025 Second Sunday of Lent
Jesus and his disciples have begun to make their way towards Jerusalem. This journey will take some time, before finally entering Jerusalem on what we know as Palm Sunday.
That is the direction of travel. But along the way, Jesus attracts the resentment of religious leaders, and in today’s passage we observe such an encounter.
There are mixed motives here. The passage begins with the Pharisees warning Jesus to leave because Herod wants to kill him.
We know that the Pharisees resent Jesus; in fact, we know that they want him dead. Why on earth, then, are they warning Jesus about Herod’s intention to kill him? Why are they helping him? It does not add up.
Jesus’ response to Herod differs from that of his cousin John the Baptist. Luke mentions the beheading of John in chapter 9.
In the corresponding account in the Gospel of Mark, we see how John the Baptist allows himself to get caught up in the ‘affairs’ of Herod, quite literally, because John confronts Herod about lusting after his own brother’s wife.
Unlike Jesus, John allows himself to become consumed with Herod’s affairs, which enables Herod to manipulate, control and eventually destroy him.
Let us consider an equal situation from nature:-
This is what foxes do – if we do not learn how to handle the ‘Herods’ in our own life.
Embrace the hen – Jesus – introduces another creature – one that might be regarded as the opposite of a fox – a hen. He says, ‘How often have I desired to gather your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!’
Jesus wants to brood over Jerusalem with a hen’s devoted love and protection. Following Jewish tradition that describes God as a mother.
We read as:-
A mother eagle in Deuteronomy,
A mother bear in Hosea,
or we read a Nursing mother in Isaiah
Jesus describes his relationship to Jerusalem in this way.
In contrast to tyrants and foxes, Jesus offers us the image of a mother hen, gathering her chicks under her wings and nurturing them to become the people of God.
This mother hen is willing to put herself between the fox and her brood. She is vulnerable to violence but willing to risk her own body to save her chicks.
Being a chicken In this world of crafty foxes and treacherous rulers, a brooding mother hen is a wonderful picture.
Who would have thought that a chicken could be an image of courage and love?
It is not easy to be a chicken. Chickens are often targets for the strong and manipulative, as we’ve seen with King Herod and John the Baptist and as we have seen in more recent times with Dictatorships in this world.
While Jesus was able to avoid the fox that was Herod, a greater predator awaited him in Jerusalem. Jesus knew that his journey would culminate in his death.
And yet, like the mother hen, he used his love and his own body to protect the ones he loves. Thankfully, we know that the hen’s sacrifice was not the end of the story. Her love remains, and we are here today as a witness to the power of that mothering, brooding, sacrificial love.
With a mother hen like Jesus, we do not need to fear the foxes of this world. We do not need to fear death.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
Sermon Luke 4 : 1-13 First Sunday of Lent
I must confess that when I first looked at today’s Gospel, the first thing that came into my head was Oscar Wilde’s characteristically flippant remark: “I can resist everything except temptation.” . And I think we are sometimes tripped up by the word temptation which has connotations which often refer to human appetites for things which bring pleasure – such as chocolate or wine . Lent isn’t really about giving up chocolate or wine, however, though it has become what people do.Perhaps a better translation of the Greek would be testing rather than temptation, as that suggests choosing between two paths – and indeed some of the most modern translations use this word.
Temptation or testing is a universal human experience. The fact that Jesus was tested underlines the fact that he was fully human. For the last few weeks, we’ve been looking at Jesus as the divine Son of God, culminating in the vision of glory of the Transfiguration. But this week, we are brought back to earth with a bump when we are shown that as well as being fully divine, he was also fully human and knew what it meant to be tempted or tested. And unlike us, even though he was tempted, he avoided falling into sin.
We are told that Jesus has been fasting in the wilderness for 40 days – and the first test the devil throws his way is to turn a stone into bread, an assault of a physical nature. We might on first sight think well where’s the harm in that? Jesus must have been weak with hunger at that point, and there doesn’t seem any intrinsic harm in working a miracle to feed himself, does there? Nobody was watching after all…. However, the power of this test is apparent in the weasel words of the devil who prefaces his suggestion with ‘If you are the Son of God’. This question is designed to make Jesus doubt precisely whether he is indeed the Son of God. If he’d given in, he’d have been using his power as the Son of God to serve his own personal needs. Sound familiar? Think back to the temptation of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Jesus here becomes the new Adam, reversing the decision to indulge his human appetites.
The second test is one we can recognise in ourselves too; here the devil is appealing to the human desire for power. Jesus is offered the authority and glory of all the kingdoms of the world. This was a temptation to embrace what many would have expected of him as Messiah: political and military might and rule. But Jesus rejects this way, as his kingdom is of a very different order, a kingdom based on love and self-sacrifice. Later, in Gethsemane, he willingly accepts the supreme sacrifice of the cross, overcoming sin & death once & for all.
The final temptation is all about trying to test God, by deliberately putting himself in danger. If Jesus had chosen to throw himself from the pinnacle of the temple, paradoxically he would have displayed a lack of trust in God and been subject to a kind of spiritual pride as well as a desire to step aside from the path chosen by God for him. It would also have been something of a magician’s trick. Again, this probably has a resonance for us too. The temptations of Jesus– selfishness, arrogance and pride – in other words self-involvement, can threaten and unpick our relationships.
So Jesus was tested in the wilderness concerning his baptismal vocation as the Son of God. He was obedient to the course upon which he had been set by his baptism by John at the Jordan. For modern readers, the story of Jesus being tempted by the devil in the wilderness is perhaps quite difficult, because it seems unreal and far removed from our own experience. The devil does not appear to us and transport us from place to place. And the temptations we experience are maybe not so clear cut. The choices we have to make are less between good and bad but rather between bad and worse or good and better – there are many grey areas.
And so we see the contrasting of two possible narratives – self-centredness and a hunger for power coupled with an absolute belief in our own convictions versus the exact opposite -self-sacrifice, humility and love. We don’t need to look far on our world stage to see disgraceful examples of the former.
When we think of evil, we tend to think of things like genocide, murder, abuse of all kinds and so it’s easy to distance ourselves from them. It’s much harder to examine our own backyard in the form of our relationships within our families, with our work colleagues or with people we encounter on a daily basis. Lent is the season when we are encouraged to attend to our relationships and behaviour. It’s no good giving up chocolate or wine if nothing else changes.
I’ll leave you with a passage from CS Lewis’ Screwtape letters, with the subtitle letters from a senior to a junior devil. For those who haven’t read it (and I recommend it if you haven’t), the plot and characters are used to address Christian theological issues, primarily those to do with temptation and resistance to it. The story takes the form of a series of letters from a senior devil called Screwtape, to his nephew, Wormwood, a junior tempter. Screwtape dispenses advice to his nephew about how to secure the damnation of his “patient”, a British man. Here’s a piece of advice from Screwtape about how to draw his subject away from God. I think the examples today would be a little different, such as doom-scrolling on Facebook or other social media, checking our phones constantly, amongst the many distractions of. Modern life.
“You will soon find that anything or nothing is sufficient to attract his wandering attention. You no longer need a good book, which he really likes, to keep him from his prayers or his work or his sleep; a column of advertisements in yesterday’s paper will do. You can make him waste his time not only on conversation he enjoys with people he likes, but in conversations with those he cares nothing about on subjects that bore him. You can make him do nothing at all for long periods. You will say that these are very small sins; doubtless like all young tempters you are anxious to be able to report some spectacular wickedness. But do remember, the only thing that matters is the extent to which you separate the man from the Enemy (i.e God). It does not matter how small the sins are provided that their cumulative effect is to edge the man away from the Light and out into the Nothing. Murder is no better than cards, if cards can do the trick. Indeed, the safest road to Hell is the gradual one – the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts. “
You get the drift. Sin really boils down to anything which separates or distracts us from God. Of course, we live in the world and need to function as part of it. This Lent, let’s not worry about what we’ve given up, but focus on the positive things we can do which turn us back to God.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon Luke 8:22-25 : Jesus calms the storms in our lives
As many of you will know, I spent my working life as a mariner and know too well the power that water has, and that it needs to be respected.
The gospel reading this morning was a great reminder to me of the power and danger of water too. If you’ve ever had a flooded washing machine or broken pipework, you will know the damage that water can do. Or if you’ve ever been caught in a riptide you know how strong a current can be. If you’ve ever experienced monsoon rains, or maybe a tsunami you will know the power of water: it is a formidable force and can cause deep chaos…
And in the reading we’ve just heard from Luke’s Gospel, we know that the disciples of Jesus knew all about the force of water when they were caught up in this storm. Let’s set the context…
Jesus and the disciples were in the boat on Lake Galilee – or the Sea of Galilee. The Lake of Galilee is about 13 miles 21 Km long and 8 miles 13 Km wide and it’s also in a valley area, so, when the wind whips up the storms arrive even before you know it. As we living in the Oratava Valley know only to well. It is very easy indeed to get caught out in a storm on Lake Galilee. Likewise sailors know that it’s the Eternal Father’s arm that binds the restless waves.
Now these were experienced fishermen – they knew the Lake very well and so they wouldn’t have gone out on it if they had thought for one moment that they would get caught out. But the ferocity of a storm on Lake Galilee can come out of nowhere. And that, of course, is what happened to the disciples.
There they were, sailing happily across the Lake when a gale whips up without warning.
They are scared for their lives.
They think they are about to sink.
And, in the midst of all the problems, there lies Jesus fast asleep in the back of the boat. He was exhausted! There were so many demands on Jesus to teach, to heal, to show compassion and loving-kindness with every person he met, hour after hour, minute after minute. So much was demanded of Jesus it is not surprising that, when he eventually did get some rest he would fall into a very deep sleep indeed.
But this, of course, was lost on the disciples. In their fear and anxiety, they shook Jesus hard and shouted, “Master! Master! We are about to die!” gets up and orders the wind and immediately, it dies down. So Christ whose voice the waters heard brings a great calm upon the waters. An incredible miracle, that teaches us a great deal about Jesus and a great deal about our relationship with him.
There’s something quite fascinating about the sea in the Bible. The sea is mentioned loads of times. In the Book of Job in the Old Testament, God determines the course of the sea. In the Book of Revelation in the New Testament, there is a description of heaven, the new Jerusalem, where the sea will be no more.
Many other references too. But what is particularly interesting is that when the sea is mentioned in the Bible more often than not it is a metaphor. In the Bible, the sea is used metaphorically, representing chaos and disorder. So in the Book of Revelation, for example, when it says that there will be no sea in heaven, it is a metaphor to say that there will be no chaos in heaven but that everything will be beautifully peaceful and ordered.
So, in this story from Luke’s Gospel when Jesus calms the storm and the sea is stilled, it is a symbol for us that God can still the chaos and disorder in our lives. In some versions of the Bible, it says that “Jesus rebuked the storm…”, which is an illustration of the divine power of God at work in the world.
I’m sure you remember the film ‘Forrest Gump’: a great film about a young man with learning difficulties who happens to be a really profound and wise person. And Forrest Gump has some great catchphrases, the most famous of which, of course is “Mama always used to say. ‘Life is like a box of chocolates – you never know what you’re gonna get.” And there is real truth in that, isn’t Life so unpredictable, we don’t know what surprises lie in store for us from day to day, even from hour to hour…Good things in life take us by surprise and we celebrate those moments. But, sadly, negative and difficult times creep up on us and impact us when we least expect it.
There are times in our lives when we feel at the mercy of the storm, when we feel as if our lives are as chaotic as the buffeting ocean. Perhaps a financial crisis, an illness, a bereavement, a breakdown of relationship. And we pray and pray and pray but sometimes it as if Jesus is asleep; he doesn’t hear, no matter how loud we shout…
Doesn’t it seem, sometimes in life, as if Jesus is asleep in the back of the boat? But what we do know, what our experience is as Christians, is that, when life seems tough or when we see the suffering of others, it is right and appropriate to be persistent in prayer. We need to keep calling on The Holy Spirit that broods over the waters dark and rude, in our most difficult times. Because, in our persistence, we believe that the Lord does hear us and will rebuke the storms and the chaos of our lives will be stilled.
The Christian writer, Lavinia Byrne says that when we pray, “Ladders get put up to heaven”. It’s such a lovely idea about prayer, isn’t it? Prayer as a ladder being put up to heaven…
The disciples were desperate; their lives were in danger, they thought they would perish. Their faith was weak but, in their weakness, they called out to Jesus and he heard them and rescued them.
And so it is with us. In the weakness of our faith, in the chaos of our lives, in the midst of our anxieties and fear, we too can call out to Christ in confidence that he will hear us and will meet with us in the storms of our lives.
The words of God to us in Isaiah 43 are so beautiful. His promise is this:
“Do not be afraid, for I have redeemed you.
I have called you by name; you are mine.
When you go through deep waters,
I will be with you.
When you go through rivers of difficulty,
you will not drown.”
That is the experience of Christians throughout history. That is the experience of so many of us here today.
For those of us who are currently in the storms and chaos of life, the promise of God holds good for us today. If we are persistent in prayer, Jesus will meet with us and meet our needs. And, like the disciples in this passage, we will be amazed at his authority in our lives.
Remember it’s The Trinity of Love and Power that shields us all in dangers hour. Amen
Peter Lockyer
Lay Reader
Sermon 16th February – Luke 6: 17-26
Today’s gospel, with the topsy-turvy world it presents makes uncomfortable reading for those of us – and I imagine that this applies to the majority of us here this morning – who are well-fed and live a life of relative material comfort. And I think it is supposed to. This passage is known as the Beatitudes, and the most famous version is from Matthew’s gospel. Today we have Luke’s version, and it is a little different -Matthew’s version of this takes place on a mountain, whereas from Luke we hear that Jesus was standing in a level place. The scene is set, as Jesus is surrounded by a great crowd of people who have been responsive to his message. They have come, not to test him or simply out of idle curiosity. These people have come to hear Jesus and to be healed by him.
Luke’s version includes God’s favour on those who are poor, the hungry, those who weep and those who are hated. Luke’s beatitudes speak in the second person (i.e. ´you, compared to Matthew’s which speak in the third person, i.e. ´they´). This gives them an immediacy and a direct appeal to all who hear them. Luke’s version speaks to real socio-economic conditions perhaps rather than spiritual conditions or attitudes, as in Matthew, who speaks of the poor in spirit.
Liberation theologian Gustavo Gutierrez has commented: “God has a preferential love for the poor, not because they are necessarily better than others in some way, but because they are poor and living in an inhuman situation that is contrary to God’s will. “Because we are not poor, we may find this a little mystifying, or perhaps it leaves us feeling guilty rather than joyful. Like the rich young ruler, we hear the Lord’s word and go away because we have many possessions. Perhaps our pride and our ability to provide for ourselves have blocked the channels of blessing. We need of course to re-order our priorities, but how difficult that is!
It is true that more than any other gospel, Luke’s gospel speaks of the dangers of wealth. However, it’s important to bear in mind before we feel too guilty about being well-fed that Jesus’ sermon begins with blessings on the disciples and also on the poor. The blessing of the poor does not idealise or glorify poverty but rather speaks of God’s commitment to them. One of the hallmarks of the new kingdom will be the redemption of the poor.
The last beatitude “Blessed are you when people hate you” is a tricky one too. It suggests that those who live by God’s blessing will find themselves so out of kilter with the world that others will persecute them. It is extraordinary that people in the Church still receive hostile receptions from certain quarters. A small example is a Facebook page where we have been asked not to post things that are “churchy” because people have complained about them or that it’s not relevant. I see many things on FB sites which aren’t relevant to me – and I just ignore them – I don’t complain about them or feel offended!
Perhaps the most important point of these challenging words to us today is that Jesus redefines what blessing means – not as earthly prosperity but as spiritual dependence on God. Imagine a world where the last are first, the weak are strong and the poor are rich- this is the radically different view of blessing Jesus presents to us. The world values wealth, status and financial security. But Jesus says that those who recognise their need for God are the ones who are truly blessed.
We hear “blessed are you who hunger now, for you will be satisfied”. The world tells us to seek comfort, indulgence and satisfaction. But Jesus turns this on its head by explaining that those who hunger for righteousness will be filled. Righteousness in this context just means ‘doing the right thing’. Many so-called celebrities have fame and fortune but still often struggle with emptiness, addiction and depression. It begs the question – what are we hungry for – success, comfort -or more of God?
“Blessed are you who weep now, for you will laugh”. The world seems to say that life is about happiness, fun and entertainment. But Jesus says that those who mourn over sin, suffering and injustice are the ones who are truly blessed. We live in a broken world, and there is such a thing as “compassion fatigue”. Someone like Martin Luther King and others wept over racial injustice- but their tears led to powerful social change. Do we weep over sin in our lives and the world, or are we numb to suffering?
“Blessed are you when people hate you”. The world values approval, likes and followers. Jesus puts us on notice that if we truly follow him, we will face opposition. Even today, Christians around the world face persecution for their faith. Some lose their jobs, families or their lives. Thankfully we are not in that situation. But we do risk perhaps being ridiculed for our beliefs, and that’s never very comfortable.
How can we respond to this challenge? We are being invited to live by a new set of values – kingdom values. True blessing is not found in wealth, comfort, entertainment or popularity. It comes from knowing, trusting and following Jesus. The idea of blessing is very old. God’s
blessing first appears in the Hebrew bible when God promises to bless Abraham and his descendants and make them a blessing to all the peoples of the earth. One of the oldest recorded blessings we have is the blessing of Aaron in Numbers 6 “The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you, the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace”. I use a version of this blessing for someone who doesn’t receive communion. It was recently found on a piece of silver in a tomb just south of Jerusalem, and dates from about 600 BCE – in other words, it’s very old. God blesses us not for selfish gain, but so that we can be a blessing to others. As we leave the church today with God’s blessing in our ears, let us recognise our need for God’s blessing, and try intentionally to be a
blessing to someone around us who is in need, whether physically, emotionally or spiritually.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
9th February – Luke 5. 1-11 (with planned giving)
I have talked recently about how God turns scarcity into abundance, and today’s gospel demonstrates that when we give in faith, God provides more than enough. Simon Peter had worked all night and caught nothing, and we might imagine that he must have felt frustrated and exhausted. And I think we all at times feel that we don’t have enough to give, whether it’s time, energy or finances. But Jesus invites us to trust him, even when it seems impossible.
Peter against all odds did as Jesus suggested and let down the nets one more time, and they overflowed with fish. And we see that God honours our faithfulness when we put God first, including in our giving. Just as Peter’s boat overflowed, God provides for those who place their trust in God.
I want to speak specifically today about money and finances. And I would first like to say an enormous thank you to everyone here. I am deeply grateful for the huge commitment made by everyone in this chaplaincy to give of their time and talents for the glory of God in this place. I am very optimistic for our future together and there are many signs of growth here after a fallow period: congregation numbers are up; we have a thriving and growing children’s ministry; we are reaching out to all ages with our friendship café; we are continuing to build a varied music ministry; and offering a safe haven for anybody who walks through our doors. I could see the enormous potential of this wonderful community when I came to visit 2 years ago and that is why I decided to come here. I am not interested in treading water; I am ambitious for All Saints and want us to grow and broaden our outreach and continue to spread the good news of the gospel in this part of the world. We have a dream of making the church sustainable with solar panels, and making sure we’re good stewards of God’s bounty, and saving money on electricity costs into the bargain; perhaps developing some kind of retreat centre here? There are so many exciting possibilities.
I am aware that we stand on the shoulders of those who have gone before us – this beautiful church exists thanks to the vision of those in the 19th century who found the money and built it. We are the inheritors of this wonderful legacy, and it would be marvellous to be able to pay forward the inheritance we have received to those who come after us and to secure the future of the English-speaking community here.
For this, we need to build on our financial resilience. We have some draft accounts which are yet to be finalised, and the good news is that overall, our income is up by around €24000. But our expenses have also increased, and so we are still running something of a deficit. We had one exceptional item relating to the legacy we have received, which has skewed the expenditure somewhat. The car boot raises a good sum – just under €36000 last year but the net amount is closer to €20000, which doesn’t come close to covering our regular expenses. I am not going to bombard you with too many numbers, but it costs around € 10500 per month to keep the show on the road.
You might think this sounds like a large number, so let’s try and break that down a little. Unlike parishes in the UK, we receive no funding whatsoever from the Church of England, the Diocese in Europe or anybody else. All our running costs have to be met by the chaplaincy itself; so that includes money to support our ministry, to ensure that we continue to offer regular services and events, maintain our beautiful church building and grounds and to provide for the less fortunate in our community. Kath and I are looking to reduce some of our running costs where possible, but we are not convinced that there is much leeway here.
As many of you know, we have received a legacy in the form of a house, which we are on the point of selling. The legator requested that his bequest be used for projects to develop our church and grounds, and we cannot in all conscience use that inheritance money to cover day to day expenses. We need to use it to build our resources and sustainability for the future.
In a nutshell, we should be aiming to cover regular costs with regular giving. I am therefore asking everyone who considers themselves a member of All Saints and its community to consider joining our Planned giving scheme, by making a pledge to give an amount – a percentage of income – regularly by standing order. I know that financial commitments can feel daunting, and we all have responsibilities pulling us in different directions, but I would ask each of you to reflect prayerfully about this. And of course, if your circumstances change, you can change the amount you give. We have an opportunity to build something- just as those before us did. Imagine what we can do together if each of us takes a step of faith.
The advantages of pledged giving are two-fold. First, it enables the church to plan with more certainty. Second, if you pay income tax in the UK, you can complete a Gift Aid declaration one time only, and this enables All Saints to recover from HMRC income tax at the standard rate on your donation. This means that currently we receive an extra 25 pounds for every 100 pounds that is pledged. Once you have completed a Gift Aid form, there is no need to do it again. There is unfortunately no such scheme in Spain. However, if you pay tax in Spain, your charitable giving can be allowed against tax from the Hacienda – so you can claim some tax relief personally at least. Someone from Madrid told me they had received been €400 and €800 back from Hacienda depending on the level of giving – well worth it, I think.
Our generous God has provided for us time after time and as St. Paul says in the second letter to the Corinthians “Each one must give as he or she has decided in his/her heart, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver.” I invite you to be part of our exciting journey – let’s step out in faith together. Please do speak to me or Kath if you have any questions.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
2nd February: Candlemas 2025 – a candle in the window
Today we are celebrating Candlemas, the official end of the Christmas and Epiphany seasons. Candlemas is a principal feast in the Church of England; hence we are using white coloured vestments and altar cloth. As we know, it also marks the midpoint between winter and the Spring equinox – not such an important thing here but very much so in the UK with its short days.
I was asked last week by a school party who visited the church why we had candles in the windows. The tradition of placing a candle in the window is ancient and has symbolised warmth, welcome and guidance. In times of war and exile, a candle meant “you are not forgotten.”. We lit them during Covid in the UK to remember those who have died. For travellers, it was a beacon of safety and hospitality. During Christmas, some traditions light candles in the window as a reminder of the Holy Family seeking shelter in Bethlehem.
On Candlemas when we celebrate Christ as the Light of the World, this image becomes a powerful metaphor, Christ is the light in the window of our souls, inviting us to receive him, as we in turn are called to be that welcoming light for others. And of course, the wonderful copy of the Holman Hunt painting we have in our sanctuary illustrates this in a visual way.
Have you ever looked in detail at it?. It was first painted in 1854 and is very much a product of the Victorian era; Jesus is depicted as white, with long fair hair, as we see in much European religious art and stained-glass windows. It’s quite a complex painting and rich in symbolism. The inscription, taken from Revelation Chapter 3, verse 20 reads: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come into him and eat with him, and he with me. “
This phrase is key to decoding the painting, I believe. The New Testament often tells of Jesus eating with people and many parables and teachings contain references to feasts and celebrations. But there’s a deeper meaning to the metaphor of eating; it is sometimes used to describe the Kingdom of Heaven. For example, in Luke chapter 14, we hear the parable of a great banquet to which people are invited; the guests make excuses and do not turn up, so the host invites the marginalised of society; in our day this would be the homeless, the refugees, the drug addicts. All of these are welcome at the feast. And of course, the other meal alluded to here is that of the Eucharist, where we share bread and wine in remembrance of the Last Supper as we remember Jesus´ body and blood sacrificed on the cross.
The door is an important symbol in this painting and is thought to represent the door of our lives or souls. Jesus is standing waiting patiently for us to open up. I don’t know if you have spotted this, but the door has no handle, so the only way for it to be opened is from the inside. This suggests that the person who hears Jesus’ message needs to accept it and admit him. Jesus’ feet are turned sideways from the door, and there’s a hint that he’s been standing there for a long time and is about to go, or that time is running out. In the background, there’s a wood, night is beginning to fall; it’s as though he’s been there all day, just waiting.
In contrast to the dark wood, which perhaps has some frightening undertones, Jesus is carrying a lantern in his hand. All the light in the painting is coming from the lantern, and evokes John 8 verse 14 : “I am the Light of the world”. Juxtaposed with the dark wood, this implies that Jesus leads his followers through the dark and difficult times of our lives, providing both hope and guidance.
If you look at the top of the door, you can see that it’s quite overgrown with weeds, some of which are dead. They stop the door from being opened and represent the things which distract us from following Jesus. Similarly, there is rotten fruit on the ground which seems to have been discarded. Like the weeds around the door, this symbolises how some people treat Jesus’ invitation. It’s a symbol of desolation and decay, which accompanies a life lived without the Light of the World. Jesus wears an expression of calm and patience and most importantly of invitation. The Jesus we see in the painting doesn’t seek to brush the difficult aspects of life under the carpet; the dark wood is still there in the background; but it speaks of hope and light, on offer whenever we choose to accept it; and that it’s never too late to join the party.
Simeon and Anna had waited for many years to see the Messiah, and when they met the infant Jesus in the temple, they recognised him as the light of salvation. Their faith and patience were rewarded. In a world full of uncertainty and darkness, not least the appalling mess the Church of England is in today, Christ is our guiding light, always present, always inviting us in. Just as a candle in a window reassures a traveller, Christ reassures us that we are never alone. He welcomes us, forgives us and leads us home.
However, a candle in the window doesn’t burn for itself, but rather it shines for those outside. In the same way, our faith should not be hidden but visible and welcoming. How do we shine this light today? Perhaps through hospitality – not just welcoming people into our homes but making room in our hearts and lives for those in need; through acts of kindness – a kind word, a listening ear, a helping hand – these are all ways to shine Christ’s light; through faith in action, standing up for justice, caring for the lonely and being a voice of peace in a divided world.
On Candlemas, we are reminded that Christ is the Light of the World, and He calls us to carry that light forward. A candle in the window does not discriminate—it shines for all who pass by. May we be people who place a candle in the window of our hearts, homes, and churches—so that others may see the light of Christ and know they are welcome, loved, and never alone.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
26th January: Jesus speaks in the Synagogue – Luke 4. 14-21
In the last couple of weeks, we’ve heard in our gospel about the baptism of Jesus, and then the miracle of turning water into wine at Cana. Both these episodes point to and confirm that Jesus is the Son of God. The Spirit descended on Jesus at his baptism and at Cana we hear that he manifested his glory to the disciples. Today, we have another extraordinary scene. In his home town of Nazareth, with all eyes glued on him, the carpenter’s son reads out a carefully chosen passage from Isaiah. Jesus announces to all that he is the one who will do this – “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” The Spirit anoints and commissions Jesus to announce good news about imminent physical and spiritual transformation: release from captivity, recovery of lost vision, freedom from oppression.
There is much talk of the Holy Spirit in the passages we’ve heard in the last few weeks, so I wanted to spend a little time this morning exploring this topic. So, what might we ask, is the Holy Spirit? The first obvious answer might be the third person of the Trinity – as in Father, Son and Holy Spirit – we refer to the Trinity many times during our service. In a nutshell, the Spirit represents God’s presence in the world, often depicted in Scripture through powerful symbols such as wind, fire or a dove. I have hinted at this before, and some have found it destabilising – God is always a man, right? Wrong, I’m afraid. God has no gender in the way we would understand it. And in many biblical traditions, the Holy Spirit is associated with characteristics often regarded as feminine. The Hebrew word for Spirit, “ruach” is feminine, and the Greek word “Pneuma” is neuter (i.e. neither masculine or feminine) which suggests a broader understanding of the Spirit’s nature.
The Spirit is mysterious yet deeply personal, connecting us to God in profound ways. We hear in the passage that Jesus was “filled with the power of the Holy Spirit” – a pivotal moment when he begins his public ministry, empowered by this Spirit. As well as being powerful, the Holy Spirit is portrayed as comforting, nurturing and life-giving. These qualities perhaps align with the image of a mother, or a gentle dove, a symbol of peace and care.
So what, you might be wondering? How does this relate to us in the 21st century? Of course, the Holy Spirit is not exclusive to Jesus’ ministry. She is a gift given to all believers, guiding, empowering and comforting us. In John’s gospel, Jesus promises the Holy Spirit as the advocate who will be with us for ever. For example, have you ever struggled with a major life decision and suddenly felt a sense of peace and clarity after praying or sitting quietly in reflection? I would contend that this is the Holy Spirit in action offering wisdom and direction. Only this last Friday, I was speaking to someone who found herself widowed in her early 50s. After a few years of feeling a bit lost, she went on a trip to Chile with her daughter. As part of that trip, they climbed a mountain, and it was something of a struggle to get to the top, but she persevered. The view at the top was literally breath-taking and worth the effort. She could see the wonder of creation in all its glory. And she told me : “all of a sudden, something completely changed, and I felt that at last I had turned a corner and could move on with my life”. She didn’t attribute this new direction to the Holy Spirit herself, but I felt that here was most clear evidence of God in her life.
What about a stranger going out of their way to help someone in need, even when it would be inconvenient? Or the outpouring of support and generosity during natural disasters or humanitarian crises? I would point to the generosity of this congregation and the wider community during the Valencia crisis or the wildfires in 2023, just before I arrived. I suggest that this is the Spirit moving people to act selflessly for the sake of others. Or perhaps the work of interfaith groups after the Grenfell tower fire in 2017, just a couple of miles down the road from where I used to love, who helped survivors in the vacuum left by the authorities. Here we see the work of the Spirit, breaking down barriers between racial and religious groups and prompting reconciliation and unity.
What about unexpected encounters – a chance meeting with someone that leads to life-changing encouragement or a new direction, resilience in times of crisis where a family or an individual finds strength to endure difficult circumstances? And of course we all (I hope) sense the Holy Spirit in church services in the breaking of the bread, at prayer, through uplifting music for example. Personally, I often feel her breath on my face at these times.
The Holy Spirit isn’t just a comforter but also a catalyst for action. Jesus’ ministry, empowered by the Spirit is a model for us. He didn’t stay in one place but moved outward, engaging with the marginalised and the oppressed. How is the Spirit calling us to act is maybe the question we might ask ourselves? The Spirit always calls us to participate in some way – however small – in God’s transformative work. Of course this can be daunting. But just as the Spirit sustained Jesus in moments of rejection and difficulty, it sustains us as we step out in faith. Think of Bishop Budde in the US daring to speak the truth to power. For Jesus, the Spirit was not just the beginning of his ministry but a constant source of strength throughout his trials, including his journey to the cross. There was a triptych in the Lady Chapel of my last church which depicted the ascended Jesus with his hands held out and the comforting message: “Lo, I am with you always!” The Spirit’s presence is a promise – we are never alone; God’s power is at work within us.
Jesus’ proclamation in the synagogue was bold and transformative and made possible by the Holy Spirit. That same Spirit is available to us today, working through us and around us. How is the Spirit moving in our individual lives? Where is the Spirit leading us to bring renewal and hope? Do we dare be open to the Spirit’s power, confident that the same Spirit who empowered Jesus can empower us to be agents of God’s love and transformation in the world? Do we understand the broader vision of the Holy Spirit as embodying both traditionally masculine and feminine traits? And to what extent does that enrich our connection to God, reminding us of the Spirit’s role in bringing balance, compassion and wholeness? Amen.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
19th January – The Wedding at Cana
Many of you will have heard me say – and I make no apology for it – that nobody liked a good party more than Jesus. It is a fact that throughout the gospels, we observe Jesus sharing hospitality of food and wine with people on many occasions. And this wedding party was no exception. Even at a conservative estimate, Jesus turned the equivalent of well over 700 bottles of water into wine. Quite some party, even given that in 1st century Palestine, such festivities lasted at least 3 days, and the entire village would be invited.
The fact that Jesus performs his first miracle or ‘sign’ as the writer of John’s gospel would have it -at a wedding – is incidental to the core message of this story; it just so happens that the beginning of Jesus’ ministry – at least in John’s gospel – is inaugurated at a wedding.
John’s gospel more than any other, focuses on the identity of Jesus as the Son of God. We heard recently in our Christmas reading from this Gospel: ‘in the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God.’ Our Gospel writer is making it clear from the off who Jesus is. And with this ‘first miracle’ -we and at least some of the participants in the story – are privileged to get a first glimpse of his glory.
So here we have Jesus, fully human, attending a wedding, just in the way any of us might do. These days, running out of wine at a wedding would be a bit embarrassing, but not the end of the world; but for the wine to run short in in an honour and blame culture such as that described in our gospel would have been a serious problem; such a social faux pas would have brought shame and dishonour on the bride and bridegroom – a failure of hospitality that would be gossiped over for years to come. We don’t know why the hosts hadn’t provided sufficient wine for their guests; in the ancient world, it was a custom for guests to bring wedding gifts in the form of food and drink, to share the burden of providing for such a large number of people. This story reminds us that abundance often comes not just from miraculous acts but from faithful communities pulling together, each contributing what they can to meet the needs of all. Jesus’s miracle amplifies this idea, pointing to a God who can take even our smallest offerings and use them to transform the world.
Providing wine is a sign of shared hospitality, and by discreetly covering the lack of wine, Jesus is acting as a faithful member of the community, and a friend. He brings not only an abundant quantity of wine to this feast, but also wine of the highest quality. From this we can glean that surprisingly good and abundant things are to come as Jesus begins his ministry; we see the mission of Jesus continuing God’s work in the world, providing both hospitality and a place of belonging outside of the existing honour/shame structure. Just as Jesus provided an abundance for this celebration, we are invited to reflect on how we might respond to God’s generosity. How can we turn what we have—our time, talents, and treasure—into blessings that overflow for others?”
The story plays on reversal of expectations about who is an insider and who is an outsider. The first signs of Jesus’ glory are revealed to a select few, and it’s not to the people we’d expect. The bride or the groom might have been expected to play a key role here, noticing how Jesus has saved their family from shame – but instead, they enjoy the wine, oblivious to the fact that they’ve been saved from this deep disgrace. The important guests might have inside information about where this top- notch wine has come from, but instead, it’s the servants who get a sneak peek at Jesus’ identity and power. The steward is perplexed by the sudden appearance of wine of such quality and summons the bridegroom in search of a rational explanation of this unprecedented generosity.
Rational explanations miss the mark, however. The disciples recognise the revelation of God in the abundant supply of wine and understand that Jesus is the one who has brought God to them. We hear “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” The disciples understand that Jesus, though fully human, is also fully divine.
The miracle of the wine shatters the boundaries of their conventional world and the disciples are willing to entertain the possibility that this boundary-breaking marks the in-breaking of God. We might think that people in the ancient world were more likely to embrace the miraculous. But the steward’s reaction tells us otherwise because he tries to reshape the miracle to refit what he knows to be true, whereas the disciples allow their experience to be reshaped by this extraordinary transformation of water into wine.
This miracle presents a challenge to us because it calls into question conventional assumptions about order and control, about what is possible, and about where God is found and how God is known. Scarcity becomes abundance when it is transformed by God.
How do we sit with the dissonance of this story which seems to transcend what we know about how things work? Do we find it puzzling, or embarrassing perhaps, or try to fit it into some kind of rational explanation, like the steward? Or can we just receive – and perceive with our heart rather than our head, the extraordinary gift that this sign offers? On the one hand, we can marvel at the extravagance of Jesus’ act, which suggests the unlimited gifts that he makes available. On the other hand, should we consider what power dynamics, social structures and expectations are being subverted by both stories. And what implications does this have for us and the way we lead our lives?
The wedding at Cana points us to the feast of abundance at the end of time, where all are welcome and no one is left wanting, or left outside. As a church, we are called to offer a foretaste of that banquet here and now, creating a community where generosity flows freely and where everyone has enough. Like the water transformed into wine, what we give—no matter how modest it may seem—can be transformed by God into something far greater. Our generosity becomes an act of faith, and we know that God will use it to bring life and joy to others.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Baptism of Christ Sermon – 12th January 2025
Luke 3:15-17, 21-22
At the start of a new year, many of us naturally think about journeys. Perhaps you’re planning holidays, considering career changes, or just reflecting on where life is taking you. Personally, my recent birthday gave me one of those moments of pause—what will another journey around the sun bring?
Our Gospel today invites us to reflect on journeys, too. We’ve just celebrated the journey of the Magi, those wise travellers who went on a long and arduous journey, following a new star to come and lay gifts at the crib of the infant Jesus. And today, we witness Jesus at the start of his most significant journey: his earthly ministry, launched by his baptism by John in the river Jordan.
Baptism marks the beginning of a new chapter—both for Jesus and for us. It’s not just a ritual; it’s a commitment, a stepping into a life lived in faith. Whether you were baptised recently, like Tara here in church two weeks ago, or many years ago, this is an appropriate time to remember what baptism means and how it shapes our journey of faith.
Before any journey, there’s a period of preparation. Think of a holiday: packing suitcases, making sure our passports are up to date, planning routes, filling the car with petrol, making sure we’re in the right frame of mind, finding a companion for the journey. The journey of faith requires preparation, too. What might that look like, I wonder?
Jesus prayed as he was baptised. Luke’s Gospel emphasises this, showing prayer as central to his life and ministry. Prayer is like the food and drink we pack for the journey—it sustains us, revives us, and keeps us going when the road gets tough. It’s an essential item, something we can’t manage without. It’s one of the main ways we communicate with God, and equally importantly that God communicates with us.
But prayer isn’t just asking for God to help us in difficult situations. It’s as much about listening as speaking, hearing what God might want to say to us. And equally importantly, we’re sustained by other people praying for us. Some years ago, a teenage member of the serving team at my former parish went to Ghana for the best part of a year to volunteer before going to medical school. It wasn’t the easiest thing for an 18-year-old to do and took some courage. She put together a diary for all the days she was away and asked people in the congregation to write down their name against the day they would be praying for her. Knowing someone prayed for her each day gave her strength and perspective during difficult moments.
And this brings us to another point: Jesus’ baptism was very public, in front of a large crowd, not something that happened in private. This is why our baptisms today take place in front of the congregation during a main service. It reminds us that when we are baptised, we become part of a new social world, a community of people who confess the Christian faith. The thing is – just in the same way that travelling without a companion can be a lonely experience, on the journey of faith, we can’t go it alone either. We need one another for encouragement and help when things are challenging, as we know from our experience of life that they can be. That is why we meet here every week, to be in community with one another, to break bread together and to pray for ourselves and others as well as the wider world. I think more than ever we’ve realised over the last few years that we are hard-wired to be in communities – and that we’re stronger together.
Finally, baptism reminds us that God is always with us on this journey, our most important companion. The signs and symbols of baptism are rich in meaning. Baptism is a sacrament. A sacrament is defined as an outward and visible sign of an inward and invisible grace. We make the sign of the cross on the candidate’s forehead, to show that from the day of their baptism, they belong to God’s family. We use the symbol of water to cleanse, we ask for the presence of the Holy Spirit to come upon them, a sign of God’s power dwelling in them; and we give them a candle to remind them to shine as a light in the world and let others see the faith they have professed at their baptism and why it matters to them. All these signs show that God has put his indelible seal on everyone who is baptised as they start their new journey of faith. These symbols aren’t just for the day of baptism of course but for us throughout our life as a reminder of our baptismal promises. Many of us probably don’t remember our baptism if we were baptised as infants, and so it’s useful to revisit them now and again. We can be sure that whatever challenges or joys lie ahead this year, we know that we’re not alone. God is our companion, guiding and strengthening us at all times.
As we reflect on Jesus’ baptism, let’s ask ourselves – where is God calling us to journey this year? How can we prepare for the road ahead, spiritually and practically? How can we support others in their journeys of faith? Let’s begin this year by recommitting to the promises of our baptism, knowing that, like Jesus, we are loved by God and empowered by his Spirit.
And here’s Malcolm Guite’s sonnet on the baptism of Christ :
Beginning here we glimpse the Three-in-one;
The river runs, the clouds are torn apart,
The Father speaks, the Spirit and the Son
Reveal to us the single loving heart
That beats behind the being of all things
And calls and keeps and kindles us to light.
The dove descends, the spirit soars and sings,
‘You are beloved, you are my delight!’
In that swift light and life, as water spills
And streams around the Man like quickening rain,
The voice that made the universe reveals
The God in Man who makes it new again.
He calls us too, to step into that river,
To die and rise and live and love forever.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
Epiphany 2025 Matthew 2. 1-12
As a child, I remember learning something about the stars from my father. He taught me to recognise constellations such as the Plough and Orion – easy to see with the three stars on his belt – and of course the Pole star. There is something magical about stars – the fact that you can see the same stars as someone looking into the sky thousands of miles away gives you a sense of the vastness of the universe. When I first visited the southern hemisphere, I was most intrigued by the night sky and the fact that you can see some of the same constellations even there depending on when you go – and different ones of course! I particularly love looking at the stars here. On some of the chillier nights we’ve been having recently, they are especially clear, and unclouded by the light pollution of large cities.
One of the heroes of today’s scripture passage is a star. A star which leads the magi on a long and arduous journey from their own country – likely to be Iran, Iraq or Saudi Arabia – to Bethlehem. The magi we hear have seen a star “at its rising” or “in the East” – the Greek phrase can have either meaning, so we´re not sure which was intended. At any rate, the magi were in the east, not the star, and they followed it in the western sky to Bethlehem. Various attempts have been made over the years to identify this star with natural phenomena which occurred around this time – comets, or a conjunction of Jupiter and Saturn for example. But Matthew is clearly describing a miraculous phenomenon directed behind the scenes by God, because the star remains stationary while they are in Jerusalem, then leads them not only to Bethlehem but to the precise location of Jesus, where it “stopped over the place where the child was”. Pagan beliefs associated the birth of a new ruler with astral phenomena. And a broad stream of Jewish tradition related the hope for the Messiah to the “star out of Jacob”.
The point is that these magi followed the star – they did not simply admire or study it but acted on the revelation they had received. They embarked on a difficult journey, bringing precious gifts to Jesus. They even went to the point of resisting the enthroned powers that be – in the shape of King Herod, by not returning to him in Jerusalem but going home via a longer route. And their actions are a response to a divine initiative i.e the star, signalling from the outset that birth of Christ is a mission to all nations, not just Israel.
Who were these Magi? Well, they certainly weren’t kings, but rather a priestly class of Persian or Babylonian experts in the occult who were skilled in the interpretation of astrology and dreams. So it would make sense that their story involves following a star, and being warned in a dream about the murderous intentions of Herod so that they gave him a wide berth on their return. Some have suggested they were adherents of Zoroastrianism, one of the world’s earliest known monotheistic religions founded in ancient Persia, but there is no concrete evidence to prove this. The point is that they represent Gentiles who, though they don’t have the revelation of the Torah, come to Jerusalem following the light they have seen. Their goal is to pay homage to the new king.
The magi didn’t have a clear map, but they had faith in the guidance of the star. They followed it – not blindly – but trusting in something bigger than them and it ultimately led them via Jerusalem to Bethlehem. In a world of uncertainty, be it political instability, personal struggles or societal pressures, faith can be a guiding light. Sometimes when we step out in faith, even when we don’t have all the answers, we can find it leads to transformation and unexpected blessings.
You will probably be familiar with the story of William Wilberforce whose actions and trust in God led to the abolition of the British transatlantic slave trade. In the late 18th century, Wilberforce was a young MP from Hull who felt a deep conviction to dedicate his life to the abolition of that slave trade. At the time, slavery was entrenched in British society, driving its economy and supported by powerful political and business interests. Many told him that his campaign was futile and that taking it on would ruin his career.
Yet Wilberforce’s Christian faith compelled him to act. He believed that God had called him to this mission, even though the road ahead was full of uncertainty, opposition, and failure. Over the course of nearly 20 years, he introduced multiple bills to Parliament but each one met with rejection. His health deteriorated because of the stress, and his political allies began to waver. At times, the cause seemed hopeless.
But Wilberforce’s faith never faltered. In 1787, he famously wrote in his journal, “God Almighty has set before me two great objects: the suppression of the slave trade and the reformation of manners.” He clung to this calling, trusting that God would make a way, even when success seemed out of reach. Finally, in 1807, the Slave Trade Act was passed, outlawing the British transatlantic slave trade. Even then, Wilberforce continued campaigning for the total abolition of slavery, which was achieved just days before his death in 1833.
Wilberforce’s story reminds us that faith often requires persistence through long periods of doubt. Like the magi, he couldn’t see the full outcome of his journey but trusted that God was leading him. Today, this can inspire us to act on our convictions, even when we face resistance or uncertainty, trusting that God can work through us for greater purposes.
The magi acted on a sign, embarking on a journey to seek truth and purpose. Many of us today are seeking meaning, whether through faith, relationships or career. The question this Epiphany is – do we have our own star – an inner calling or an external sign that might be leading us somewhere – either to a deeper relationship with God or a more purposeful life? The story of the magi is a reminder that God reaches out to all people, no matter who they are or where they come from. Even if the journey seems daunting, we are reminded at Epiphany to take that first step, to seek truth, to trust in God’s guidance and to respond to the signs he places in our lives.
Here’s Malcolm Guite’s sonnet for Epiphany:
It might have been just someone else’s story;
Some chosen people get a special king,
We leave them to their own peculiar glory,
We don’t belong, it doesn’t mean a thing.
But when these three arrive they bring us with them,
Gentiles like us, their wisdom may be ours;
A steady step that finds an inner rhythm,
A pilgrim’s eye that sees beyond the stars.
They did not know his name, but still they sought him,
They came from otherware but still they found;
In palaces, found those who sold and bought him,
But in the filthy stable, hallowed ground.
Their courage gives our questing hearts a voice
To seek, to find, to worship, to rejoice.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
The First Sunday of Christmas 2024 – 29th December
In today’s readings, we have stories of three main topics faithfulness, generosity and growth.
With the new year approaching, we are encouraged to explore growing up with Jesus and ponder the love, the service and the sacrifice he calls us to, both as individuals and as a church.
First we have Faithfulness:
Samuel and Jesus
Samuel, we read in the first two chapters of the first book of Samuel, was given to God by his mother Hannah. Being granted the gift of a child by God Hannah dedicated Samuel to the Lord and he served at the temple at Shiloh with the priest Eli.
In a corrupt generation of priests, I regret to say there have been corrupt leaders in many faiths and in many generations, however, Samuel stands out for his faithful and committed service. We hear that he continues to ‘grow both in stature and in favour with the Lord and with the people’.
His ability to recognize the call of God will lead Samuel to anoint and proclaim the boy David as King of Israel.
We also have the familiar story of Jesus, aged 12, in the Temple, astounding the teachers of the law with his wisdom and knowledge.
The family Joseph Mary & Jesus had journeyed to Jerusalem as was traditional at about a boy’s 12th. Birthday to introduce him to the Temple and the Jewish faith much as Cristians now bring young children, or older persons into church for christenings, baptisms, confirmation or first communion, as a mark of their passage on their Christian journey.
Jesus is surprised that his parents haven’t realized what he’s about. He is about his Father’s business – not his father Joseph the carpenter, but his father in heaven.
He is about heavenly business, discussing theology with the experts.
Two boys, then, being faithful to their calling. Scripture reminds us that God uses the little to further the kingdom. You are never too young to love and serve God. Fidelity is not dependent on age.
I put it to you – are we sufficiently encouraging of young people?
Do we recognize and celebrate the gifts they bring and their equality before God, and as members of the body of Christ That they entered at their Christening?
Are we prepared to learn from them?
Secondly we have Generosity:
Hannah, Mary and Joseph
These passages aren’t only about young people and the hope they bring. We are also given insight into parents in these scriptures.
Hannah has longed for a child and when one is granted, she gives him back to God; an incredible thing to do! She sees her son only once a year when she delivers his new robe. Her dedication, generosity and sacrifice led to fruitfulness in abundance: three more sons and two daughters.
It’s a surprising truth that the more we give to God the more we receive in return. God has promised that that will be so: WE read in (Mal. 3.10). ‘Put me to the test … see if I will not open the windows of heaven for you and pour down for you an overflowing blessing’
Try it and see! Upping our generosity to the Church, to your friends to charities would be a good New Year’s resolution.
And so to Mary and Joseph. All parents feel for them as they search for their lost son who has been missing for three days. How often I reflect on parents who have ‘lost’ a child on one of the ships of which I was Master, they often had ‘lost’ their child for maybe 10 minutes, they were often frantic. However a quick announcement over the Ship’s PA system ‘would Jonny Smith aged 8 wearing a blue sweater and grey trousers please contact the information desk’ Usually resulted in reuniting the family. The Lost Jonny had been fascinated by some workings of the ship and in his eyes he was not lost – just learning. He was lost for a few minutes. He just disappeared, in the eyes of his parents and they were frantic. However there was no PA system in Jerusalem at that time!
Mary must have been sick with worry and she gives Jesus a piece of her mind when she finds him: ‘Child, why have you treated us like this?’ Such a human response. Jesus, once he’s put his side of the story, is obedient and they return home together. Mary yet again tucks what’s happened away in her heart and ponders it along with all the other strange and mysterious things that have happened with her young son. This is not the last time that Jesus will disappear for three days while doing his Father’s business. I must say often 3 days contemplating a problem – maybe just preparing a Sermon will often bring forward a solution.
I wonder if Mary remembered this incident in the light of the crucifixion and resurrection and made the connection.
Thirdly we have Growth:
Jesus and us
How curious that we should have this reading of Mary and Joseph losing Jesus so soon after we have celebrated Christmas. It’s a reminder for us that the infant Jesus, ‘meek and mild’, ‘wrapped in swaddling bands’, doesn’t stay long in the manger. He grows up and moves into his calling and His ministry. We read that he ‘increased in wisdom and in years, and in both divine and human favour’.
Jesus will also go through rejection and humiliation in order to fulfil his Father’s will, and obtain the salvation of the world.
It’s very easy for us, as did Mary & Joseph, to lose Jesus.
I feel we often try to keep him under control rather than follow where he leads.
But Jesus grew. He couldn’t remain in the manger for ever. We too are called to grow with Jesus, to grow in wisdom and to deepen our relationship with God and with one another, as God leads us into new and unexpected places.
We may not find Jesus where we thought he’d be or where we’ve found him in the past. The work of the kingdom calls us onwards, inwards, upwards and outwards. So, then, as we approach the new year, let’s celebrate the faithfulness of young people.
Let’s take time to consider and review our generosity to God and to one another. And let’s allow the infant Jesus to grow up within us so that we too may exercise a mature, committed and generous faith, open ourselves to change and transformation.
Greetings for the New Year to all those that read this Sermon.
Peter Lockyer
Reader – All Saints Church, Puerto de la Cruz.
Advent Sunday 2024
The first Sunday of the Advent season is seen by some people as the beginning of the countdown to Christmas Day. For some it was last Sunday with the collect starting … Stir up, we beseech thee O Lord … a reminder that’s it’s time to start the Christmas cakes and puddings, if you haven’t started already!
It is certainly a time to prepare to celebrate the coming of God in Christ, but also to look forward to the final coming of God as judge at the end of time. For the people of old, and perhaps for us, too, the Day of the Lord – the time when God will put things right in the world – is difficult to imagine. Yet, the prophet Joel assures us that on the ‘Day of the Lord’ we will know God’s nearness.
As some of you may know, in my working life I was a Deck Officer in the Merchant Navy where I spent many hours keeping a lookout on the ship’s bridge, …. watching, waiting as we Christians will do in this Advent season….. I have a little story I want to share with you…
Early one cold, damp, misty February morning, I was master of a ferry, leaving Rosslare in Southern Ireland heading towards Fishguard – Abergwaun – in South Wales. The cold grey of the sea allied with the mist made visibility very poor. So my bridge team were on high alert and watching , as we made our way along the marked channel both the navigator and myself noticed a very strong echo on the Radar screens about 5 miles ahead in the middle of the channel. We peered into the murk – no sign of any vessel. I called port control on the radio and asked if they had any traffic in the channel but they had no knowledge of any movements other than ourselves. We watched with both binoculars and radar. We slowly felt our way along the buoyed channel, drawing ever closer and closer to the echo on the screens in front of us. Then we sighted it… through the February mist there about 2 miles from us at about 100 feet in the air.. A large inflated heart shaped helium balloon – let loose after some St. Valentine’s day event maybe. Relief all round and a smile as we increased our speed into the Irish Sea.
As I said, I spent much of my working life as a deck officer on Merchant ships keeping a watch for 4 hours at a time – most of those hours I saw too much sea, too much sky, always scanning horizon, would I miss the very thing I needed see? Or if one kept our gaze ahead, would we never know what was happening astern? But often it was cold and damp, as it was that morning off the Irish coast. Sometimes sunny and warm, as it is often here in Tenerife . Patient watching is hard work and it’s easy to feel like giving up.
Advent is the Church’s season of watching and waiting.
Today we start the season of Advent, our special time of watching. A time to be sentinels, keeping vigil with the prophets. A time for standing and scanning the horizon of the world, peering into the immense dark ocean, with only the vaguest hope that something might catch our attention. But what are we watching for? Not for the signs that Christmas is coming, for those are plain for all of us to see: in the onslaught of marketing emails, the lights going up, and the shelves that have been filling with chocolates and other goodies for weeks.
Instead, we are watching for the signs of the in-breaking of God’s kingdom; those glimmers of God’s work happening in unexpected places, and God’s perspective being found in unexpected people. Like that balloon off the coast of Ireland, those glimmers aren’t always going to be easy to find. The world is vast and troubled, and we often wonder if God could ever be present in the vast choppy oceans. And even if God is, we might be looking the wrong way. Where is God in that?
Our Gospel reading from Luke is set just a day or two before Jesus is arrested. The disciples have walked with him and will soon watch as the man they loved and followed is taken away from them; whipped, scorned and hanged upon a cross.
In a few days, they will stand far off, trying to stay safe from the authorities, watching and waiting as hope descends into chaos, wondering where God is, in the darkness of the Passion. Jesus knows what happens, he knows that things are not going to be easy, that it will look like everything has gone wrong and that hope is impossible.
So, he captures the feeling of that time, with vivid images of some future time; a time that will surely be. when there will be distress among nations, confused in the same way as the roaring of the sea and the waves, or feeling ones way through a thick fog. A time when people will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. A time when everyone will wonder where God is!
God is there if you keep a good watch, but even in such a time as we heard in the Gospel that, Jesus tells them, the kingdom of God comes near. Jesus, our guide, points like a compass, to the future horizon and assures the disciples that even in the darkest of all times, you can stand and lift your heads with hope. ‘Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away,’ Jesus tells them; God will be there if you look. Because of this, the disciples, with us, are warned to be on their guard; so that hearts are not weighed down with the worries of this life. To continue scanning the horizon, alert and awake to the restorative possibility of God. Because even if it may look chaotic and hopeless, the days are surely coming, says the Lord, when God will fulfil His promise, and the world will be filled with the Glory of God, as the waters cover the sea
Sometimes that will be hard. Sometimes we might feel cold and damp, or hot and sweaty, our attention will wander, we’ll lose hope in our watching and we’ll want to just give up and go home. But each Advent Jesus emboldens us to stay awake; to reinvigorate our patient vigil on the bridge of life, and to foster a prayerful attentiveness in our lives. Because sometimes, when you watch hard enough, you suddenly, see a small object, like that child’s balloon, and you know that the watching was worth it.
The first Sunday of the Advent season is seen by some people as the beginning of the countdown to Christmas Day. It is certainly a time to prepare to celebrate the coming of God in Christ, but also to look forward to the final coming of God as judge at the end of time.
For the people of old, and perhaps for us, too, the Day of the Lord – the time when God will put things right in the world – is difficult to imagine. Yet, in our Psalm today we read a prayer to God, to help us to keep watch and not to be distracted, to be faithful to His commandments, and to give signs that his kingdom is at hand. Maybe a sign just as that balloon could have been a sign of love.
God has come to us and still comes to us now as a present help in every kind of trouble. The Advent hope is that the Lord God will surely also come again in glory.
Thanks be to God! Amen
Peter Lockyer
Reader – All Saints Church
Sunday 17th November 2024 – Safeguarding Sunday
In a week where the archbishop of Canterbury has resigned under a cloud, we cannot but reflect on that today, with regret and sadness for all those who have suffered irreparable damage. We hold the archbishop in our prayers of course as he comes to terms with the consequences.
The Makin report on the “prolific and abhorrent” abuse by John Smyth of some 130 boys and young men over a period of 40 years makes very sobering reading. I don’t suggest you read the report unless you have a strong stomach. The abuse took place in the 1970s at elite evangelical Christian summer camps, at his own home and at Winchester school. When it was uncovered in 1982, Smyth went on to abuse more boys in Zimbabwe and South Africa. One boy died in suspicious circumstances in Zimbabwe.
I won’t go into details but the report states that “his victims were subjected to traumatic physical, sexual, psychological and spiritual attacks. The impact of that abuse is impossible to overstate and has permanently marked the lives of his victims. John Smyth’s own family are victims of his abuse”. A report on the abuse, prepared as early as 1982, was actively covered up by those who received it, in order to prevent the findings coming to light. Church officers who knew of the abuse failed to pass on details to the relevant authorities in Zimbabwe and South Africa. Had they done so, further abuse and the suspicious death of a child could have been avoided. Makin goes on to say “There were individual failings by senior clergy, and clergy who subsequently became senior. That grouping includes a former Archbishop of Canterbury, Diocesan Bishops and Canons and Reverends”.
What are we to make of it all, I wonder? I think the first thing to underline is the importance of safeguarding. This is not just a woke box-ticking exercise, but something we must all take seriously. This applies not just to clergy, officers and safeguarding teams, but every single one of us has the responsibility to be alert to something that doesn’t look right. And there are well-defined protocols for dealing with any such issue: quite simply your first port of call is Shanon as Safeguarding officer, or me as Chaplain. As we now know, many serial abusers hide in plain sight. Smyth was a charismatic and powerful individual, a QC and a Lay reader. He groomed his victims by first posing as a father-figure to them; the boys and young men looked up to and respected him. Serial child abuser Jimmy Saville behaved in a similar way and got away with it for years. The reason one cleric gave for deliberately covering up the Smyth abuse is that if it were widely known, it would bring the church into disrepute. Just look at us now.
For us as a Church, we are left with 3 key issues to navigate: our credibility, our witness to the world and our commitment to justice, repentance and healing.
Church leaders’ failure to protect vulnerable people calls into question our integrity. As we heard in our gospel passage, leaders are called to be shepherds who care for their flock. Failure to uphold this responsibility is not merely an institutional failure, but a spiritual one. More accountability is clearly needed or the Church risks alienating its members and the wider public, undermining our ability to witness effectively. Someone told me that this week that they’d been asked by a person outside the church about the current scandal. I suspect many of us will be asked what we make of it- and I think we need to have a point of view.
Even more shocking than the failure to act or report on Smyth’s activities is the lack of support for the victims. The report says: “There was little support offered to the victims. Indeed, there is evidence of Mark Ruston being critical of some victims when questioning them. There is also evidence of what amounts to “victim blaming” in some of the correspondence.”
We certainly can’t rest on our laurels with the departure of Justin Welby. If we are to truly repent, that means not just expressing regret but turning away from sin and making a commitment to real change. This means we have not only to acknowledge our failings but make some proactive steps to prevent this sort of thing happening again. These are cheap words and easy to say, but building healthier and more, dare I say it, supportive and inclusive communities is what we should be aiming for. We all make mistakes: “Errare humanum est sed perseverare diabolicum” as Seneca may have said. This maxim means that to make mistakes is a common human attribute (and therefore forgivable) but to keep making the same mistake is a personal moral flaw (hence less forgivable). How many more abuse scandals will there be in the Church unless something at the top changes?
Healing requires both justice and care for the victims as well as acknowledgement of the Church’s systemic role in past harms. We all feel pained and perhaps disillusioned by these revelations. It is therefore our duty to ensure that our church and the Church more widely is a place of safety. I know some have wondered why I continue to emphasise inclusivity here but that is all part of the bigger picture.
Our gospel reading offers a lens through which to view this current crisis, particularly regarding the failures of leadership, safeguarding and care which have been exposed through the Makin report. By using a child as an example of leadership, our gospel writer demonstrates that true leadership is not based on worldly models of power and authority but humility and dependence on God. A failure to embody this humility and a culture of self-preservation have been allowed to take precedence over transparency, integrity and care for the vulnerable. Church leaders should seek to exemplify humility and servant-heartedness, modelling their leadership on Christ.
We heard a stark warning that anyone who causes a child – or by extension – any vulnerable person to stumble – will face severe judgement. The Church’s failure to investigate allegations of abuse demonstrates a profound departure from a Christian duty of care to protect the “little ones”. It is our sacred mission to prioritise the safety and welfare of the most vulnerable.
Finally, there’s an implied critique of hypocrisy in this passage. When the Church which proclaims a message of love justice and care fails to live out these values, then it undermines all that we stand for and makes us look complete fools. The forces of evil must be rubbing their hands in glee at our disarray.
How can we as individuals respond? Our first port of call is to pray. Please pray for the many victims of this appalling man, whose lives have been irrevocably damaged by what they have suffered. Please pray for those whose lack of concern and failure to act allowed the abuse to continue unchecked for so long, and that they will have the integrity to do what is right. Justin Welby should not be the scapegoat for a culpability which goes way beyond himself.
Please pray for the appointment process for the next archbishop of Canterbury, and that the Church will adopt the servant-hearted, humble leadership it needs to regain its credibility.
One way to make change is to stand up and be counted. One of the reasons I was on General Synod before I came here was that I felt changes needed to be made. One way of doing that is having a voice at Synod. I’ve recently been elected to Diocesan Synod for the same reason. Whilst more clergy stood than there were vacancies, not enough lay people stood, and there are still 2 lay member vacancies. Is this something you might consider? If so, please come and talk to me.
And remember, that in all the chaos and confusion, God has got this. The bigger plan may not be apparent to us now, but there is a bigger plan. The restorative and transformative love of God always surrounds us, even in our darkest moments. Finally, if anyone has been triggered or affected by anything I have said, please do come and speak to me in confidence.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sunday 10th November 2024 – Remembrance Sunday
“Patriotism is not enough. I must have no hatred or bitterness towards anyone”. These were the last words of Edith Cavell, a British nurse working in Belgium in the First World War. Her statue stands at the bottom of St. Martin’s Lane in London, overlooking Trafalgar Square. Cavell helped over 200 Allied soldiers escape German-occupied Belgium. Despite knowing the risks, she stayed to care for soldiers from both sides and did not discriminate in her medical work. She was arrested and later executed by a firing squad. Cavell’s vocation to serve transcended national lines and demonstrated her deep calling to care for humanity. Her example reminds us that we are all called to serve beyond borders and bitterness, in the same way that Jesus called his disciples to show compassion to all people, regardless of background, race, creed or colour.
In our gospel, we heard the story of Jesus first calling the disciples. Sometimes people find this narrative a little disquieting, as it may suggest young people going off to join some obscure cult like the Moonies or an off the wall Christian sect. But it’s important to be clear that whilst these fishermen were perceived to be ‘nobodies’ by the wealthy, privileged aristocracy, they were not poor people on the margins of society by any means. Rather they were prosperous fishermen and established members of local society. Simon Peter’s family home in Capernaum becomes a centre from which Jesus and his followers operate. The apostle was married, had his mother-in-law living in his household and may have had children. This detail, along with the fact that pairs of brothers became followers of Jesus, suggests that these men made a choice and the burdens of their choice are shared by their families. This is often the case with any sort of vocation. Although the disciples gave up their routine occupations to follow Jesus, they were not completely cut off from their families.
Just as Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John were called to leave behind their everyday lives and occupations to follow Jesus, today we remember people like Edith Cavell and countless others who answered the call – and who are still answering it – to serve in times of war and conflict. This is a commitment to a cause greater than self, and it is what we are all called to in our own different ways. The disciples were willing to leave it all behind so they could follow Jesus, and we see that discipleship has a cost. In our turn, we must be willing to give something up in order to bring the good news to others.
We think today of the legacy of those women and men whose actions have had a lasting impact on the life we lead today and the freedom we enjoy. Their choices and personal sacrifices continue to shape our present reality, long after their lives have ended. Much like the disciples, who laid the foundations of the Christian faith we inherit today, those who served in the wars left behind the peace and the values that we cherish today.
Think of the work of the Royal British Legion, for example. Established in 1921 to support veterans and families affected by World War 1, the Legion has become a symbol of remembrance and a source of aid for veterans, particularly through the annual Poppy appeal. The Legion represents a commitment to care for those who have given so much to serve their country and is a modern continuation of the call to love and serve others. These symbols of remembrance represent the lasting legacy that transcends past sacrifice, leaving an enduring impact on our national identity, values and freedom.
Memory is central to legacy, which is why it is of fundamental importance to hold this service once a year, not in any way to glorify war but to ensure we do not forget the past. We pause, not only to honour those who died, but perhaps to renew our understanding of what they stood for. By remembering, we carry forward the spirit of their lives, allowing them to live on in our actions and choices.
It’s not of course only about looking to the past. Just as the UK fought to protect freedom and uphold national values in past wars, Ukrainians are now defending their country’s sovereignty and future. Ordinary citizens in Ukraine – students, teachers, engineers – have taken up arms or contributed in their own ways to supporting their country. This mirrors the UK’s wartime stories of people leaving ordinary lives to serve their country. There is a timelessness to such sacrifices.
As we honour those who laid down their lives for a greater good, we know that while conflict can bring terrible loss, it can also strengthen values like solidarity, compassion and resilience. Our collective memory and commitment to peace compel us to stand in solidarity with those still facing violence and oppression today in Ukraine and Gaza. Compassion learned from past conflicts should inspire our actions now.
Just as the disciples left their occupations for a higher calling, we are called to stand for peace and support those who are suffering. We pray not only for those who have died, but for a peaceful resolution to the conflict in Ukraine. We pray for courage, strength and safety for those who defend their homes. This modern conflict is a stark reminder of our shared humanity and of the ongoing need for compassion.
In the midst of all our remembering, we must, however, look to the future. We need to consider what kind of world we want to leave behind for generations to come. Today, we’re reminded of the cost of conflict and the importance of striving for peace. Like the disciples who carried forward Jesus’ message of love and care, we are called to continue the work of building a just, peaceful world in honour of those who have given their lives. I wonder if today we should renew our commitment to peace and strengthen our dedication to trust in God’s ultimate plan for peace. I am minded of the prayer from great English mystic Julian of Norwich who prayed:
“Teach us to believe that by your grace all shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well” – a prayer of hope in the midst of adversity. I will end with a sonnet from Malcolm Guite, priest and poet and a favourite of mine. It’s called:
‘Silence: a sonnet for Remembrance Day’
November pierces with its bleak remembrance
Of all the bitterness and waste of war.
Our silence tries but fails to make a semblance
Of that lost peace they thought worth fighting for,
Our silence seethes instead with wraiths and whispers,
And all the restless rumour of new wars,
The shells are falling all around our vespers,
No moment is unscarred, there is no pause,
In every instant bloodied innocence
Falls to the weary earth, and whilst we stand
Quiescence ends again in acquiescence,
And Abel’s blood still cries in every land
One silence only might redeem that blood
Only the silence of a dying God.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sunday 3rd November 2024 – Mark 12. 28-34
We’ve seen in our recent reading from Mark’s gospel that the Scribes get something of a bad press. From the start of this gospel until the very end, the scribes are described as a group of people who were intimately involved in the conspiracy to kill Jesus. So we might hear this story about an extraordinary conversation between Jesus and the scribe and maybe miss this point. Instead of the usual adversarial encounters with Jesus, this one is quite positive with Jesus saying of the scribe ´you are not far from the kingdom of God.’
This scribe has recognised that in the course of a number of hostile disputes with the religious authorities that Jesus has given some good answers. He is an exception to the rest of the scribes because he is able to acknowledge and repeat the truth in what Jesus says.
When asked which is the greatest commandment, Jesus first of all recites the Shema which we heard in our first reading from Deuteronomy – a summary of who God is and to whom God is (i.e. Israel) – and then a command to love God with all one’s being – God and no other. And then having established God as Israel’s God and the command to love this God alone, Jesus appends a corresponding command from Leviticus “You shall love your neighbour as yourself”.
You may have in the past heard the old adage ‘the Old Testament God is a God of wrath and the New Testament God is a God of love’. I would answer that this is pernicious nonsense which has led to anti-Semitism and that this passage underscores how wrong that impression is. The conversation with the scribe takes place within a conversation about the Hebrew bible. Jesus was a Jew through and through and steeped in the Hebrew scriptures. Disdain towards the faith of Israel runs deep in Christianity and we should be wary of falling into this trap. This conversation happens within the central tenets of Judaism, not at its expense.
What our gospel writer is doing is emphasising the importance of single-hearted devotion to what God intends for humanity. The Great Commandment ,as it has been called ,contains 3 elements: belief in one God, whole-hearted devotion to that God and love of neighbour. What does this mean for us in our context today, we might ask? We do not live surrounded by temples and images of polytheism as people did when these commandments were written. Yet we might wonder if we have allowed good things which are not the ultimate to become the ultimate and defining forces of our lives – nation, occupation, family, political cause, theological system? It’s so easy to let these dominate our concerns on a day-to-day basis.
Perhaps this exchange between Jesus and the scribe exemplifies in some way the living out of the Great Commandment? Even though it takes place in the middle of a long- running dispute between Jesus and representatives of the parties and leaders of the religious establishment, Jesus and this scribe are able to transcend the party strife and cross the dividing line of hostility to confess a common faith. They are able, perhaps, to treat each other as neighbours because they have agreed on the belief that there is no commandment greater than love of God and neighbour. Both have stepped out of the ‘us’ and ‘them’ camp – how difficult this is to do! We see our own Church of England being torn apart by different factions and schism– let alone the huge gulf between people of different denominations, or dare I say it, other faiths! The scribe recognises Jesus as the great Teacher; Jesus recognises the scribe as a pilgrim moving towards the kingdom. Their mutual affirmation is an island in a sea of hostility. Their lived out common devotion to God puts an abrupt stop to the debate.
There’s another point to consider here. When Christians today read this passage, they sometimes think that Christianity differs from other religions in its moral superiority. I suspect this is a hangover from colonialism. However, summaries of the Law that emphasise the duty to love God and neighbour are not unique to Jesus. Devotion to the supremacy of one God over all creatures has been admirably expressed in Islam. Judaism has struggled consistently with what it means to be a people set apart from other nations by God. Compassion for all living beings has been radically formulated in Buddhism. Our Christian faith is not in a moral system that is absent from or surpasses that of all other religions. Truth to tell, other religions may teach Christians how to live out their own moral insights with greater consistency. What lies at the heart of our faith and makes it different is the unique manifestation of God in Jesus, a manifestation that the scribe in this story recognises. But Christ’s manifestation of sacrificial love does not negate the value in the teachings of other faiths. What remains then? Well in this gospel, it’s the passion of Jesus. Not an overthrowing of Israel’s faith, but an unanticipated fulfilment of it. Love of God, and love of neighbour take their deepest expression in shed blood, blood that is life itself.
The scribe approached Jesus with a genuine heart and openness, despite the background of tension between Jesus and the religious leaders. Some questions to reflect on: how do we find common ground with people with whom we disagree? Can we, like the scribe, be open to learning from people with a different perspective from ours? How do we live out the teaching of the Great Commandment with our whole heart, soul, mind and strength?
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
27th October 2024, Mark 10:46-end
What do you want me to do for you?
How’s your eyesight? Reading to today’s passage from Mark’s Gospel, I find myself relieved to be living now and able to access the optician regularly. Getting Older I find my eyesight slowly degenerating. I and I’m sure many of you rely on regular check-ups to help maintain our vision. Those of us who wear contact lenses or glasses or have had corrective surgery know how precious the gift of sight is and what a miracle it is to be able to see properly.
Today those in our community who are blind are generally well treated, medically and socially, but for Bartimaeus, who we heard about in the Gospel reading today, it was a very different story. There was no help, no Specsavers or here in Spain Mas Vision, no guide dog, for Bartimaeus when he began to lose his sight. We know he wasn’t born blind because he asks Jesus to let him see again, but his condition leaves him unable to work, penniless and outcast, begging beside the road at Jericho. Hearing some others talking he hears that Jesus of Nazareth is passing by. Having heard of the reputation of Jesus as an healer. He does everything he can to attract Jesus. He shouts out, calling Jesus by name, begging for mercy. The crowd try to silence him but he screams out louder. He is not going to let this opportunity pass. Jesus hears and calls Bartimaeus to him.
At this Bartimaeus throws off his cloak, may I venture to say possibly his only valuable possession, very valuable in that it gets very cold in high-up Jericho.
Bartimaeus runs to Jesus. How different from the rich man, the we read about in verses 17 to 22 of this chapter, who couldn’t let go of his possessions to receive the kingdom of God.
Bartimaeus comes to Jesus with empty hands ready to receive. ‘What do you want me to do for you?’ ……..
‘What do you want me to do for you?’ asks Jesus.
This is exactly the same question Jesus put to James and John in earlier verses of this chapter. James and John asked for prime seats in heaven: status, glory and fame.
Bartimaeus answers with just four words: ‘let me see again.’ Sight is what he wants more than anything. He longs for renewed vision, and all that will go with it:- Inclusion, wholeness, acceptance and a future. As with the woman with the flow of blood That we read about in Chapter 5 of Marks gospel. Jesus tells Bartimaeus that his faith has made him well. Bartimaeus receives the gift of sight and follows Jesus on the way – not just along the road to Jericho, but as a follower of Jesus himself.
What do we know about Bartimaeus? He was almost certainly a member of the early church because the Gospel writers tended only to name people that their readers would know personally as fellow Christians. The blind man is remembered by name. He becomes a valued member of the community. This fulfils the prophecy from Jeremiah Chapter 31 where the Lord encourages the people to cry out for salvation. In Jeremiah, we hear that people from all over the world will be united and become God’s family and heirs. They will include the blind, the lame and those with children. God will lead them so they don’t stumble and fall. Bartimaeus is a snapshot of that happening – the kingdom of God breaking through in Jesus and a life transformed by healing and inclusion.
What’s your answer?
If Jesus asked you the question,
‘What do you want me to do for you?’,
What would be your answer?
Would you say, ‘Oh, nothing, I’m fine, thanks’ – the response we often give when people offer help and we find it hard to be vulnerable.
Or would you answer like James and John, wanting to be important or special?
Or might you ask for renewed vision – a new way of seeing things, growth in faith or holiness or love?
Or would you ask for something else?
When we come to worship, we come with open, empty hands, wanting to receive from Jesus just like Bartimaeus.
What we receive from Jesus is everything.
How is your prayer life?
Is it cold and distant and formal or is it hot? So maybe Jesus stands in front of you and says,
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Say, “Lord, give me a heart to pray, give me intensity in prayer, I don’t care about things like I should. Give me intensity in prayer. I try once or twice and then I get frustrated. Oh God, give me persistence in prayer.”
Jesus stands in front of us and says,
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Through the Scriptures, through the sacraments, in fellowship within the body of Christ, we receive God’s very self to feed and save us.
There’s a warning to us in this passage. As Bartimaeus tries to find Jesus the crowd tries to stop him. They try to silence him, and it’s not until the crowd hears Jesus calling for Bartimaeus that they allow him forward. We are not to keep Jesus to ourselves, hiding him from others, shutting others out because they make us uncomfortable. The God we worship, the God who saves and is revealed in Jesus, loves everyone. As disciples of Jesus, we are called to make that message known and not to get in the way of God working wherever God chooses. Who do you know who is crying out for help? Stop, listen and respond. Let’s renew our vision and see as Jesus sees. Let’s watch for the signs of God at work all around us. Let’s enable others to engage with God, who in Jesus longs to transform and save.
The priests in the Old Testament, we read, made sacrifices on behalf of the people on a daily basis as a way of being in relationship with God. But on the cross, Jesus is the sacrifice once and for all. Jesus saves all who approach God through him. The cross heralds the transformation of all creation – life from death, relationship from alienation. Making space and time for others.
Be prepared for Jesus to ask..
“What do you want me to do for you?”
Peter Lockyer – Reader
20th October 2024, Racial Justice Service – Good Samaritan
Today’s gospel highlights themes of compassion, neighbourly love and breaking down of societal prejudices and has a fitting ring for our theme of racial justice today. First, the title as we know it, the Good Samaritan, would have startled a contemporary audience because there were no ‘good’ Samaritans at that time. Though Jesus talked about ‘loving your neighbour’, there is no framework in which doing that would have included Samaritans. They were marginalised and despised by the Jews. By making a Samaritan the hero of the story, Jesus was recalibrating what it means to be a neighbour away from location and towards relationship.
I wonder who we might equate with the Samaritans in our time? Perhaps Romany people? Or those who have come to be known as ‘illegal’ immigrants’? Or any group of people I suspect who are marginalised or viewed with suspicion. Immigrants and refugees often face discrimination, suspicion and harsh policies, yet they can show incredible resilience, kindness and generosity even when struggling themselves. Take the example of Hassan Akkad, a Syrian who fled the war in his country. A film-maker in Syria, he documented his perilous journey across Europe with an award-winning documentary series. During the height of the Covid pandemic, Hassan stepped up to be a cleaner in a London hospital to support the overstretched frontline workers. His act of service was a way of giving back to a country that had
offered him refuge and highlights the (often unseen) contribution of migrants and refuges to society. In the ‘Good Samaritan’, Jesus redefines who a neighbour is, free of the trammels of racial and cultural bias.
Let’s look at some of the other characters in the story, the priest and the Levite, who as we know, both chose to pass by on the other side. These are people who might have been expected to help, but they didn’t – and we might ask ourselves why? Some have suggested that the priest hurried on by because of Jewish purity laws, which forbade him to touch a dead body (remember the man was left for dead). However, Luke’s narrative tells us that the priest was going down the road – that is to Jericho and away from the temple in Jerusalem. We might understand that purity laws would be less pressing if he was going in the opposite direction to the temple. The law also made it clear that priests and Levites should care for a stranger – and that would have included checking whether the person was dead or not. If he had been dead, the law still required a priest to bury an abandoned corpse if he found one by the wayside.
So why did neither of these two men stop? I suspect the answer might be fear. The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was notoriously dangerous. There were plenty of places for bandits to hide and we can see how brutal they were to the man who was attacked and left for dead. Perhaps they were afraid that they too would be beaten up and robbed. The point here is that we shouldn’t blame the priest or Levite for failing to stop, but that we should applaud the Samaritan for stopping. The Samaritan’s act demonstrates that his compassion for his neighbour was stronger than an entirely legitimate fear. This is what Jesus is holding up as true neighbourly love in this parable. This kind of love is both costly and risky. It reminds me of an occasion many years ago on a late-night bus in London. Some youths started harassing a young black girl, using offensive racist slurs. Although I was appalled at what was happening, my instinct was to keep my head down and not go to help the girl. Just like the priest and the Levite, I was afraid of diverting their attention towards me. Fortunately, there was a good Samaritan on that bus in the shape of a rather frail -looking elderly man. Instead of tackling the bullies directly, he moved nearer to the girl and started talking to her. I quickly saw what he was doing, overcame my fear and joined in. The bullies soon lost interest and got off the bus at the next stop. The girl told us how frightened she had been and what a difference it had made to have someone to support her. I have never forgotten this incident – which could have turned ugly but for an unlikely person who had the courage to show genuine compassion and solidarity.
The Samaritan didn’t just bandage the man’s wounds; he ensured his recovery by providing for his long-term care. Similarly, efforts towards racial justice must go beyond immediate relief to seek long-term restoration and healing. We’re focussing on racial justice today. We know that although we’ve come a long way, systemic racism still exists, and I’m sorry to say it is alive and well in the Anglican church. Azariah France-Williams’ book ‘Ghost ship’ highlights the many ways in which, despite public commitments and hand-wringing, there are many barriers for people from a BAME background to progress within the Church. Many black clergy who contributed to the book did so anonymously, so afraid were they of reprisals because they’d spoken out. One young black man applied for numerous curacy positions and was repeatedly turned down, despite excellent qualifications and being the winner of the ‘sermon of the year’ competition. One rejection letter he received said they were looking for someone who was a “fit for the local context” which they described as a “white, middle class, British” church. The implication was clear – despite his abilities and training, he was deemed unsuitable because of his race and background. The Church has since apologised, but this incident demonstrates how systemic racism can manifest subtly yet powerfully, influencing who gets to lead and belong in certain spaces. It’s not good enough, I’m afraid.
Today’s gospel encourages us to reflect on who we perceive to be our neighbour and who do we think of as ‘other’. Jesus tells us in no uncertain manner that we need to expand radically our notion of who that might be. Our first reading from Isaiah underscores this: “he has sent me to bring good news to the oppressed, to bind up the broken-hearted”. It speaks of God’s care for those who have been downtrodden
and calls on God’s people to continue that restorative work.
When faced with a challenging situation, do we, like the priest and the Levite, walk by on the other side, or do we allow our compassion to overcome our fear, like the Samaritan?
And of course, whilst it’s good to hold a service for racial justice and say prayers and light candles in lament for the wrongs of the past, we must do more than this to ensure systemic change and long-term restoration and healing. We can all make a difference. What can you do to change things for the better?
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
13th October 2024, Harvest Festival 2024 – Matthew 6. 25-33
I don’t know about you, but I often feel most close to God when I am surrounded by the beauty of nature. We are so blessed in this island to be able to enjoy nature in all its bounty right on our doorstep. I have always loved the sea and been mesmerised by its power, feeling the pull of the tides and the crashing of the waves, simply watching its ebb and flow. Since I came here just over a year ago, I’ve also really appreciated being surrounded by nature in the lovely garden which I enjoy every day; highlights include seeing the stunningly painted Canarian red admiral butterflies – so much bigger than the ones in the UK. It’s a similar story with the dragonflies with their helicopter-like flight – they are simply huge. And I haven’t even scratched the surface of the many natural wonders afforded by this beautiful island.
In today’s passage from Matthew’s gospel, Jesus uses the examples of birds and flowers to illustrate God’s care for creation. God provides for even the smallest of creatures such as birds and lilies of the field and also provides for us in the same way. But, I hear you say, if that is the case, how do we explain hurricanes and tornadoes such as those which have recently devastated Florida? How do we explain ‘nature red in tooth and claw’ where death and struggle exist and are part of the delicate balance of the ecosystem? The natural world is based on predation and competition, but even taking that into account, we can still see God’s hand at work. All creatures are designed with instincts, abilities and eco systems that allow them to thrive and multiply. Predator-prey relationships may be difficult from a human moral standpoint, but they maintain the balance necessary for those eco systems to function. When Jesus says, “Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them”, he isn’t denying the realities of how animals live, but rather emphasising that in their natural state they are provided for by God. God’s provision is not always about ease but about sustaining life through the systems God has created.
If we look at the Florida hurricane, then I think that we can understand from our passage that God is always with us. Natural disasters like hurricanes can be frightening and destructive but they can also be moments where we see God’s provision in how people respond, in the resilience of communities and in the comfort offered by God’s presence. And of course, hurricanes are natural events, the extent of their destruction is affected by human decisions. For example, how we build our cities and towns, how we manage our coastlines, and care for the environment can affect the damage that hurricanes cause. God’s provision is not passive; it often involves human participation. We, as stewards of the earth’s bounty, are called to act responsibly, to help one another and to use our resources to minimise suffering. God can provide through the wisdom, technology and community support systems that help mitigate the impact of such storms.
Not only is it our responsibility to care for our environment, but also those around us who have less than we do. We have collected items from 3 local schools in the past week and from the congregation and they will be distributed to those in need. As we feel grateful for all the good things we have received, donating to others is a way of paying it forward. We should try to cultivate a heart of gratitude rather than worry, trusting that God will provide all we need. When we reflect on all that God has provided both in the harvest and in our daily lives, we grow in faith and confidence in his care.
As is always the case with Matthew, our passage points to another reality. At one level, we are reassured that we don’t need to focus on our day to day needs because God will provide for them. However, there is a deeper level, where we see that our broken world is not the final story, but rather the penultimate chapter. We hear in the book of Revelation that one day God will make all things new, and in that new creation there will be no more death, mourning, crying or pain. The chaos and destruction of even things like hurricanes will be replaced by God’s peace.
God’s provision therefore will not just be for the present, but for the future. We look forward to a time when the earth is restored and the forces that bring suffering are no longer part of creation. In the meantime, we live with the tension of a world that is both beautiful and broken, trusting in God’s presence and ultimate plan for renewal.
We live in a complex world. Whilst hurricanes and nature “red in tooth and claw” are part of the natural order, they also reflect our sinful nature. God’s presence is seen not in the absence of these natural disasters or in a naïve view of the natural world; but in God’s presence with us through thick and thin, the call for us to act as responsible stewards and the way God acts through people to bring comfort and aid in times of need and to care for those who have less than us. Our Christian hope rests ultimately in God’s promise to redeem and restore all creation when there will be no more suffering.
I’ll end with the story of George Muller, founder of several orphanages in Bristol in the 1800s. Over his lifetime he cared for over 10000 orphans. But what made him distinctive was not his compassion, but his unwavering faith in God’s provision. Muller never made his needs known, and never asked for money for the orphanages. One morning, so the story goes, there was no food for the children, but he asked that they should be led into the dining room while he prayed. The staff were concerned. Moments after Muller finished praying, there was a knock at the door. A local baker had felt prompted to bring fresh bread to the orphanage that very morning. While they were still unloading the bread, a milk cart broke down right outside the orphanage. The milkman offered the milk to the orphanage as he would not be able to deliver it before it went off. The children were fed, and once again, Muller’s faith in God’s provision was confirmed.
This story reminds us that we can place our confidence and future firmly in God’s hands, even if we are not sure how things will work out. God’s provision might come at unexpected times and through unexpected means or people, but God is always faithful if we trust in him.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
The 19th Sunday after Trinity: 6th October – Mark 10:2-16
I don’t think there’s any ducking out of today’s seemingly uncompromising gospel, so I plan to tackle it head on. This passage and a similar one from Matthew about divorce has caused the Church until relatively recently to take the view that divorce under any circumstances is unacceptable; and to hold up an ideal of marriage which leaves many people feeling excluded. My mother used to talk in hushed tones about people who were divorced not that long ago. And yet there many people, myself included, who take their faith seriously and who are divorced or married to people who have been divorced. There are some priests today who won’t conduct a marriage ceremony for divorced people. Church weddings are declining; and one of the reasons from data we have in the Church is because people still fear rejection if they or their partner are divorced.
What then is this passage all about, and how should we interpret it today? Context, context, context, I will repeat. We can’t approach very ancient texts and take them literally without understanding what they would have meant when they were written, so please bear with me as we look at that in some detail which I hope will go some way towards clearing that up.
In a familiar pattern, we see the Pharisees yet again asking Jesus a question in order to try and trip him up or make him say something which will anger the Roman authorities and lead to his arrest. The book of Deuteronomy is one of the books in the Hebrew bible which sets out laws by which devout Jews should conduct their lives.
The question from the Pharisees is referring to a law from Deuteronomy which permits a man to divorce his wife if he “finds something objectionable about her”. I wonder what that could possibly mean? It sounds rather open to interpretation and rather flimsy at best. And, of course, this law presupposes a man’s point of view. It doesn’t say anything about grounds for divorce for women. In addition, there was a well-known debate at the time between 2 different schools of thought about these verses. The Hillel school took them to mean that this meant that divorce for any reason was OK, whereas the Shammai school understood that divorce was only acceptable in cases of adultery. Jesus shows no interest whatsoever in being drawn into that debate with them.
Furthermore, marriage in the ancient world for most people wasn’t based on any contemporary notion of love, but rather it was primarily a means of ensuring families’ economic stability and social privileges, by creating children and inter-family alliances. A woman was essentially the property of her father, then of her husband.
Jesus doesn’t get into any of these legal details with his questioners but rather brings the conversation back to God’s design for marriage which we heard in our first reading from Genesis 2. Here we hear of God’s plan for a helper and partner for the man he has created. “Then the man said: ‘this at last is bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; this one shall be called woman for out of Man this one was taken’.” There’s a lot to say about this passage per se but that is for another time. Suffice to say that I do not interpret the Genesis passage as a creation ordinance that allows of a relationship only between a man and a woman. Rather, I see it as a normative example like being right-handed. Jesus quotes this back at the Pharisees to make the distinction between the law as a concession to human weakness and a different perspective rooted in creation. His brief argument describes marriage as a strong and literally unifying bond between two people. It is because Jesus sees marriage in this way that he speaks as he does against divorce.
I think we need to be careful to avoid falling into the trap of making a high theology of marriage which some parts of the Church have done and still do to this day. I would not want to decry marriage in any way, but it is not the only way of leading a fulfilled and happy life. There are many reasons why people remain single which I’m sure I don’t need to go into. And it’s important to underline that unmarried people should be regarded in no way as second -class citizens. Jesus himself was not married, after all, as far as we can tell.
When later in the passage the disciples press Jesus further on the point, he says nothing about the rejected partner in a divorce and his or her remarriage. He seems to be speaking against those who leave their partners for others and suggesting that divorce does not offer a legal loophole to justify adultery. His strongest words are against those who initiate divorce as a means of getting something else, sacrificing a spouse to satisfy their own desires or ambitions.
It’s worth noting that Jesus gives women a place of greater equality in the marriage relationship, instead of seeing them as passive objects to be disposed of as her father or husband see fit. By speaking of a man committing adultery against a woman (and not against her father or past or present husband), Jesus implies that adultery involves more than violating the property rights of another man. He suggests it concerns accountability to a partner, just as marriage does.
That’s been rather a lot of explanation to highlight the cultural differences between the gospels and us. In our culture, marriage is much more about people seeking mutual fulfilment rather than economics. I think it’s safe to say that though divorce still often leads people (especially women) into financial vulnerability, divorced women today do not find themselves to be quite the same social outcasts as their ancient counterparts. I think that Jesus’ teaching might protect women of his time from men who used divorce for their own benefit and put women in a precarious position.
What are we to make of it in our own context then? Certainly, Jesus is holding up marriage as something to be taken seriously, something that is not about legal contractual obligations and economic utility but rather something rooted in human identity. It is not a contract of convenience, casually formed and casually broken. I would 100% agree with this. I am always at pains to prepare couples who come forward for a church wedding to reflect on and consider seriously what they are about to undertake. Of course, we know the realities of the modern world are different from 1st century Palestine. It is always a tragedy when a marriage breaks down, and not what anyone would have wanted, but sometimes it is inevitable. Divorce is painful for everyone who feels its effects. However, God’s will for us is that we flourish; and an abusive or suffocating marriage should never be enforced or tolerated because of passage like this.
We should also be mindful that at the end of today’s passage there is a part where people try to bring a group of children to Jesus and the disciples try to stop them. Here we have another vulnerable group – as mentioned last week, children had low status and value in Jesus’ day. So we can understand that people on the edges of humanity such as children, women and any other marginalised outsider have their equal place in the kingdom of God. The reality of divorce, of not being married, of not having children has made outsiders of many of us at some time or other. I wonder if Jesus brings us back to the creation order not to hold up the ideal vision of a perfect relationship but to remind us that to be human is to be in relationship, however that relationship looks. To be marginalised is to be alone.
The gospel of Mark starts in the lonely places, and ends in that most lonely place, with Jesus on the cross. Being alone is not perhaps what God wants for us. I am not sure that God is necessarily spelling out that there is only one type of idyllic relationship i.e. marriage between a man and a woman which lasts until one partner dies. There are many other different types of relationship. I believe what God is saying is the despite what life throws at us, God is in relationship with us through his son right in the midst of it all, both positive and negative. And that is a great comfort.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
The 18th Sunday after Trinity: 29th September – Mark 9:38-end
“If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them if a large millstone were hung around their neck and they were thrown into the sea.”
Our actions and words have great power to influence those around us for good or ill. Think for a moment of great Civil Rights Movement leader Martin Luther King Jr. His commitment to non-violent protest, rooted in his Christian beliefs and the teaching of Jesus was central to his strategy for combating racial injustice. King consistently preached love over hate, even in the face of brutality. His words and peaceful protests inspired African Americans and allies to join the Civil Rights Movement, which led to major legal and social changes in 1960s America. His message of non-violence and equality resonated far beyond the US, inspiring leaders such as Nelson Mandela. His influence through actions and words demonstrated how deeply Christian principles of love, peace and justice could inspire wide societal change. We can’t, of course, all be a Martin Luther King, but in the words of Mother Teresa of Kolkata: “Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love.”
In our gospel passage, which is quite a difficult one, Jesus is explaining to his disciples about the serious consequences of causing the ´little ones´- which could either be children or perhaps new believers – to stumble in their faith. He uses strong language to emphasise the importance of spiritual accountability. And that applies not just to people like me in ordained ministry, but to all of us. As followers of Christ, we all bear responsibility not only for our own spiritual growth but also for how our actions and words influence the faith of others.
Jesus uses the example of a millstone as a metaphor for the seriousness of leading others astray. Influence can be subtle but powerful. Every single one of us has a platform. OK we may not be a social media influencer with hundreds of thousands of followers, but we all have friends, family, people at work and at church, people we know. Our words, actions and attitudes affect people who are around us, especially those who are younger than us or newer to the faith. Even seemingly small things such as unkind words, hypocrisy, double standards or lack of integrity can make others feel disillusioned or confused. Such behaviour can lead people away from faith or put them off. Conversely, a word of encouragement, a small act of kindness, showing appreciation, setting a good example, listening attentively to someone or offering help can all have a positive effect on someone in our circle. There is no good action, however small, that God can’t use in some way.
Some of you will have heard this story but here’s a small example. I visited La Palma with my son in August, primarily on church business, but also for a little tourism. We were booked on the last flight home, and my son pointed out that we could easily get a bus to the airport from where we were. All day we’d been looking for a BBVA to be able to get some cash, as neither of us had any. Of course, we saw every bank but BBVA and so when the bus arrived, we were pleased that it had a cashless symbol. Stepping forward to pay for our tickets with my card, the driver informed us that he didn’t accept card payments on that bus, and we’d have no option but to get some cash and wait for the next bus in one hour. This would have made getting our flight a little tight. A lady with her grandson was standing behind us and she very kindly offered to use her abono to pay for our tickets- a total cost of 3 euros for the two of us. Needless to say, we were immensely grateful, and this small gesture really made our day and we caught our plane without any worries.
As we heard in our gospel reading, we are called to be salt that hasn’t lost its flavour for others. That involves living lives that reflect Christ and draw others closer to him. We have a powerful opportunity to influence others for good. When we live out our faith with integrity, others can be inspired, encouraged and guided in their own walk with God. We can be intentional about nurturing the faith of others; as I go around visiting people, I hear many stories about acts of service and kindness that often go unseen and unacknowledged, and I am most grateful for them. You know who you are.
Another example from my own experience was on the first Easter of lockdown. Even as clergy weren`t able to go into our own churches. We’d recorded all the services in advance, so they’d be broadcast at the right time. My children were both living in Madrid and stuck there because of the travel ban. I was missing church enormously, and I thought I’d be having a solitary sandwich on Easter day until I received an invitation from my neighbour. They were having a BBQ in the garden, and though I couldn’t go into their house, they passed the most delicious food over the fence, and so I was able to join with them and share their hospitality and companionship. A small act, but it made a huge difference.
Our reading today reminds us of the profound responsibility we carry as Christians. We’re not just responsible for our own faith journey but guiding, nurturing and encouraging the faith of others, especially if they are children or new to the faith. We can’t all be a Martin Luther King, Nelson Mandela or Mother Teresa. But we can do our bit in our small sphere of influence and if we all do it, imagine how that can multiply. This was how the Christian faith became a world religion in the first place. I’m not suggesting that we go around trying to convert our friends. Many of my friends are not Christians and if I tried to do that they’d probably think I’d taken leave of my senses, even as a vicar. But I hope that there’s something about my words, my attitudes and my behaviour that may rub off. I would certainly hope that there’s nothing in the way I conduct my life that would actively put them off or give a poor impression of our faith. Let us pray that we can be a source of encouragement to those around us, giving them strength for the journey. May we have hearts that are sensitive to the influence we have on others, asking God to help us live lives that honour him and build up their faith and ours.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
The 17th Sunday after Trinity: 22nd September – Mark 9. 30-37
Anyone who has been around children for any length of time will know that sometimes their questions can be a bit disarming. “Why is the sky blue?” “Where do babies come from?” “Why can’t I have sweets for breakfast?” “Why do people die?” and so on.
Children often ask such direct questions because they are naturally curious, eager to learn about the world and they lack the social filters that adults develop over time. Their thinking is more concrete than that of adults and they tend to express themselves openly without worrying about the complexities of language or social norms. Children want to understand how things work; they use direct language because they haven’t yet learned subtleties or indirect ways of asking questions; they often seek clarity to try and make sense of new concepts and direct questions help them fill in gaps in understanding; and they can sometimes be a little blunt because they haven’t learned to soften their language.
We have a contrast in today’s gospel between the disciples’ continuing obtuseness and the naiveté and directness of children. Despite experiencing multiple miracles and Jesus telling the disciples that he will be handed over to the authorities and killed, we hear that ‘the disciples did not understand what he was saying and were afraid to ask him.’ Unlike the children with whom they are contrasted, the disciples hear these alarming words from Jesus and daren’t ask what he means. They gloss over the radical piece of information that “three days after being killed, he will rise again.” I wonder why? Once we become adults, perhaps we are more reluctant to ask questions because we are worried about looking ignorant, and how we will look in front of others? In my last church, we tried to have an ‘ask the preacher’ session after the sermon. It didn’t really work because perhaps people were worried about being judged by others as foolish. There were also people who said things like “I know what I know and I don’t really want to know more”. Maybe this sense of over-confidence prevented them from seeking further clarification when it might have proved helpful or enlightening. Perhaps they were worried that questioning someone with authority might seem disrespectful? Or possibly they were concerned about making themselves vulnerable, or not wanting to hear the answer? Sometimes with age, we just become set in our ways and stop questioning things that we have come to accept as normal or inevitable. Children as we know, have, no such concerns! Please do always feel free to ask me questions about anything I have said particularly if you feel challenged by it. I may not be right and I may not know the answer. When it comes to understanding God, there is not one ‘right’ way and we certainly do not have all the answers!
What if the disciples had not been afraid to ask Jesus those difficult questions, I wonder? Perhaps they would have stopped squabbling about who is the greatest! Perhaps they were too afraid of what Jesus might answer? Jesus is quite tough on the disciples in Mark’s gospel, and they are often portrayed as chumps who keep missing the point! They’re probably doing the best they can, as we do. But do we think that Jesus is the kind of teacher who would meet a sincere desire for more understanding with annoyance and dismissal? I don’t think so.
The point is made more tellingly when Jesus holds up a child as an example. Not only are children unafraid to ask difficult questions, but they are welcomed without hesitation by Jesus. In first -century Palestine, children had a low social status. They had no rights! They were viewed as dependent and under the authority of and the property of their father until they could contribute economically or socially to the family. There was a high child mortality rate, and families didn’t invest much in children until they survived early childhood illnesses and the vulnerabilities of infancy. Once again, Jesus is deeply counter-cultural when he contrasts his most trusted followers unfavourably with a low status child.
And we come to the crux of the teaching here: “Whoever wants to be first must be last and servant of all”. How hard this is! It encapsulates a profound teaching about humility, leadership, and service in Christian thought, using Jesus as the ultimate example through his life and teaching. Throughout the Gospels, Jesus consistently puts others first, serving the sick, the poor and the marginalised. It is the idea that true greatness comes not from power or status, but from serving others. It calls for a reversal of common values and challenges us to live with compassion and humility following the example of Jesus.
I will end with a couple of stories.
There was once a famous CEO of a large company who was admired by many for his success and leadership. One day, during a corporate retreat, instead of giving a big speech or showing off his achievements, he did something unexpected. He went to the kitchen and started helping the staff prepare food and clean up after meals. The employees were surprised—this wasn’t something they had ever seen a CEO do. When asked why he was doing it, he simply said, “The best way to lead is to serve. I’m not above anyone here; we’re all in this together.” This small act of humility left a lasting impression on everyone. It’s a reminder that true greatness doesn’t come from commanding or being at the top, but from serving others, just as Jesus teaches us.
And lastly, a true story about Albert Einstein, who is often quoted as saying, “I have no special talent. I am only passionately curious.” Einstein’s brilliance wasn’t just about his intelligence, but his childlike curiosity and his willingness to ask questions others were afraid to ask. As a student, Einstein once asked his teacher why light travels the way it does, a question that seemed simple but sparked in him a lifelong pursuit of understanding the mysteries of the universe. This childlike curiosity led him to develop the theory of relativity and revolutionise modern physics. While others were content with what they thought they knew, Einstein kept asking “Why?” — just like a child who’s never satisfied with surface answers.
Einstein’s relentless questioning and curiosity remind us of the importance of staying humble, being open to new ideas, and not fearing looking foolish for asking questions. In the same way, Jesus shows children as examples because they are not afraid to ask, to explore, and to seek answers with sincerity. What if we actually did that?
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Creationtide sermon 2024
Imagine it’s 2040, and you see the following headlines in a local paper:
“Heatwaves greater than 45c becoming more frequent in the Canary Islands”
“A total of 117 people have been hospitalised because of heat stroke in Tenerife during July and August”
“Tenerife wine production at risk because of climate change: wine growers face a 60% loss in wine production because of rising heat”.
“Tenerife runs out of potatoes for the first time in history: rising temperatures responsible for the loss of all potato production on the island”.
If you think this sounds a little far-fetched, did you know that Tenerife, along with Barcelona and Cádiz, is one of the 3 territories in Spain that could suffer most from a rise in sea level, caused by the melting of the solar ice caps? Some 1500 Km of Canary Islands coastline is at high risk of disappearing altogether. Not only that, our island is highly vulnerable to heatwaves and Saharan dust events because of its proximity to the Sahara desert. We saw the ill effects of last year’s heatwave in the fires which raged through our island. Not only do heatwaves have a negative impact on human health, but they also have a damaging effect on other species and infrastructure such as hospitals, transport and energy. Drought and lack of water is a serious issue for us here.
We are now in the season of the Church’s year known as Creationtide, a time dedicated to God as creator and sustainer of life. You may be thinking is this another ‘woke’ initiative from a church that bends too easily to the latest big thing or liberal anxiety. But it’s nothing new! The Church has always been deeply and intimately connected with the land we inhabit. The Book of Common Prayer contains prayers for fair weather, prayers for rain and prayers in times of famine. Rogation days (now there’s a blast from the past, anyone remember those?) were appointed for prayer and fasting to ask God for a good harvest. In the Yorkshire village where I grew up, we had Plough Sunday in January. An old-fashioned hand plough was brought into church and we prayed ‘God speed the plough’ over it, as we hoped for a good yield for our farmers.
In 1984, the Church developed what is now known as the five marks of mission, which are the following:
-to proclaim the Good News of the kingdom
-to teach baptise and nurture new believers
-to respond to human need by loving service
-to seek to transform unjust structures of society, to challenge violence of every kind and to pursue peace and reconciliation
-to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and to sustain and renew the life of the earth.
This last one is the one which concerns us today.
Let’s have a look at what our Hebrew Bible reading tells us about how we should be taking care of our fragile planet. First of all, we are told that humankind is given dominion over animals, birds, fish, insects and so forth. But dominion implies responsibility. Humanity is entrusted with the care of creation, not just to use it for our own ends but to care for its well-being. We are stewards of the earth and must manage its resources with care.
We hear that “ God saw everything that he had made, and it was very good.” The natural world is inherently good. Preserving the beauty and balance of nature can be seen as a form of honouring God’s work, and it’s something we should take seriously.
We hear how God rested on the seventh day (this is not of course intended to be understood literally). Just as God rested, humans must allow the environment a period of rest and recovery. Overexploitation and unsustainable practices harm the earth. Humans are a part of a larger creation. Humankind does not exist in isolation and so we need to understand that caring for creation is intimately linked to human flourishing.
There is a sense from our reading of great abundance in nature and that it is intended to sustain life. However, there is also an idea that this generosity of creation must not be taken for granted or abused. We have a Christian duty to ensure that these resources are preserved and shared responsibly for future generations.
So looking after our planet is not optional, it’s a fundamental duty to do our bit where we can. As a church, we have recently formed an eco group with our Lutheran colleagues, to see how we can make changes in this place which will have a direct impact on the environment. One major project we are considering is solar panels which would go on the roof of the parsonage and which have some major benefits. The sun is a sustainable source of energy as it is abundant (especially here) and inexhaustible. Solar power is clean and produces no pollution. It reduces greenhouse gases and contributes to the fight against climate change and air pollution. Once we have recovered our initial investment – in about 3 years- our energy will become free, making us sustainable way into the future. Solar panels require minimum maintenance, and last between 25 and 30 years, with occasional cleaning and inverter replacements needed. Some will object and say that the production of solar panels has an environmental footprint. This is true, but it is much smaller than that of fossil fuel generation. As technology advances, recycling and manufacturing processes are improving to reduce waste and emissions. Over their lifetime, solar panels offset many times the energy that goes into their production, making them a net positive for the environment. The overall case for solar panels remains strong, particularly in our context where there is a lot of sun.
In addition to this large project, we are also exploring smaller ways in which we can make a difference: for example getting rid of single-use plastic bottles and purchase of water butts to collect rain water amongst other things. We will shortly make some prayers of individual commitment in our intercessions. These are small ways in which we can make our own difference to climate change: such as turning off lights, walking or taking the bus instead of driving, going meat-free once a week, recycling more and so on. You may think that your contribution will not make much difference, but it will! Individual actions, when multiplied across millions or billions of people can create significant positive change. Not only do we have a Christian moral responsibility to do this, but we can and should lead by example. Change often begins at grassroots level and individual efforts can inspire community initiatives, influence corporate practices and even pressure governments to adopt more sustainable practices. Just look at the revolution in brands reducing packaging waste. If you think the recycling in Puerto just gets dumped in landfill, I have it on good authority that it doesn’t. We have invited a spokesperson from the local waste management services to come and talk to us and answer questions on this topic.
I hope some of these ideas will be a springboard to inspire us all to do more. Creationtide calls us to consider afresh our connection to and reliance on the world we live in; to renew our relationship with the environment that is deeply rooted in the Church of England’s heritage and spirituality; and to handle with care the world we pass on to our children and grandchildren.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
15th Sunday after Trinity – Mark 7. 24-end: Syro-Phoenician woman & deaf/dumb man
There is a Zen parable about a Chinese farmer whose horse runs away. His neighbours come to express their sympathy, saying how unfortunate it is. The farmer replies, “Maybe.” The next day, the horse returns, bringing with it several wild horses. The neighbours congratulate him on his good fortune, and again he replies, “Maybe.” The day after that, his son tries to ride one of the wild horses, is thrown off, and breaks his leg. The neighbours come to offer their sympathy for this misfortune, and the farmer again says, “Maybe.” The next day, the army comes to conscript all the able-bodied young men, but the farmer’s son is spared because of his broken leg. Again, the neighbours come to congratulate him, and he replies, “Maybe. This story teaches that what can seem to be profound good or bad fortune, can change with time and perspective. The farmer’s calm acceptance of matters reflects a deep wisdom in understanding that things are not always as they seem. This links to today’s gospel stories in which an apparent rejection or a disability might seem insurmountable obstacles, but in the end they lead to healing and transformation.
What a very difficult story the first one is! And it has caused many scholars no end of embarrassment and scratching of heads to try and explain what is going on here. So let’s try and unpack it a little. First of all, Jesus and the disciples find themselves in Gentile territory, as we hear that they are in the district of Tyre and Sidon. Then a woman comes out begging Jesus to heal her daughter. Two very inappropriate factors are here…. To start with, in 1st century middle eastern culture, women on their own did not approach men and randomly speak to them; and such a woman would certainly not approach a man who appears to be in a position of some authority. Nor did Gentiles have very much to do with Jews and vice versa – so we have two huge cultural taboos here from the outset.
Jesus completely ignores her at first and the disciples are similarly standoffish. We are told that Jesus didn’t want anyone to know he was there – perhaps he was tired and needed some down time. Not only does he begin by ignoring her, but then speaks to her quite rudely, comparing Jews to children and Gentiles to dogs. He does use a word in Greek for ‘small dogs’ but it doesn’t really have the affectionate meaning of say puppies. Jews didn’t keep dogs as household pets, though Gentiles did. Jesus certainly isn’t referring to the packs of wild dogs that roamed around in 1st century Palestine and perhaps he is relating this to a Gentile context which the woman would understand.
She doesn’t seem to be offended by the analogy and persists in pleading her case, perhaps because she is desperate for her daughter to be healed. She replies that even dogs can eat the crumbs from the children’s table. Such a persistent struggle in prayer is seen by Jesus as having great faith, and so he immediately heals her sick daughter.
I think if we try to understand this as a literal reporting of events, we run into all sorts of difficult questions. Why is Jesus so harsh and offensive to this person? Does she get the better of him in an argument and persuade him to do something he didn’t want to do? How did a Gentile woman come to have faith in Jesus ? And so on.
So rather than see this as a report, we might see that the woman is present in the story to illustrate some key points about the meaning of God’s saving history and the meaning of human faith.
Firstly, God has a plan for salvation in which it is first offered to the Jews, and then broadened to include all nations. Secondly, that struggling with God in a respectful way, trying to understand and not giving up is really important and seen as a sign of great faith rather than unbelief. This foreign woman who is an outsider has been shown to have more faith than many of the Jews. Mark addresses our false assumptions about what faith is. We think we know what it is, but our main problem is that we don’t have enough of it. Lastly, we shouldn’t lose sight of the fact that this woman of great faith is a Gentile woman, doubly an outsider. And we should be careful not to think that Jesus is being sexist and racist and that she has caught him out in a bad mood or with his compassion down. Rather it is an example which challenges the sexism and racism of readers, both ancient and modern. It’s very easy to consider those of different gender and ethnicity as the ‘other’ and somehow more distant from God than our own group.
The next healing is of a deaf and dumb man. We don’t know very much about this man, as he has been brought forward by the crowd. In a similar way to the healing of Jairus daughter which we heard a few weeks ago, Jesus goes away from the crowd to heal this man: ‘ he took him aside in private’, he gives the command in Aramaic and the person immediately demonstrates that he has been healed; and Jesus commands individuals to remain silent about the miracle. ‘Jesus ordered them to tell no-one’.
Like blindness, hearing and speech have a symbolic role to play in Mark’s narrative. The Syro-Phoenician woman was so skilled in speech that Jesus healed her daughter. Jesus’ disciples, on the other hand, keep struggling to understand what he says to them, and perhaps need some healing which will enable them to hear what he is telling them so they do understand.
Speech is vital for understanding. Young children, for example, learn how the world around them works – whether that’s the physical world or the world of human interactions – by repeating everything they hear. The healing of this deaf and dumb man is more than a physical healing but a sign of spiritual restoration. This healing represents the opening up of people’s hearts and minds to the truth of God’s kingdom. And it’s not just about the opening of people’s ears to hear the good news, but their tongues to proclaim it as well.
In Mark’s gospel, it’s often the outsiders who exhibit faith and receive healing, while the religious leaders and Jesus’ own disciples battle with spiritual deafness and muteness. The Syro-Phoenican woman is a double outsider, as we have seen. In a culture where women, and especially Gentile women had little standing, and were often marginalised, her boldness in approaching Jesus is startling. Even after a somewhat discouraging response from Jesus, she is persistent, and is rewarded. She models persistence in prayer, and we should take encouragement from that, especially if we feel that there’s a delay in our prayers being answered, or circumstances seem to be disheartening. God’s grace is available to all, even the people who seem to be outsiders. Genuine faith will never be turned away.
Being deaf and dumb in Mark’s Gospel serves as a metaphor for a spiritual condition. It challenges us all to examine whether we are truly listening to and understanding Jesus’ message and whether we are communicating it to others effectively.
As we have seen with these two healing stories, initial appearances or judgements are not necessarily the full story, like our Chinese farmer and his horse. God’s work may be hidden beneath the surface, requiring patience, faith and humility to understand fully.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
14th Sunday after Trinity – Sermon 1 Sept 2024 —– ADVENTURE
When did you last have an adventure?
When did you do something new or risky or scary?
Something that made your heart beat fast and your adrenalin rush, that challenged your ideas and took you way beyond your comfort zone into a new place.
Many young people and some not so young, are really good at having adventures – off on gap years, travelling the world, working for charities, backpacking, leaving home and learning new things regularly.
Many people relish the thrill and the challenge of adventure. We see many adventurous persons paragliding off the cliffs of La Paz here in Puerto. Or trekking on the steep slopes of El Teide, If only more of us could have such opportunities.
There is another adventure: The Christian faith is an adventure – a challenge, a thrill, a quest. A journey on which new things are learnt, new places discovered.
I wonder how many people who are not Christians would look at us and see the excitement, commitment and passion that adventure demands.
Is that what others see in us? I wonder?
We read of Adventurous encounters In Mark’s Gospel – just before the passage set for today – Jesus has been travelling in the countryside and wherever he goes ordinary people rush to him, reach for him. Just by touching the fringe of his cloak, Mark tells us, they were healed.
What adventures! Life-changing moments for ordinary people, not educated in the ways of the Hebrew Scriptures, Gentiles, many others not welcome in the Temple, many deemed unclean. Compare this with the Pharisees and scribes in our passage: the religious leaders of the day, the educated keepers of tradition; knowing the Scriptures by heart, faithful at worship and prayer.
Do they reach out to touch Jesus’ cloak? No, they don’t.
Do they seem eager for an adventure with this man of God? It seems not.
But they have noticed that the disciples don’t wash their hands before eating, and they are here to challenge Jesus on the matter.
Adventures with God have got lost, we read, in the pots, pans and bronze kettles of tradition.
Jesus is exasperated with them – it’s not what goes into a person that makes them unclean and out of favour with God, but what comes out.
Evil intentions come from the human heart and are displayed to the world in unworthy deeds. Jesus lists them: theft, murder, sexual immorality, pride, slander, foolishness. These are the things that make people unclean: unrighteous in the sight of God.
Adventurous actions – James, in his letter to the Hebrews, builds on this. It’s not enough to hear the word of God, Christians must be doers of the word of God. It’s no good hearing the call of Jesus, listening week in and week out to the Scriptures, or Ministers droning on from the pulpit, if it makes no difference to the way you live moment by moment. You can’t call yourself a Christian, says James, and then let your tongue betray you every time you open your mouth.
How often do we speak words that exclude, judge, tear down and destroy others? If we do, then our faith is worthless, says James. Acts of charity are what’s needed. Acts that reflect the generous giving of God to us in his Son Jesus Christ.
So we should give ourselves in service to the most vulnerable, ‘widows and orphans’ says James.
Who are the most vulnerable in our community?
Asylum seekers, refugees, the homeless, those with various addictions, those whom society has turned against.
It’s quite a long way from those pots and pans of tradition, isn’t it?
It’s a challenge, an adventure with God, which I fear has yet to be entered into for many churchgoers. Adventurous living – The reading from Song of Songs is filled with challenge and adventure too. There are various ways of approaching this great love poem. Some see it as a poetic celebration of love, passion and human sexuality. Others an allegory of the divine love for God’s chosen people. For Christians, it can be seen both as the marriage between Christ and the church, also a reflection of the relationship between each individual soul and God.
All these approaches have value. In this passage, the lover calls his beloved to arise and come away with him. Away from the walls, and windows. Away from the tapestry of humdrum life into a new and fertile place.
It’s a call into liberation – into adventure. It’s a call out of winter, out of rain, out of Calima, into spring, where there are flowers and birds, blossoms and fruit – new life: the season of singing has come.
The call is filled with joy and delight for lover and beloved – that adrenalin rush I mentioned at the beginning. This is what the Christian faith should be like for us. Jesus loves us passionately and he calls us to rise and come to him, into a new place, into a fresh beginning – breaking out of our old life, away from those pots and pans and bronze kettles into a new way of thinking, a new way of being, and a new way of doing which is Christ-shaped, modelled on the word of God.
That often means taking risks, being flexible, being curious; willing to move deeper in and further on. Faith is a journey, a pilgrimage, a quest. Listen to God, hear the call of Jesus, respond to the nudges of the Holy Spirit seeking you in love for a new adventure. Be brave, be courageous, take risks, try new things, but think before you speak. Rise up, come away with God on a new quest and be amazed and delighted by the treasures that await.
I am minded of the old Celtic Prayer for the adventurer:-
May the road rise to meet you, May the wind be always at your back, May the sun shine warm on your face, May the rains fall soft on your fields. Until we meet again may god hold you in the hollow of his hand.
Amen
Peter Lockyer – Reader
13th Sunday after Trinity 25th August 2024
Sermon John 6 56-59
In a small village, preparations for the annual Harvest Festival were in full swing. The villagers were eager to celebrate their good fortune, for the land had been kind to them year after year. As they decorated the town square, an old traveller arrived, his face worn from years of journeying.
He approached the villagers with a serious message. “A great storm is coming,” he warned. “The crops will fail, and hard times lie ahead. You must prepare.”
The villagers listened, but they didn’t want to hear his words. They had always trusted in the land’s bounty and were determined to enjoy their festival. “We will go on as we always have, we don’t want to listen to this grim message in the midst of our celebrations.” The festival went on as planned. But the traveller’s words lingered in the back of their minds, an unwelcome whisper they tried to ignore.
As the days passed, life returned to normal. The fields continued to yield crops, the weather remained fair, and the traveller’s warning seemed more distant with each passing day. The villagers told themselves that they had been right to dismiss him. After all, nothing had changed.
But as the seasons turned, the change came, slow and insidious. The crops began to wither, the animals grew sick, and the once plentiful river started to dry up. The storm the traveller had warned of wasn’t a single event, but a gradual unravelling of the life they had always known.
By the time they realised the full extent of what was happening, it was too late to prepare. The village found itself struggling to survive. And in the quiet moments, when the wind howled through the empty streets, they could almost hear the echo of the traveller’s words – the message they hadn’t wanted to hear.
I wonder if there are times when we hear a message that we don’t want to hear and so we ignore it? This is what is happening in today’s gospel. Jesus’ words about being the bread of life – which we’ve heard now over a number of weeks – do not draw all people to him. Today we hear that some people were positively alienated by these words and stopped following him as a result. “When many of his disciples heard it they said – this teaching is difficult, who can accept it?’ “Because of this many of his disciples turned back and no longer went about with him”. They take the meaning in a literal sense, and as we have heard in previous weeks, the idea of eating flesh and drinking blood was scandalous to people of Jesus’ day.
We know that the literal meaning is not what Jesus is really trying to communicate of course. Rather, it’s about the deep intimate relationship Jesus has with his followers who will receive his “saving power” by “ feeding on him”. To feed on Jesus is to absorb his ways, his teaching, his character and his ways so that his mind becomes our mind and his ways become our ways. Because his power has passed into us and become our power, we can have some approximation of doing what he would do if he were in our place. The eating and drinking metaphors express oneness and intimacy.
This is big stuff. It compares the intimacy between us and Jesus to the intimacy between Jesus and God, which is perfect and permanent. When we partake of Jesus’ flesh and blood we establish and remain in this relationship. This relationship deepens and lasts for all eternity and this is what enables us to live forever. I don’t know about you, but I felt that not partaking of the sacrament of Holy Communion during covid almost as a physical wrench. Even as clergy we weren’t allowed into our churches and we can’t celebrate the sacraments on our own.
So Jesus loses followers because of his hard teachings, and they drift away because what is being asked is too difficult. However, he doesn’t swerve from this path because people don’t want to hear what he says and leave. He carries on anyway. He uses this occasion also to challenge his closest followers, to see if they too want to leave with the others. Peter responds without hesitation “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Peter accepts the invitation to be with and remain with Jesus in a deeper relationship. There is nobody else to whom believers can go.
Peter is a man of both strengths and weaknesses. He often gets it wrong, even to the point of denying Jesus at his arrest and trial. But as here, he also gets it right. He knows instinctively that followers must stick to Jesus, so they can enter into that deeper relationship.
I was talking to someone recently who told me that she just talks to Jesus as though he were a friend, sharing day to day worries and concerns throughout the day, or giving thanks for the small pleasures that each day affords such as a beautiful sunset or a butterfly in the garden. This seemed to me a wonderful example of a bright and shining faith and an example of what an intimate relationship with Jesus can be. I felt both humbled and inspired by it.
The bread we eat and the wine we drink during communion is much more than a simple memorial of what Jesus did at the Last Supper. It is about participation. When the believer eats Jesus’ flesh and drinks his blood, the believer and Jesus abide together. Participation in the Eucharist places the believer in relationship with Jesus, and the believer receives life through Jesus’ abiding presence. The writer of John’s gospel makes it clear that what defines faith is the centrality of Jesus in the believer’s life and the believer’s relationship with Jesus.
This theology of the Eucharist presents a challenge to the contemporary church because it makes clear that no church body can claim exclusive rights to Jesus’ flesh and blood, because they are Jesus’ alone to give. I have been in churches where I have been told in no uncertain manner that only people who belong to a specific denomination can receive. On the other hand, I have experienced the sacrament being given to babies and very young children in Africa. When I asked a clergy colleague about this, she replied : “Who am I to withhold it from them? “ Clergy may be given the responsibility to ensure believers have the opportunity to participate in the eucharist. But we should be very clear that it is the presence of Jesus, not clergy privilege that governs the eucharist. This is why when I invite people to the Lord’s table later in the service, the invitation is for everyone without exception. It is not my invitation but the invitation of Jesus.
In today’s reflection, we’ve been reminded of the powerful, yet challenging, words of Jesus in the Gospel of John. Just as the villagers in our story ignored the traveller’s warning because it was difficult to hear, so too did many of Jesus’ followers turn away when confronted with the profound truth of his message. Yet, Jesus did not change his teaching to make it more palatable. He knew that the path to eternal life, the deep intimacy with God that he offers, is not always easy to accept or understand.
We, like Peter, are faced with a choice. When the teachings of Jesus challenge us, do we turn away, or do we remain with him, trusting that he alone has the words of eternal life?
As we approach the Lord’s table today, may we do so with open hearts, willing to receive the gift that Jesus offers—a gift that is for all, without exception. And may we nurture that intimate relationship in our daily lives, finding in him the strength, guidance, and love that only he can provide. Let us remain with Jesus, even when the path is hard, for in him we find life, now and forever. Amen.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
12th Sunday after Trinity 18th August 2024
Open your hands
Every week our ministry team here at All Saints meets to say morning prayer together. This week Peter was leading the intercessions and he used this prayer written by Bishop Jeremy Taylor:
O Lord, you have called me to open my hand,
that you might fill it:
but I would not open it;
I held the world fast, and kept my hand shut,
and would not let it go.
But you alone can open it for me;
not my hand only, but my mouth;
not my mouth, but my heart also.
Grant that I may know nothing but you,
account all things a loss compared with you,
and endeavour to be transformed to be like you. Amen.
I was really struck by the imagery of having our hands and hearts and mouths so full of the things of this world that there’s no room for the things of heaven. This is a problem as old as the hills. Our reading from Ephesians warns us about a similar danger: living as unwise people, distracted by the times in which we live and losing our focus on the God who calls us for his own.
In particular Ephesians warns us about getting drunk on too much wine. Wine that distracts and confuses us, wine that encourages us to give in to our worst instincts. The saying “In vino veritas” suggests that we are more likely to speak the truth when we’ve had a drink or two, and perhaps there’s some sense to that, but I’d suggest that it’s a particular kind of truth.
The wine of which Ephesians speaks removes our inhibitions, silences our conscience and loosens our lips to tell those around us what we really think. Kindness and self-control go out the window in our hurry to give in to our basest instincts. No wonder we’re warned against it!
Our gospel reading talks about wine too, or it’s implied at least. Jesus says “Very truly, I tell you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you have no life in you.”
Of course these verses make us think about communion, this wonderful action that we share of breaking and giving, taking and eating the bread and the wine that is to us the body and blood of Jesus, and I know that others have preached on this over recent weeks, but it goes
further still.
This is the gospel of John, the book that begins not with stories of angels and shepherds but with the simple and profound statement that in the beginning the word became flesh. God’s breath and action, God’s law, God himself, has taken on flesh and appeared amongst us.
Now that flesh, Jesus, is taking it a step further and telling us that we can not only see and touch this flesh but eat and drink it too, making it part of us just as we are part of him. I don’t think that we can really appreciate quite how shocking this was to Jesus’ audience. They were Jews don’t forget, a people who lived by a strict legal system that covered pretty much every part of life, including, especially, the things that they ate and drank. The practice of preparing food in a kosher way emphasises that not one drop of blood may remain in the meat, it is absolutely forbidden.
It must have been obvious to them that Jesus wasn’t suggesting a literal eating and drinking, cannibalism in other words, but to even use such an image as an illustration was horrifying, wildly counter-cultural.
But here is Jesus, challenging them to go beyond the rules and the ways that they have always lived by, to let go of their preconceived ideas and everything that they have ever learned, in order to experience something new, eternal life, life in all its fullness.
Some of the crowd would simply not have been able to make that jump. Their hearts were so full of all they had already learned, all their rules and their laws (none of which were bad in themselves) that there was no space for anything else. Because of that they missed the chance to join in with the wonderful new thing that God was doing right in front of their eyes.
So friends, let’s not be like them, getting ourselves drunk on the wine of this world that leads us to destruction and damage, hurting those we are called to love. Instead let us empty our hands and our hearts so that we can receive the new wine that Jesus offers, wine that makes him part of us just as we are part of him, wine that opens our eyes to see our brothers and sisters however differently they look and act and speak and pray to the people we are used to.
Along with bishop Jeremy we pray:
O Lord, you have called us to open our hands,
that you might fill them:
but we would not open them;
We held the world fast, and kept our hands shut,
and would not let it go.
But you alone can open them for us;
not our hands only, but our mouths;
not our mouths, but our hearts also.
Grant that we may know nothing but you,
account all things a loss compared with you,
and endeavour to be transformed to be like you. Amen.
Post service reflection
If you were to make a list of all the things that influence you, I wonder what would be on it.
Names of people to be sure, family members and friends, people we admire and who inspire us.
But also those who have hurt us, made us hide ourselves or hit out in anger.
There would be things on that list too, music and tv and films perhaps, or animals and nature
and travel.
Together they form a vast tapestry that shapes our lives for good and for ill.
Imagine you are holding it all in your hand.
Clench your fist, hold it tight, everything and everyone who has ever impacted your life and
shaped who you are today.
Now open your hand and let it go. Just for a moment.
Allow your hand to be empty, and then, in your heart, ask God to come in and fill it.
Make space for him first, and then, as everything comes rushing back in, ask him to help you sort through it.
To help you treasure everything that is good and helpful and life giving.
To help you let go of everything that is hurtful and cruel, that leads you into darkness.
Open your hand, open your heart, let God come in. Amen.
Revd Rachel Ganney – assistant priest
11th Sunday after Trinity 11th August 2024 – “Food for the Journey”
Mark’s Gospel is too short. This, at least, is the assessment of the Church of England’s liturgical commission. Mark’s Gospel is much more like a short story than a novel, isn’t it? It goes at breakneck speed – the word ‘immediately’ appears 42 times – and compared to the other three Gospels it is very short.
So you will notice that we have stopped reading St Mark and over about five weeks in the summer we get a repeated presentation of what is known as the ‘bread of life’ discourse from St John’s Gospel. It started a couple of weeks ago and it goes on until the end of August.
For a month or so we reflect on what it might mean if Jesus is ‘the bread of life’. We might notice some of the words in the Epistle today as well because they help us to make many connections. The first couple of verses of the reading from the Letter to the Ephesians: ‘let all of us speak the truth to our neighbours, for we are members of one another. Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil.’
In these few verses we get St Paul at his most practical. Paul is often really difficult, esoteric, complicated and densely theological. Not here. ‘Be angry but do not sin; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not make room for the devil.’
And why?
‘For we are members one of another.’ Making relationships work – this passage is very relevant at this time, or indeed in helping people in any relationship to make their friendships work: ‘do not let the sun go down on your anger.’
How do we live in fellowship together?
How does any friendship work?
Whether that is between individuals, the way in which a chaplaincy lives, or the way in which different groups of people exist together. Well, we recognize that the way we behave matters. Be angry but do not sin, says St Paul.
OK, yet a few verses later he also asks us to try to put away anger, but here he recognizes that relationship is difficult. We are not Mr Spock! Any relationship is difficult. But there is a difference between anger and sin.
We have heard on the news this past week of the riots in England and Ireland. All caused by anger that has been generated, mainly by social media, much of which was ‘false news’
Lots of the great spiritual teachers of most religions remind us that it is not our emotions that are the problem. We are not machines or Vulcans (if you enjoy your Star Trek). The object is not to try to suppress our emotions.
However it is how we direct them that is the mark of our family living. So when I am angry with a friend or family member, or any ethnic or religious group, what do I do with that? ……….What do you do with it?
St Augustine says that we always have a choice. We can turn in on ourselves, we can let things eat away at us, we can obsess and stew. Or we can turn outwards, we can let the light into the parts of our lives that are festering. We can orient our frustration, our anger, and turn it into prayer.
We can only wish that the groups rioting had done the latter. Then turning their anger into prayer and the love that Christ offers, so moving on in their journey into a peaceful life.
We all need provisions for the journey of life Jesus said to his disciples, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty’ (John 6.35). God’s provision is not based on our capacity. Indeed, it is the other way round. We manage because we are fed by our Father. As we return to the dining table, several times a day, we must come, again and again, to God’s table. Because he is the bread of life. And as we gather around the communion table, week by week, year by year, we are spiritually fed.
Those of us who have the privilege of ministering to the dying will know that one of the last things we do, if we can, is give a dying person communion. When we do that at the very end of life it is called viaticum, which literally translates as ‘provisions for the journey’. Whenever any of us receive communion it is always ‘provisions for the journey’. The journey through life towards the kingdom.
All of our relationships, we must admit, now are imperfect because they are shadows of the great relationship which the kingdom will be. But, nonetheless, we live towards that ambition. So when we are angry we try not to sin. We try to open ourselves up to the light rather than closing ourselves in and starting to rot.
Let the fresh air in. Let the sunlight in. We thank God, at every Eucharist, for the provisions for our journey, and as we receive the bread of life, the bread of heaven, each time as if it was the last time, and we set off again, looking outwards, living kindly, trying to put our anger away before bed.
Forward into the future. Eyes fixed on the kingdom.
We had another symbolic example of ‘food for the journey’ at the service for the German Lutheran Pastor who left Puerto a couple of weeks ago; her congregation presented her with a small bag of food – for the journey.
I am also minded of the Great Hymn:- Guide me O though Great Redeemer with the last line of the opening verse:-
Bread of Heaven – Feed me now and evermore.
I will conclude, thinking of the events of the past week, with the words of a prayer I found on the Evangelical Alliance Web page.:-
Heavenly Father, we call out to you in these worrying times of civil unrest.
Amid scenes of rioting, violence and destruction, we pray for everyone who feels threatened and intimidated, fearful and unwelcome.
Lord embrace and protect, encourage and comfort, deliver and sustain.
We pray for all who feel left behind and ignored, for those who have genuine concerns and grievances.
We pray for the spaces and leadership to enable difficult and honest conversations about poverty, housing, immigration, race and religion.
O Lord, we ask for peace, restored relationships and renewed hope;
For immediate calm and long-term resolutions.
Move us from chaos to order, lies to truth, hate to love.
We pray for community leaders, police officers and politicians – grant them wisdom, grace and favour.
We pray for local church ministers, street pastors and chaplains – may they embody your love, life and hope.
We pray for Jesus-followers in every walk of life – make them conduits of your very presence, your words of life and acts of kindness.
Lord give us;
Eyes to see each other in your image.
Hearts which break and beat with yours.
And streets which more closely reflect our heavenly city.
In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord,
Amen.
Peter Lockyer – Reader
Trinity 10: John 6 24-35 “I am the Bread of Life”
In 2024 an estimated 309 million people are facing what is euphemistically referred to as ‘food insecurity’. 24.5 million of those are acutely malnourished children. These are really alarming statistics and very easy to forget or turn a blind eye to. And I think we should keep them at the back of our mind as we think about hunger and satisfaction today from our gospel reading about the bread of life.
So, our story continues. Last week we saw the crowds following Jesus, looking for a sign and being rewarded by being fed from a tiny quantity of bread and fish. They compared Jesus feeding the 5000 to Moses feeding the Israelites with manna in the desert, and as we remember, they wanted to make him king. But Jesus did not want to be a political leader or a king, and withdrew up the mountain to get away from them. He then walks on water and goes with the disciples to Capernaum. But as we just heard, the crowd are not going to be so easily put off – and they themselves jump into boats and head across the sea of Galilee in search of him. The sea of Galilee is in reality more of a lake than a sea – but still they would have had to travel a significant distance in a boat to reach Capernaum.
What follows is a dialogue between the crowd and Jesus – they ask questions and Jesus provides answers. I don’t know if you noticed, but Jesus often doesn’t answer directly but provides the answer to a different question. This is a common technique in John’s gospel and gives an opportunity for a deeper exploration of some of the underlying ideas.
First of all they ask when he arrived in Capernaum and he replies with a response about not seeing the signs and being filled with food and about working for food that endures for life.
The crowd then asks what they can do to work God’s work and Jesus’ response is about believing rather than working – again a somewhat oblique answer.
They then go on to ask for a sign so that they can believe (even though they’ve just had one) and Jesus comes back with a proclamation about ‘My Father’ and bread that gives life.
Finally the crowd demands (rather than asks for) the bread and Jesus says ‘I am the bread of life….’
There’s a clear pattern here – the crowd wants to know something, and Jesus answers with a different kind of information. They are trying to work out who Jesus is based on what they have experienced but their questions aren’t quite the right ones, so Jesus provides different answers to lead them in the right direction. Jesus is trying to correct the mistaken impressions they took away from last Sunday’s text.
Bread is the metaphor. Jesus continues to use the image that comes from the feeding miracle. Bread is what filled their stomachs, and they have become so focused on feeling full and the physical aspect of being fed, that they have missed the point. Jesus then goes on to use bread as the extended metaphor for who he really is – someone who is truly capable of sustaining life in all its fullness.
So what does this all mean for us today as a Christian community? Are we asking the right questions about Jesus’ identity? What is it that nourishes us? And perhaps more importantly – who has nourished us in our own life? I don’t just mean people who have cooked our dinner for us – though that isn’t negligible and may sometimes be exactly the nourishment we need. What relationships and experiences have fed, nourished and sustained us in some way? I’m thinking of the kind of people who are always there for us, who listen to us, spend time with us – who love, teach and encourage us. Maybe just being in their presence is enough – we feel well-fed when we have spent time with them. Perhaps it’s someone who believed in us when we lacked confidence, someone who offered us wisdom or guidance, or spoke a word of encouragement or kindness at the right moment; and it helped us to move on when we weren’t sure to go next. Our lives are fed and nourished by others in so many ways. Have a think about a person like that in your life, and give thanks for them this week.
They were bread for us in that deeper way Jesus is trying to show the crowds. We see Jesus throughout the gospels feeding and nourishing life in different circumstances. Physically, yes; but also through his teaching, his presence, his guidance and his love, as well as through his healing, forgiveness and compassion. This is truly bread for the soul. But perhaps Jesus isn’t the only loaf in the basket. Maybe he is showing us today what that bread looks like so that we can become and be that bread for another.
So perhaps this long dialogue about bread ( and there are a few more weeks of it to come) is about a way of being, a way of living, a way of relating to others as a community. There’s a church in Liverpool known as ‘Bread church’, which meets to bake bread two or three times a week. It aims to be a non-threatening Christian community which communicates a message through the gospel story. It focuses on extending outrageous hospitality to people, and uses the baking of bread to reach across cultural divides. Those who mix, knead and shape bread can explore their experiences; often the congregation includes homeless people, asylum seekers, people with learning difficulties and mental health issues, unemployed people and anyone else who needs space in a busy or lonely city. As you can imagine, it’s a fragile community, but it offers an oasis where all can come and be physically, emotionally and spiritually refreshed. There’s a tragic irony in talking of this in the wake of the appalling scenes of violence this weekend in Merseyside.
Bread church started through the idea that everywhere in the world, bread is a staple of all cultures. Through the simple act of mixing, kneading and shaping -if you’ve ever made bread, you’ll know how therapeutic this can be – something very special happened; stories were told, friendships were formed, barriers were broken down. The lost and the lonely and the marginalised found a place where they were welcomed unconditionally, a place they could call their own when other doors were closed to them. They demonstrated a microcosm of the kingdom of God in Liverpool city centre and exemplified the outrageous hospitality of the gospel we preach.
We should not ignore the physical needs of course, and the millions of people in food insecurity would agree, I am sure. But there’s much more than physical sustenance in today’s message. We need to make the distinction between the bread that endures, and doesn’t go mouldy or stale, and the other type of bread that leaves us hungry and malnourished. And perhaps we can reflect on what kind of bread we can be for someone else this week, this month, this year.
Trinity 9: John 6. 1-21 (feeding of 5000 and walking on water)
There’s a triptych in the Lady Chapel of my last church which features an icon of Christ in glory. Wherever you sit in that chapel, you have an impression that he is looking at you – in a way that draws you in. It bears the words ‘Lo! I am with you always!’ This image powerfully communicates the amazing truth of Christ’s story- a visible window into the mysterious and invisible ‘I am’. I have always really liked it for this reason.
In today’s gospel we encounter two miracles: the feeding of the five thousand and Jesus walking on water which were cut out of last week’s reading from Mark. But instead of Mark’s version, today we have John’s narrative. These stories tell us something fundamental about who Jesus is, setting our faith apart from others. And here, as we shall see, is the link with that triptych.
You may be wondering why those who compile our readings have chosen to do this. I think it’s possibly because the different evangelists show us different facets of Jesus to help us gain a fully rounded picture. Last week, we heard in Mark’s gospel about Jesus feeling churned up to his guts at the plight of the ordinary people and their suffering at the hands of tyrants such as Herod Antipas. John’s Jesus, on the other hand, is presented differently and his gospel has other concerns. . The Christmas reading we know so well ‘In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God’ announces one of the key themes of John’s gospel – in a nutshell – who is Jesus?
Imagine the scene: a huge crowd, desperate for a sign, follows Jesus. They witness an astounding miracle as he multiplies a small amount of food to feed thousands. This act isn’t just a display of power; it’s a demonstration of divine compassIon and provision. The people, seeing this demonstration, think that Jesus is a prophet like Moses or Elijah. They, want to crown Jesus as their king – a revolutionary leader to overthrow their oppressors. But Jesus withdraws, signifying that His kingdom is not of this world.
Switch to the disciples on a boat, battling a storm in the dark. Fear grips them as they see Jesus walking on water. His words, “It is I; do not be afraid” are more than
comfort – they are a revelation of His divine identity. The Greek phrase He uses, “I am,” echoes God’s self-revelation to Moses in Exodus. Jesus, walking on water, identifies Himself with Yahweh, the Great I AM. The glory of Jesus is revealed in and through the storm, just as it will be revealed on the cross. Note that Jesus does not calm the storm, but the disciples are brought to salvation nonetheless.
These two stories when taken together perhaps shed light on our own needs, expectations, encounters and interpretations. As we heard, the crowds claim that Jesus is a prophet and want to make him king. Only in John’s gospel do we hear that this event is taking place near the time of the Passover – that national festival of liberation from a foreign power. And so the crowd wants to make Jesus a king – no less than a revolutionary act in the context of 1st century Palestine. They would like him to be a military or political figure who will serve their ambitions. But they have misinterpreted the sign. They have missed the fact that this miracle demonstrates that Jesus is the incarnate Word, the Word made flesh, the embodiment of God’s glory.
I wonder if we sometimes do this too? Do we fail to see the bigger picture, the breadth and depth of what God is doing because we are focused on our immediate desires and needs? We miss that God is acting for us and for the whole world because we make God’s scope too narrow. This is not about performing a few magic tricks, but something much much bigger. We need the continuing word of Jesus, and the gift of himself in the bread and wine which we’ll be taking shortly if we are to move more deeply into the glory of God. We´ll see this theme explored further in the coming weeks as we have several readings about bread and Jesus saying ‘I am the bread of life’.
These miracles challenge us to look beyond our immediate needs and desires. They call us to recognise Jesus as not just a miracle worker but as the incarnate Word of God, the embodiment of divine glory. We must ask ourselves, are we looking for a genie from a bottle to grant our wishes, or are we open to encountering the living God who transforms our lives? Today’s passage tells us that Jesus will have none of the genie in a bottle nonsense, because God is up to something far greater. There is a much broader canvas, a much bigger picture that we can’t necessarily see. The Jesus portrayed here is not just a historical figure who died horribly 2000+ years ago, but the very incarnation of God. This changes everything. A dead holy man from the past can’t do much for us in the present day. But a risen saviour who has promised ‘Lo! I am with you always’ and who sends the Holy Spirit to be our comforter meets our need for guidance and protection helps give encouragement, hope and meaning to our lives. Let us open our hearts to the fullness of who he is and allow his presence to shape our lives.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Trinity 8 – Sermon: Mark 6 30-34, 53- 56
Have you ever felt completely drained, as though you were running on empty? Last year, during a particularly stressful period, I experienced this first hand.
Perhaps today’s gospel may seem a little dry compared to the dramatic readings we have had over the past few weeks. However, l believe it provides us with an important message about human flourishing which should concern us all. Many dramatic things happen in the sixth chapter of Mark’s gospel. Jesus is rejected in his hometown. He sends the twelve on a mission. John the Baptist is killed. Jesus feeds the five thousand and walks on water. And perhaps the message about health and well-being stands out all the more because it is contrasted with such a period of intense activity.
My experience of feeling completely drained crystallised during a course about mental health provided by the Diocese of London last year. We were asked to explore stress in our own lives. The trainer explained that each person has what she called a stress funnel. Everyone has a different capacity in that funnel. However large our capacity, if the stress funnel is too full and runs over, we will become ill.. We were each asked to write down the elements in our stress funnel. Mine contained the following: retiring from my business, moving to another country, the huge busy-ness for clergy of Holy Week and Easter and the death of a close friend whose funeral I was due to take the following week. When I wrote it all down, it looked like quite a lot of things! And I realised that I needed to take some action.
This is what Jesus and the disciples are doing when he says : “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”. ‘For many were coming and going and they had no leisure even to eat.’ Jesus and the disciples must have felt inundated with the constant press of the crowds demanding his attention. Jesus was, just like us, fully human. He felt hunger and thirst, pain, sorrow, tiredness and stress, as we do, and needed to rest.
Jesus is neither upset nor annoyed that the crowds manage to find the ‘deserted place’ he’s heading to and get there ahead of him. He knows that they are interrupting his retreat because they are desperate to be helped and healed, and because they believe he can provide them with the relief they need. ‘He had compassion on them because they were like sheep without a shepherd’.
Jesus’ reaction is not just about kindness and sensitivity. . He knows that these people are being denied justice and well-being in the domination system in which they live. It says in our translation that Jesus ‘ had compassion on them’ but this doesn’t quite get across the sense of the Greek word which is ‘splagchnizomai’. ‘Splagchnizomai’ means a really gut-wrenching feeling, something visceral. Jesus feels this way because people are vulnerable in a predatory world in which nobody cares much for human dignity. We saw the fecklessness of Herod Antipas in the murder of John the Baptist. Time and time again in Mark’s gospel we see Jesus coming up against the domination system of Rome, aided and abetted by local powerful people, including the Jewish authorities. What we see throughout this gospel is not Jesus criticising Jewish law – he was a devout Jew – but rather a domination system which ran roughshod over ordinary people. What kind of society places people in that position? Certainly not a society which values human flourishing.
Human flourishing is a multi-faceted concept which goes beyond mere happiness or satisfaction. It encompasses living a life that is meaningful and characterised by a sense of purpose and achievement. Strong supportive relationships and a sense of belonging within a community are vital. At a financial level, human flourishing means being able to meet basic needs and pursue opportunities. It means good physical health, vitality and energy. It means living in a safe, sustainable environment.
The concept of health and wholeness are integral to Mark’s gospel. As we’ve seen in the last few weeks, this goes well beyond physical restoration to reflect a holistic understanding of wholeness which includes spiritual, social and psychological dimensions. Healings in Mark are a sign of the in-breaking of the kingdom of God, addressing every aspect of human brokenness. Jesus is the ultimate healer whose mission is to restore wholeness to all of creation. His healings are acts of compassion which reveal his divine authority and the Gospel’s power to transform lives.
Following Jesus is a journey which is not just about physical healing, but about wholeness in its wider context through relationship with him. When Jesus heals people of their ailments, his acts are not just a symbol of the salvation he offers through belief in him. They are part of that salvation.
Salvation isn’t a word we use much in contemporary conversation, yet I think it should concern us deeply. Salvation isn’t something we can put off thinking about until another day; nor is it a wholly spiritual concept. It addresses the totality of human existence – physical, spiritual, emotional and relational. It’s not a one-off event that happens to us when we die, but an ongoing process of transformation; holistic well-being in our present life – which may or may not encompass physical health; and a future hope of being united with God in a state of perfect peace and joy in a resurrected body which will not grow old and decay as our earthly bodies do.
Jesus is saying that it’s OK not to be OK. This is not always easy for us to act on or admit to. There’s a very British response to a question about our health- ‘I’m fine thanks’ which can often be quite far from the truth. When I broke my elbow a few months ago, I was most definitely not OK for a while, and struggled to do the most basic things, like cut my food, squeeze toothpaste out of a tube and so on. I had to acknowledge that I needed help with these things. And my own vulnerability. . I visit people whose physical health is probably only going to deteriorate rather than ever improve. And I often find these visits inspirational. Many people in this situation are finding joy and fulfilment in their lives despite their physical limitations.
And of course there’s a responsibility of any church that conducts ministry in Jesus’ name to follow in his footsteps. Yes, it’s our duty to teach and learn the Word of God, to pray and to belong to our community. But if we are to have that same compassion that Jesus exhibited, we can’t be content with only preaching the gospel to the already converted. We must also attempt to meet the pressing social needs of others, even if few of these people ever become members of the church. In our Council away day a couple of months ago, it decided that we should offer some outreach to those who may be isolated or living alone. The idea is a community café which would be open to everyone offering tea, cake and company for anyone who would like to come along. Already there are 7 or 8 people from the Davida residential home who are interested. I have been involved with a similar initiative in my last parish and it brought joy and friendship to many people. But we can’t do it without helpers. I haven’t been knocked over in the rush so far. . So if you think you might be able to help with this, then please talk to me. We’ll need people to serve drinks, make or buy cake and talk to the guests.
Today we have explored the profound message in Mark 6 about the necessity for rest and renewal, the deep, gut-wrenching compassion of Jesus and the holistic nature of the healing he offers. We’ve seen that Jesus understands our human limitations and calls us to find rest in him. We’ve also reflected on the ways Jesus’ compassion challenges us to seek justice and support for those around us.
As we leave today, let us carry with us the assurance of Jesus’ unfailing love and care. He understands our struggles whatever they may be and is with us in every moment of stress and need. And we shouldn’t forget the call to extend that same compassion to others, supporting our community and contributing to the well-being of those in need. Together, we can create a space where everyone can experience the love and healing power of Christ.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Trinity 7 – 2 Samuel 6
We heard in the reading this morning about a death of one who touched the Ark of the Covenant.
What was this Ark?
The Ark of the Covenant we read in the old testament was the ornate, gold-plated wooden chest that in biblical times housed the two tablets of the Law given to Moses by God. It also contained a Jar of Manna and Aaron’s Rod The Ark rested in the Holy of Holies inside the Tabernacle of the ancient Temple of Jerusalem and was seen only by the high priest of the Israelites on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement.
The Levites (priestly functionaries) carried the Ark with them during the Hebrews’ wanderings in the wilderness. However it was only ever carried by priests with poles much as the effigies are carried through the streets on Fiesta Days here in Tenerife with no one allowed to touch the actual Ark o0n pain of death. Following the conquest of Canaan, the Promised Land, the Ark resided at Shiloh, but from time to time it was carried into battle by the Israelites. Taken to Jerusalem by King David, it was eventually placed in the Temple by King Solomon. The final fate of the Ark, despite the best efforts of Indiana Jones, is unknown. I fear that as it would now be some 3000 years old I doubt that the wood would have stood the ravages of time..Also the Manna would have perished.
Manna now there’s an interesting subject – a white edible substance found in the Dessert – modern science may have hit on a clue as to its origin. In particular, there is a scale insect that feeds on tamarisk, the Tamarisk manna scale insect the secretions of which are often considered to be the prime candidate for biblical manna. At the turn of the twentieth century, Arabs of the Sinai Peninsula were selling this substance as man es-simma, roughly meaning “heavenly manna”. Tamarisk trees were once comparatively extensive throughout the southern Sinai, and the honeydew produced by the Tamarisk manna scale is similar to wax, melts in the sun, is sweet and aromatic (like honey), and has a dirty-yellow colour, fitting somewhat with the biblical descriptions of manna. However, being mostly composed of sugar, it would be unlikely to provide sufficient nutrition for a population to survive over long periods of time, and it would be very difficult for it to have been compacted into cakes.
The entire Tabernacle complex—whose specifications were dictated by God, according to what we read—consisted of a large court surrounding a comparatively small building that was the Tabernacle proper. The court, enclosed by linen hangings, had the shape of two squares. In the centre of the eastern square stood the altar of sacrifice for burnt offerings; nearby stood a basin holding water used by the priests for ritual ablutions. The corresponding position in the western square was occupied by the Tabernacle.
The Tabernacle was constructed of tapestry curtains decorated with cherubim. The interior was divided into two rooms, “the holy place” and “the most holy place” (Holy of Holies). The outer room, or “holy place,” contained the table on which the bread of the Presence (shewbread) was placed, the altar of incense, and the seven-branched candelabrum (menorah). The inner room, or Holy of Holies, was thought to be the actual dwelling place of the God of Israel, who sat invisibly enthroned above a solid slab of gold, Known as the mercy seat, that rested on the Ark of the Covenant and had a cherub at each end.
The High Priest, and he alone, was allowed to enter this Holy of Holies on the one day of the year and then offer to God the blood of the sacrifice scattering a few drops onto the Mercy Seat, This action was totally secret with only the High Priest there.
The remainder of the priests were in the outer area of the Tabernacle, Whilst the remainder of the Israelites were kept outside. I ponder as to whether they were satisfied by just being kept ‘away from the action’?
Have you ever been dissatisfied with a worship service? I’m sure not here in All Saints Church but maybe somewhere else. Today I want to talk about the “right” way to worship. But in case you get me wrong, I’m not talking about the method or form of words. There is no one right method of worship. Rather I’m talking about our attitude of worship. What makes worship meaningful for us? Let’s learn a little about our worship this morning from what we can read about David and the Israelites.
Let’s look first at Characteristics of worship –
In Old Testament times worship was corporate – whole house of Israel – worship can be done individually, but this morning I’m talking about corporate worship. In the Old Testament it was the nation; in the New Testament we look at the church. God designed a corporate dynamic to worship – we gather together to bring praise to God.
* Worship was initiated by a leader – we see David is here the one who leads the people in their worship of the Lord. God desires all things in the church to be done decently and in order. He does not want mass confusion, but to have structured worship. That’s not to say there can’t be spontaneity, but not chaos.
* Worship involved great energy – we read often they were celebrating with all their might – in a good worship service, you should involve yourself as a participant, not just a spectator. We don’t need to perspire, it’s not a football match, to have good worship, but neither do we need to avoid physical expression.
* Worship involved awareness of the presence of God – before the LORD – as they give their praise, they are aware of God’s presence. Far too often we come to worship and never meet with the LORD.
I recall couple of stories – a little boy knelt by his bed one Sunday night and prayed, “Dear Lord, I had a great time at church today. You should have been there!”, or sometimes we are like the Children’s Church leader – in telling her class about Solomon’s building the temple, the children were inattentive. Until, she mentioned that when the temple was finished the presence of the Lord filled the temple. The children got all excited. She soon discovered though, that their excitement was not the joy that God had come to dwell with man, but their delight in thinking about a huge building filled with presents from God.
–which would you rather have? The presence of God, or presents from God??
We also read that Worship involved singing – celebrating . . . with songs – praise is really a celebration. The Jews are a people who know how to celebrate. David was a gifted musician who wrote hundreds of songs. Everyone likes singing – we just don’t all like the same type of singing. One of the biggest areas of fighting in the church is not over who gets to teach Junior Church, or who encouraged the most people to come to All Saints, or who gets to sit in the back pew. It’s over the style of music we sing. Some think we should speed up the music and speed up the sermon. Others think we should slow down the music and still speed up the sermon!
Guess what – if you come into worship one Sunday and we’re singing songs that don’t move you don’t worry, Why?? Because your brother or sister in Christ might be moved to love God more and serve him by the music that doesn’t speak to you heart. Next week the songs that don’t minister to them might inspire your heart! Let’s not fight about music styles, but be one in the spirit!
It is okay to use a variety of instruments in our worship. Some people think there can be no instruments, or only just a piano or organ. Now I’ll be the first to admit, David never used a synthesizer or electronic keyboard – but if he had one, he wouldn’t have had anywhere to plug it in . However I’ve heard Assorted instruments = guitar, drums. Trumpets, bagpipes Harps etc all used to good effect so if any of you want to volunteer with a suitable instrument let us know.
David and the Israelites enter Jerusalem giving shouts of praise to the LORD. I’m not saying we should be shouting in the church service, but it is a shame that sometimes we get more excited about ball games than we do the eternal destiny of our closest friends. We need to care a little less about Spanish or English Football Teams (I know which I’ll be supporting) and a little more about the people of this Island and All Saints Church.
As to choice of hymns you will have noticed that recently we have been including in our services hymns that are not in the red books, the ministry team would appreciate your feedback on these. I also remind you of our ‘singalong’ we need your favourite hymns as soon as possible so that the music co-ordination team can find scores etc.
As many of you here will have been brought up with Church Services and worship as laid down on the old book of common prayer= Morning Prayer, Holy Communion, Evensong (Possibly the most moving service in its Sung form) I am pleased to let you know that a new version has been published to include prayers for our new King Charles III. This book still has all the ‘old’ prayers etc. However here in All Saints we have moved further back – at our Midweek celebration we have started using a Celtic form of Eucharist which I think is easier to follow and I would invite you all to come and sample our ‘new’ old Celtic service at 10:00 on Wedenesday.
I come back to Worship in general and repeat the question Have you ever been dissatisfied with a worship service?
I know I have – in a large cathedral with a huge organ and a big choir all hidden behind a beautiful carved wooden screen but no sound system. The congregation sitting in the Nave heard the singing and the music however they were not expected to take part. Just like a theatre audience or the tribes if Israel not allowed into the tabernacle and not join in with the service. I am minded of the recent Coronation of King Charles in Westminster Abbey – I’m sure that those seated in the Nave couldn’t see what was happening in the Choir and High Altar area. I think those watching on Television saw more of the ceremonial, On the other end of the spectrum I have felt most fulfilled with a service held in a small welsh village where the congregation was encouraged to join in all the psalms, chants, hymns and prayers. I only hope that here in All Saints Church we fall into the latter category. Amen.
Peter Lockyer – Reader
Trinity 6 – Mark 6: 1-13 – A Prophet is without honour
Well today we have a different story from the last few weeks. Following a string of healings and miraculous events, Jesus arrives in his hometown; and despite a warm reception at first, he is ultimately rejected by those amongst whom he grew up. He is unable to do very much other than healing a few sick people. This is quite a puzzling episode, and we might wonder why this happens.
Here’s a translation of the passage from ‘The Message’ by Eugene Peterson. I think the contemporary language helps give us a flavour of what this encounter might have been like.
“Just a Carpenter”
6 1-2 He left there and returned to his hometown. His disciples came along. On the Sabbath, he gave a lecture in the meeting place. He stole the show, impressing everyone. “We had no idea he was this good!” they said. “How did he get so wise all of a sudden, get such ability?”
3 But in the next breath they were cutting him down: “He’s just a carpenter—Mary’s boy. We’ve known him since he was a kid. We know his brothers, James, Justus, Jude, and Simon, and his sisters. Who does he think he is?” They tripped over what little they knew about him and fell, sprawling. And they never got any further.
4-6 Jesus told them, “A prophet has little honour in his hometown, among his relatives, on the streets he played in as a child.” Jesus wasn’t able to do much of anything there—he laid hands on a few sick people and healed them, that’s all. He couldn’t get over their stubbornness. He left and made a circuit of the other villages, teaching.”
What are we to make of this, I wonder? The answer lies in the social system of the time, where social status was seen as fixed – in other words, your status at birth defined who you would always be. There was no possibility of educating your way out of a humble beginning. The people of Nazareth describe Jesus as ‘just a carpenter’; in other words somebody who worked in wood or other hard materials. Jesus would have been called upon to produce things like door frames or other wooden objects. His family would not have been impoverished day labourers, but he would have been, in today’s parlance, a ‘blue collar worker’. His status would have been considerably lower than that of a member of the educated class who could devote himself to studying the Law. So their first reaction is surprise that he is able to interpret the Scriptures in the manner of an educated person. And their second reaction is irritation and resentment, that ‘only a carpenter’ is getting above himself – and they ask ‘ who does he think he is?’
Not only that, but there is a suggestion that Jesus is dishonouring his family. We are talking here about an ancient Middle Eastern honour/shame culture, where honour is a key societal value. Earlier in Mark’s gospel we hear that Jesus’ family tries to stop him from wandering around and preaching in public,almost as though he is embarrassing them. In chapter 3 verse 21 we hear: “ When his family heard about this they went to take charge of him, for they said ‘he is out of his mind’. “
The villagers also cast some doubt on a questionable fatherhood by referring to him as the ‘Son of Mary’ or ‘Mary’s boy’- which may have been intended as an insult. We might draw the conclusion (though we don’t know) that Joseph is dead at this point. Although it’s clear that Mary has plenty of people to look after her, Jesus was the oldest son and as such would have been expected to take his father’s place. Instead, however, he goes wandering off around the countryside, followed by a huge crowd, healing people and attracting unwanted attention from the authorities. This behaviour was perhaps disapproved of by other villagers, and was, we might imagine, a painful puzzle to his family.
The theme of shame and honour runs as a thread throughout Mark’s gospel. The crucifixion of Jesus is a profound public shaming; he is mocked, spat on and beaten by the soldiers; acts designed to degrade and dishonour. Crucifixion was a highly shameful form of execution in Roman society, reserved for the lowest criminals and slaves. In Mark, the crucifixion is depicted with an emphasis on the public humiliation Jesus endured.
But we also see in Mark’s gospel a reversal of societal expectations around shame and honour. For example, Jesus teaches that those who wish to be first shall be last and the servant of all. This idea subverts the conventional understanding of what it is to be successful. Jesus’ miracles often restore honour and dignity to those marginalised by society. For example, the woman with haemorrhages we heard about last week was unclean and a social outcast because of her condition. She is restored to health and wholeness and a state of honour. She can take her place once again as a normal member of society.
What does shame and honour have to do with us today, we might wonder? I think that these themes resonate with questions of personal identity, community values and social dynamics which are as important today as they were in 1st century Palestine. Understanding the background helps us to grasp just how radical Jesus’ teachings were. His counter-cultural actions put a new spin on honour and how it is defined. Jesus seeks out the marginalised, tax collectors, sinners, people with diseases such as leprosy, mental illness and haemorrhages. In so doing, he challenges societal norms; real honour and worth comes from God, not from social status. Jesus embraces shame by turning a humiliating form of execution into a means of salvation, turning the concept of honour on its head.
In our present day, social media can be a form of this same honour/shame culture. Think of “fat shaming” and things like “cancel culture”, which can destroy someone’s reputation overnight. Many people have been ordained as priests in the Church of England in the last week. Some of the women who were ordained dared to post pictures of themselves on social media, only to receive a torrent of abuse from those who believe that women should not be ordained. You might say well don’t post pictures of yourself then, but I think that misses the point.
Jesus teaches that greatness comes from serving others rather than seeking power and influence. This is particularly striking in the wake of a General Election, where too often we see politicians who are self-serving and seeking their own aggrandisement rather than the common good. In the 2019 General Election, Labour faced accusations of anti-Semitism which they couldn’t shake off. This brought shame on the party and public support fell away dramatically. The Conservatives under Boris Johnson were accused of dishonesty and incompetence and this has stuck to them, even with a change of Prime Minister, again putting people off voting for them. . Who forms our government and their values has a profound influence on us all and affects our daily lives and well-being. As the late, great, Desmond Tutu once said “When people say that religion and politics don’t mix, I wonder which Bible it is they are reading.”
We see a deep concern with politics in Jesus’ teachings. Care for the vulnerable in our society is top of his agenda. These are people who are often left behind because they are seen to have little power or influence. Our ethical compass should be shaped by our Christian beliefs: social justice, community welfare and human rights are not optional extras. Moral courage is important too, in other words standing up for what we know is right in the public arena even if we know we might risk ridicule and scorn. We often face pressure to conform to the standards of society in terms of contemporary understandings of what it means to be successful or well regarded. But Mark’s gospel encourages us to find our identity and worth in our relationship with God instead.
In conclusion, the story of Jesus’ rejection in his hometown is more than just a historical event. It’s an important lesson in understanding the meaning of true honour. Jesus’ own experience challenges us to rethink our own perceptions of worth and success.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Trinity 5 – Two Stories of Healing (Mark 5:21-end)
Last week’s gospel story about Jesus calming the storm on the sea of Galilee told us something about responding to the events of life with faith, rather than fear. lllness is something which affects all of us during our life, whether our own or a close family member. Today’s story underlines how responding with faith can be worked out in real life with a story of two very different sick women who are both healed by Jesus.
One story starts and is seemingly interrupted by another. This ‘sandwich’ as it is often known is a common narrative technique in Mark’s gospel, and we will see it time and again over the next few months in our readings from this gospel. It’s there to make a deliberate contrast between the two stories, which are both enhanced and given deeper meaning by being set next to each other.
First we hear of Jairus, an important man and synagogue leader, who falls at Jesus’ feet, begging him to come and heal his extremely ill daughter. Jesus responds immediately and starts to follow this man to his home. But the healing of the girl is interrupted by the crowd pressing around Jesus. A sick woman touches the hem of his cloak and is healed of her long-term ailment. The healing of Jairus’ daughter is thus delayed, and by the time Jesus reaches her, she has died.
What do we know about these two women? Well, the first woman has been suffering from haemorrhages for a long 12 years. We don’t know her name. She has visited doctor after doctor, spending all her money on potential cures, only to be continually disappointed. She has exhausted all her resources and instead of feeling better, her illness has become worse.. We don’t know the precise nature of her condition, but without going into too much detail, we can imagine that it is something gynaecological. Given the Jewish purity laws, this would have made her ritually unclean and not able to mix with people, perhaps adding further to her unfortunate situation. Yet she is so desperate to be healed that she pushes her way through the crowds, inevitably touching and being touched by others as she does so. She’s heard about Jesus, and she struggles through the crowd anyway to try and reach him. She seems to think that even his clothes have magical powers and will overcome any obstacles in her way. Instead of asking Jesus to heal her, she approaches him surreptitiously, as if she’s afraid of being discovered, perhaps in case he might accuse her of stealing something, or want payment for the healing – and as we know, her money has run out.
The exchange between Jesus and the woman removes any suggestion that his clothes are endowed with magical powers. He is aware that the healing has taken place, and asks ‘who touched me’? The disciples are surprised at such a question, because he was surrounded by a huge crowd, all of whom, we might imagine, were pressing against him and touching him. Why does he notice the touch of one particular person? No, Jesus does not possess a magic force that accounts for his ability to heal. Rather the healing comes as a result of God’s saving power, brought near by the presence of Jesus. This woman is a hero of persistence and faith, she just won’t give up. She’s quite bold too – reaching forward as an ‘unclean’ person to touch the healer would have taken a lot of courage. She allows her faith to overcome her fear – there is no doubt she would have been an outcast because of her condition. In the end, Jesus affirms her faith and points to it as the real source of her healing. He also addresses her as ‘daughter’, suggesting perhaps a new personal relationship as one of his family.
The other woman in the story is a young girl of 12. We know she comes from a privileged background, because of her father Jairus, a synagogue leader and influential man. This man would have been used to people running around after him, but instead, we see him throwing himself in front of Jesus and begging for his help. It shows that he is as desperate as the haemorrhaging woman. But whilst he was still speaking to the first woman, the bad news comes from Jairus’ household that his daughter has died. One person’s hopes have soared, while another person’s hopes have been dashed.
A bit like Jesus sleeping calmly through the storm, Jesus hasn’t exactly rushed to attend to this dying girl, but has allowed himself to stop for an important conversation with another person who is suffering en route. There’s an African American song from the time of slavery which says “ God may not come when you call him, but he’ll be there right on time!” Jesus knows he has got this. He asks Jairus to hold onto his faith, a faith which led him to Jesus in the first place. Jesus´words “ Do not fear: only believe” underscore the thin line between fear and faith which we saw last week in the calming of the storm. We could perhaps retranslate Jesus’ words as “Stop being afraid” and “Go on living by faith” to give the original a more accurate meaning. We are talking about the transforming power of Jesus to change our lives from fear to trust.
Even as we hold our breath in suspense about the young girl, we already know the outcome, that she will be raised from the dead, anticipating of course another resurrection. Even as we hear the misplaced laughter of the crowds pouring scorn on Jesus, we know that they don’t know what we know. When Jesus takes that little girl’s hand and tells her to get up – and I like that we have those words in the original Aramaic – our hearts are drawn, even though we know what to expect. Faith is once again at the centre of the healing of this child. Against all odds, Jesus asks Jairus and his family to hold onto that faith.
Illness is no respecter of age, social status or any of the other things which separate us from one another. People do not of course become ill because of a lack of faith. We know that for everyone who makes a recovery from life-threatening illness or major surgery, there is another family whose loved one dies. Chronic, but not life-threatening illnesses can These are difficult matters to grapple with, and I would never seek to minimise them. The pain we feel when we lose someone close is very real. We might wonder where is the faith and healing when this happens to us? I don’t I’m afraid have the answers. Nonetheless if we do live by faith we find that we are set free from fear. We can face the future with confidence, knowing that we are held by God whatever life throws in our path in both this world and the next.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Trinity 4 – Calming the storm Mark 4 35-end (and Rachel’s anniversary)
Some years ago I found myself on a business trip to Puerto Rico, a small island in the Caribbean. It was a few weeks after a deadly Hurricane had struck the region, and I had remarked in an idle fashion to colleagues & friends before I went, that I hoped there would be no hurricanes while I was there – never thinking for a moment that any such thing could happen to me. Imagine my surprise when in the middle of a business meeting in San Juan, we heard that a hurricane was indeed heading for Puerto Rico that night, and I had to drop everything and return to my hotel immediately.
The seriousness of the situation began to become clear, as internet and phone connections were down, as was electricity. It was obvious that nobody knew what to expect, and everyone had battened down the hatches in case the worst happened. I am obviously here to tell the tale, and in reality, when it came, it was the lowest grade of hurricane – rather like a very severe storm. Much property was damaged and one person died as a result of a tin roof falling on them, all serious enough, but nothing like the devastation we had expected and feared. The point of this story is that I have never felt so vulnerable, plain scared, and conscious of my insignificant place in the greater scheme of things as when I was stuck on that tiny island waiting for a hurricane to strike, not knowing what to expect, and unable to contact my family.
I have reflected many times about this experience, and on more than one occasion, it has put me in mind of the story of Jesus rebuking the waves during a storm which we heard just now. Since that experience, this story has resonated with me at a deep personal level.
As the sun sets, a storm gets up, and the disciples are terrified. As seasoned fishermen, we might expect them to be used to squalls like this, but it must have been a much worse storm than usual because they are genuinely in fear for their lives. Notice how they wake Jesus, with a more than a touch of petulance, as he seems to be oblivious to what is happening. Jesus wakes up, calms the storm and rebukes the disciples for their lack of faith, and order is restored once again.
What does this vignette mean, over and above Jesus’ power over the weather and elements, we might ask ourselves. The crises of life which we all face from time to time have often been compared to stormy seas. We experience them whether we like it or not, they can be frightening and threaten to destroy our security and our stability. Whether it’s financial difficulties, a sudden illness, the loss of a loved one, or family troubles of whatever kind, we don’t know whether we can survive them or how long they will last. There’s an obvious lesson here, that Jesus has power over the storms of life, experiences them alongside us, loves us, saves us from them and wants us to trust him more than we do.
Secondly, storms don’t worry Jesus. He’s right there with us during them, but he remains perfectly calm. He is neither frightened, nor impatient, nor worried. In fact, he’s so calm, he’s asleep. We might wonder why he doesn’t get up and do something, or whether he even knows the trouble we’re in. In the disciples’ case, they know he is there because they can see him lying asleep. But we don’t have that luxury. We believe he is there, but most of the time perhaps we might be afraid that he’s just as asleep as he was during the storm that day on the Sea of Galilee. But we are safe in his hands, just as the disciples were.
What does this mean to us regarding our relationship with God, and with other people? What might we do differently because of this story? Of course, the answers are very personal to each of us, but in the context of today’s passage, I am left asking myself in what areas of my life am I tempted to respond with fear, rather than faith? I certainly responded with fear during the hurricane in Puerto Rico. Questions for further personal reflection might be – does it sometimes seem that God is ignoring you when you need him most? Has a trial you’ve gone through made you stronger spiritually? When was your faith most tested? Why does God let us suffer trials if he loves us?
Here’s a story about tightrope walker, Charles Blondin. His greatest fame came on September 14, 1860, when he became the first person to cross a tightrope stretched over a quarter of a mile across the Niagara Falls. He walked across, 160 feet above the falls, several times… each time with a different daring feat – once in a sack, on stilts, on a bicycle, in the dark, and blindfolded. One of his most notable was crossing pushing a wheelbarrow carrying a sack of potatoes. At one point, Blondin suddenly stopped and addressed his audience: “Do you believe I can carry a person across in this wheelbarrow?” The crowd enthusiastically yelled, “Yes! You are the greatest tightrope walker in the world. We believe!” “Okay,” said Blondin, “Who wants to get into the wheelbarrow?” And unsurprisingly enough, no one did at the time. This story illustrates a picture of what faith actually is. The crowd watched these daring feats. They said they believed. But… their actions proved they truly did not believe.
As we’re celebrating and giving thanks for Rachel’s 20 years of ordained ministry, I wanted to reflect briefly on what it is to be a priest. I don’t know if it was like this for you, Rachel, but when I took the step towards ordination, it felt as though I was stepping blindly off a precipice, a bit like Charles Blondin and his tightrope. It required a huge leap of faith. The ordinal – where you’ll find the rubric for ordination services – uses 5 metaphors to describe priestly ministry as follows : Servant, Shepherd, Messenger, Watchman or Sentinel and Steward. Some of these may be quite familiar, such as Shepherd, others less so. As we’re celebrating the 30th year since women’s ordination, I wanted to reflect specifically on what it is to be a female priest. We do it differently – not better or worse, but differently.
One of the best books I’ve read in the last few years about women and the priesthood is ‘Steel Angels’ by Magdalen Smith. She took her inspiration from Anthony Gormley’s Angel of the North which sits by the side of the A1 near Gateshead. The clue to her message is in the title – the toughness of steel on the outside but the grace and gentleness associated with angels on the inside. And an ability to hold the two in tension.
It’s very much a man’s world in the Church of England: there are still parishes which won’t accept a woman priest, and the Church continues to ordain men who are fundamentally opposed to women priests. The tide is beginning to turn, now that we have more women bishops, but the struggle for equality is far from over.
The qualities mentioned in the book are: resilience, empathy and compassion, authenticity, leadership and authority, spiritual depth and insight, adaptability, collaborative spirit and advocacy for justice and equality. Smith sees these as essential attributes, as well as areas where women have some innate skills. She sees resilience as essential in overcoming many of the obstacles we face because of our gender, and which allows us to persist in our calling despite resistance and difficulties.
Empathy and compassion often come naturally to female priests and they are vital in making deep connections with our congregation and offering meaningful pastoral care.
Authenticity is about us embracing our identity and bringing our whole selves into ministry rather than conforming to expected norms. Being true to ourselves is vital.
Leadership and authority : isn’t it still the case that women with strong opinions and who are not afraid to voice them end up being called bossy or strident? We have to strike a balance between demonstrating strong leadership whilst remaining approachable and relatable. Not always easy!
Spiritual depth and insight of course go without saying. We must be individuals who cultivate a deep relationship with God so that we in turn can offer spiritual guidance to our communities.
We often navigate a variety of roles and responsibilities which means that being adaptable to changing circumstances and diverse needs.
Collaboration and teamwork are key. Female priests often work well in collaborative environments, and help to foster a sense of community and shared purpose.
Lastly, Smith talks about advocacy for Justice and Equality: female priests often advocate for marginalized groups and work towards creating a more inclusive and equitable church.
Rachel, as we give thanks for your 20 years of ministry and everything you have brought to this place and elsewhere, we also thank God for 30 years of women’s ministry in the Anglican church.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Sermon Isaiah 6 1-8 (Trinity Sunday)
Today is Trinity Sunday. You may be relieved to know that I am not going to attempt to explain the Trinity to you – I’ll reserve that treat for another year. I’m going to speak about the first reading from Isaiah. Although the Hebrew bible doesn’t have even an implicit mention of the Trinity, the passage we heard from Isaiah gives us an indication of the nature of God and how humans respond to God. It breaks open for us the paradox that at the same time as God is in all things, God is also outside all things. And so this gives us a nod towards the concept of the Trinity.
We heard of the call of Isaiah, and how his life was changed by his encounter with God in the temple. And what an encounter! The prophet enters the temple, sees a vision of God in all his glory with his train filling the temple and being worshipped by six-winged angels. So awesome is the sight that the angels need to shield their faces, the foundations of the temple shake, and the temple is filled with incense. Isaiah hears the call, acknowledges his unworthiness and responds eagerly, having first been cleansed from his sins by hot coals touching his lips.
It’s worth spending a few moments on the context of this call. We’re told in the reading that it came in the same year that King Uzziah died – and we know from historical sources that this was around 740 BC – to give you a frame of reference, that would be during the Iron Age in Britain. Judah had lived in relative peace and prosperity under the rule of King Uzziah, but his death was something of a catalyst for things to go horribly wrong. In a nutshell the book of Isaiah covers a period spanning about 200 years, during which some poor political decisions led to Judah being attacked and eventually overrun – first by the neighbouring Assyrians and finally by the Babylonians. The final humiliation was that the people were forced to leave their homes in Jerusalem and live in exile in Babylon as described in Psalm 137 “By the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept when we remembered Zion”. God punishes them because of their failure to hear and understand his word, and their attitude of spiritual blindness and deafness. It takes many years before they are returned to their homeland – but they do get there eventually.
A bit of a sorry tale, you might think, but not a bit of it: against this backdrop of disastrous events, the words and mission of Isaiah provide an overarching theme of hope in adversity, and the assurance of God’s presence in the past, present and future with the coming of a Messiah.
To return to Isaiah’s awesome vision -I don’t think we are intended to understand it literally. It belongs to a certain convention of writing in the bible, which tells of people receiving communication about the world of the divine through visions, dreams and trances. There are many such examples of divine communication in the Bible –think of Moses and the burning bush or in the New Testament Saul on the road to Damascus.
Isaiah’s vision assails all his senses: he sees God and the angels, he hears the angelic singing, he feels the foundations shake and the touch of the coals on his lips, he smells the incense. God communicates his message in a tangible and experiential way through the Prophet’s senses, and following that experience, Isaiah is profoundly changed.
Today, people often ask where is God in times of great suffering; we’ve seen tsunamis, earthquakes, floods, genocide, a global pandemic, wars and acts of terrorism in our wider world in recent years; at a more personal level, a bereavement, a serious diagnosis or an ongoing illness can leave us feeling bereft, however strong our faith. The point of Isaiah’s vision is to underline that however bad things get, God is always there, and he will not abandon us, even if we are a bit careless of him.
So where are we to encounter God in today’s world? I believe that the Eucharist is one way that we can come right up into God’s presence in the same experiential way as Isaiah. We begin the Eucharistic prayer by saying: “The Lord is here: His Spirit is with us”.” We hear God’s word, we are fed with the body and blood of our Lord which we touch and taste, we smell the incense if we’re in a church which uses it. In the words of Andrew Davison “God accommodates his communication to the means we can take in. In the Eucharist, he communicates his body and blood to us, veiled under the accidents of bread and wine.” Each week, we have a tangible way of experiencing God, if we are alert and our senses are open to it. It’s not the only way of course; God has many ways of making his presence felt often when and where we least expect it.
You will have noticed that the song of the angels in the temple is our familiar Sanctus, which we say or sing every week at the Eucharist. “Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of hosts. Heaven and earth are full of your glory…” and of course that in turn recalls our first hymn. The shape of our liturgy retells the story of God’s past, present and future intervention in our world, and our salvation and redemption through the cross. Our God is not some distant, silent deity, but is intimately concerned with human affairs here and now. Including these words from Isaiah not only links our Christian faith with the past, and its heritage in Judaism; but it also joins us with the communion of saints. In other words, those who have gone before us in faith, our loved ones whom we see no longer. I don’t know about you, but I find that comforting. It also provides a link with the Trinity, calling on the thrice-holy name of God.
In the Eucharist, we meet God, in a very real way, and are nourished and strengthened spiritually. But there’s more. Coming into God’s presence requires a response from us. We believe God is on our side but it’s not just a blind faith like believing in Santa Claus – we need to play our part in what we say and do. Isaiah in his vision was called by God for a specific task and took up that challenge. I don’t imagine most of us will be called to be a prophet! But if we are not to be spiritually blind and deaf like the people of Isaiah’s day, we are called to reflect on our own individual vocation and how that might look in the context of our faith – whether that’s being a Mum or Dad, a teacher, an accountant, a grandparent. The final part of the Eucharist is being sent out to act on what we’ve experienced and know to be true. We are “sent out to live and work to your praise and glory”. Reflecting on our lives as God’s call helps to give them purpose and meaning. It can change the way we do our work, and can transform our homes, our workplace and our community. Where does God want to send you or use you this week, this month, this year? Can we say: “here I am; send me” And will we go?
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
22nd May 2024
In this Mental Health Awareness Week I´ve been pondering faith and mental health.
I was reminded of the day I left Kent and made my way to the airport. I had a rucksack on my back, one on my front and dragged 2 huge cases behind me. I got off the train in Victoria station and wondered how on earth I was going to get all the bags to the platform for the Gatwick train. I was surrounded by people walking along beside, behind and in front of me. “Are you ok?” “Yes thank you,” I answered and struggled on. Did I ask for help? No…I struggled to the end of the platform. At that point a railway employee drove alongside me with a buggy and offered to take me and all the luggage right to the train door. I would have been foolish to refuse.
So what stopped me saying yes the first time?! Pride? A determination to show the world (or maybe myself) I could handle this on my own? I pondered this on the journey to the airport, with a twinge of embarrassment as to why I attempted to persevere when it was so obvious I needed help.
There are times in our lives where we do the very same thing. We lift, and heave and try because we think we are navigating these challenges alone. We believe that the weight we are lifting is our burden to carry (or maybe ours and God’s) and we don’t want to bother anyone else with them. So, for multiple reasons, we feel too ashamed, embarrassed, prideful or mistrusting to reach out or accept help when it’s offered.
What about you, have you been struggling in the shadows? What’s stopping you from accepting (or asking for) help?
In Ephesians 6 in The Message version of the bible it says this:
“Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. Truth, righteousness, peace, faith, and salvation are more than words. Learn how to apply them. You’ll need them throughout your life. God’s Word is an indispensable weapon. In the same way, prayer is essential in this ongoing warfare. Pray hard and long. Pray for your brothers and sisters. Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out.”
God didn’t design us to carry our burdens alone.
God has given us tools and weapons to help whatever battles we are fighting, and sometimes those tools and weapons are the people around us: the people God has put in our path to journey with us. Please ask for help and we in All Saints will be happy to listen, to pray and to support where we can.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
12th May – Sunday after Ascension & Holy Baptism
Today we have the opportunity to reflect on the sacrament of baptism and its profound significance in our lives, as we will in a few moments be baptising baby John Walters. We welcome Peter, his father, former member of this church community, along his godparents Jose and Helen, and the rest of their family. It is a great pleasure to have you all with us this morning.
Earlier, we heard the story of Matthias, from Acts of the Apostles. Matthias was chosen to replace Judas Iscariot among the disciples. He followed God’s call to take up a new identity as one of the twelve, though we don’t hear anything else about him again! Matthias was chosen through prayer and drawing straws, which seems perhaps a little random. However, we are given to understand that this was a decision ultimately guided by the Holy Spirit. It’s a significant moment in the early church and illustrates the importance of attempting to discern God’s will and stepping into the roles he has ordained for us.
Many of us would like to know the true purpose of our lives, perhaps. We can perhaps frame our response to this question around the two great commandments; we are to love God and to love our neighbour. All the decisions about how we conduct our lives can be guided by these two principles. Once we become Christians through baptism, our lives are not our own to do with as we please. Love of God and of neighbour should always be at the forefront of our mind.
Secondly, we know that we direct our lives under the shelter of God’s forgiving love. We can, of course, pray for God’s specific will to be revealed to us, but rarely are those prayers answered in a direct way, and to be honest, I’m always a little suspicious of people who claim divine revelation! We often don’t know for certain which is the right path, and we usually need to take a leap of faith. We choose, knowing that God’s love and forgiveness will sustain us in the midst of the many decisions we need to take throughout the course of a lifetime.
Thirdly, we know that nothing can separate us from the love of God. We have the free will to make our own decisions and choose our own path, but we know, just as with the choice between Matthias and Joseph Barsabbas, God is at work in our deliberations too. Our poor decisions do not separate us from God; God is always working to make the best out of those decisions. As people claimed by Jesus Christ and committed to Jesus Christ, as we are in baptism, we choose, we decide, we act.
Peter, you have chosen for John to be baptised and you, along with Helen and Jose, will speak on his behalf today. Baptism is the first step of a journey with God which will continue for the rest of his life.
Baptism is a sacrament which through signs and symbols paints a vivid picture of what happens on the Christian journey. It is an opportunity for all of us to remember our own baptism – which we may not if we were baptised as a baby of course – and to renew our baptismal promises. We will make the sign of the cross on John’s head, an indelible mark, which will set him aside as one of God’s own. This sign of the cross reminds us of Christ’s death for us.
Through the waters of baptism, we die to sin and are raised to new life, and we are linked to Jesus’ own baptism in the river Jordan. We are born again by water and the Spirit. We blessed the waters of baptism in the font at our Easter vigil this year at first light on Easter Sunday. At that service, we also lit and blessed the Paschal candle, which is now by the font. We will give John a candle lit from that Paschal candle, to symbolise new life, and Christ conquering the powers of darkness and death when he burst from the tomb. You might like to light the candle on the anniversary of his baptism.
Just as Matthias was called to fulfill a specific purpose within the community of believers, each of us is chosen by God to contribute to His kingdom through our gifts and talents. Baptism is a symbol of our acceptance of this divine calling and our commitment to live out our faith in obedience to God’s will. As a church community, we are asked to support John and his family, to pray for them as they embark on this new journey together. This is why we conduct baptisms as part of our usual Sunday service, welcoming new members of the body of Christ in a public way.
Like Matthias, who received the power of the Holy Spirit at Pentecost, we are equipped in baptism to proclaim the gospel and bear witness to the transformative power of God’s love in our lives. As John continues his journey of faith, may he be strengthened by the grace of baptism and empowered by the Holy Spirit to live as a faithful disciple of Christ. May we all also be enabled and sustained in our own journeys as we witness this sacrament.
Ascension Day 2024
I wonder if Ascension Day and what it means is a bit difficult for us in the modern world. Perhaps this important feast has become the slightly poor relation to what some might see as the more significant festivals of Easter and Pentecost. I must confess I’ve always rather liked Ascension Day. I remember as a child of about 7 at my church school in Yorkshire the excitement of being chosen on Ascension Day as one of a small group. We climbed to the tower of our 12th century church (some 220 spiral steps) and played an Ascension hymn on our recorders – I think it was ‘The head that once was crowned with thorns is crowned with glory now’ – letting the sound ascend to the heavens. As an adult, I’ve perhaps retained some of that excitement about this festival, which I think is a lot to do with glory. Not a word we use much in general speech these days, but something which children understand intuitively.. After we’d played our hymn, we spent some time looking into the sky, and for that 7 year old child there was a wow factor. Partly because of being allowed to climb to the top of a high church tower and peer over the edge – but also because I had a sense of something that was beyond my ability to grasp at a rational level, but I knew it was about something really special that was much bigger than me. Perhaps this is harder to latch onto as an adult?
I think my 7 year old self had some kind of vision of Jesus looking resplendent in a shiny robe and crown being whisked out of sight on some kind of magical conveyance, a bit like Dr Who in the Tardis. Of course, as adults, we know that this was not what happened. I think to make sense of it, we need to go back to the first century Jewish understanding of heaven and earth. To the first century Jewish mindset, heaven is not some ethereal place in the sky, to which we go when we die; rather, heaven is the place where God dwells. Heaven and earth co-exist, they are dimensions which have an effect on one another. Most of the time, we can’t perceive heaven with our mortal eyes, but just very occasionally, we catch a
glimpse of it. For me, it’s when I’m listening to a sublime piece of music, or in a spectacular landscape, or most especially at the Eucharist. Jesus himself is expressing this Jewish worldview when he says in our Lord’s prayer: “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as in heaven”. Salvation is not about escaping the body and going to the realm of God and the angels, but rather about heaven and earth coming together – or at least coming closer.
If we look at the Ascension from this point of view, we don’t have to suspend disbelief about some kind of miraculous space travel. Instead we understand that Jesus passes from one dimension to another, rather than going up into the sky, as such. You might ask – well why is a cloud mentioned in the reading from Acts? In ancient texts, and especially the Hebrew Bible, a cloud was a shortcut for the presence of God – think of the pillar of cloud in Exodus, for example. The ascension of Jesus into the cloud is his welcome back into the Father’s presence, and most importantly to be at his right hand side to intercede for us. We’ve been hearing from John’s gospel over the last few weeks how Jesus has been preparing
the disciples for his leaving. Perhaps one of the other reasons we are less fond of the Ascension is that in some sense, it is about a goodbye, an absence of his physical presence, which the disciples resist at first. We know from our own experience that goodbyes are painful.
We’ve also been hearing how Jesus appeared to the disciples on the day of his resurrection; how he showed that he was alive by eating and drinking with them and showing them the marks of the nails in his hands and feet; and today, for the last time, his resurrection body appears to them and is taken out of their sight. It’s a pivotal time, looking back over the events of Holy Week and Easter, with its promise of resurrection, and looking forward to Pentecost and the coming of the Holy Spirit.
I’ve been reflecting on why I´m a fan of the feast of the Ascension over the last few days. Easter is perhaps the more glamorous elder sister and the crowning glory of our faith, when we understand that Christ has triumphed and that death is truly dead. But the reality is that as much as we’d like to, we can’t bask in that reflected glory indefinitely; we can’t skip off imagining a magic wand has been waved and everything is going to be OK.
No, the reality of life is that suffering and loss still exists and we don’t have to look very far to see it, in many places in the world and in our own lives. Think of Ukraine, and Gaza. Closer to home we know that although Western medicine has tried to obliterate the reality of suffering and death, people still get sick and die. The Ascension acknowledges the reality of that suffering. There is no Resurrection without Good Friday. As our Lord leaves his earthly life, he still bears the scars of his human suffering, taking them with him into the glory of heaven; and in so doing, he takes with him the suffering of humanity. He doesn’t leave it behind but takes it right into the heart of God where it is glorified in heaven. That doesn’t mean in any sense that God wants us to suffer – not at all – but that simply it is part of the human condition and something that we all have to bear at some point in greater or lesser measure. What it does mean is that we can offer our suffering to the Lord in company with his own suffering.
There’s another important message we can glean from the Ascension which is linked to suffering, and that’s the idea of beginnings and endings. Even though he had prepared them for it, Jesus’ followers found their world had profoundly changed. They had to move on, as his presence would be felt in very different ways than they’d experienced it up to this point. They needed to recognise that even though they could no longer see him, he could still transform their lives profoundly – particularly in the ways they related to each other and the world.
In our own time and place, we are called to find out how that same recognition might lead to a personal transformation as individuals and dare I say it – a corporate transformation as the Church. Letting go isn’t easy as we know. We prefer to cling to what we know and shy away from the difficulty of endings, goodbyes, change and so on – but we know from our personal experience that real personal growth often emerges from what initially might look like the end of a road. There’s an inevitability as we go through life that we will at some point have to face up to change, whether from our own choice or whether it’s imposed on us externally.
The message of Ascension day underlines a need to let go, but with the reassurance that we’re not alone. We have the promise that the Spirit is on her way to us at Pentecost in 10 days time, to be our guide and comforter. In my last church, we had a Triptych in our Lady Chapel rich with symbolism and imagery, which I particularly loved. Our Lord is holding a book with the words from the last verse of Matthew’s gospel “Lo I am with you always”. What comforting words! This is the meaning of the Ascension then: heaven and earth come a little closer. As he takes his leave, Christ points us towards the God he called Father, and enables us to go on our own journey towards the divine by taking the path of commitment to truth, peace, justice and love; and he promises that he will be with us always.
Finally, there’s another important message that we can take from the ascension; the goodbyes that we experience personally, whether the death of a loved one, the break-up of a relationship, or the deterioration of our health, are not able to separate us from the love of God, or take away God’s good promise for us. This Ascension day, let us thank God for the fact of Jesus’ ascension, which assures us of his continued presence with us.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
Sermon 5th May 2024 – John 15. 9-17
Today’s gospel is particularly challenging, and builds on and deepens the teaching we heard last week in which Jesus says “ I am the vine, you are the branches”. As I didn’t preach on this last week, I’d like to explore briefly this metaphor before we look at its implications for today’s passage.
I don’t know whether you’ve looked closely at a vine, though living where we do, we have plenty of opportunity. If you do have a close look you’ll see that the branches are almost completely indistinguishable from one another; it’s difficult to see where one branch stops and another branch starts – they all run together as they grow out of the central vine. What does this mean, we might wonder? Well, I believe that we’re supposed to understand that, Jesus is the vine from which everything else flows. There are no freestanding individuals in the community, but branches which encircle one another completely. The fruitfulness of each individual branch depends on its relationship to the vine, nothing else. So what seems to matter for our gospel writer is that each individual is rooted in Jesus and hence gives up individual status to become one of the many interlinked branches. Quite a challenge, isn’t it?
Today´s passage develops this theme further. We are called to abide in God by keeping God’s commandments; and here we have the heart of it and perhaps of the entire gospel in a nutshell : “This is my commandment, that you love one another, as I have loved you.” Love: what a very difficult word that is. It’s bandied about in popular culture and songs so that its meaning has been watered down so completely as to be unrecognisable from what Jesus intends here. He then goes on to link this with the word friend: “ no-one has greater love than this than to lay down one’s life for one’s friends”. Of course Jesus is referring to himself here and the sacrifice he is about to make for all of us. And of course we don’t have to cast around very far before we can think of those who have laid their life down for others in extraordinary circumstances. If I’m honest though, there aren’t many friends for whom I’d willingly do this – my son and daughter perhaps, but not I think for a fellow follower of Christ.
So what do we think Jesus is asking of us here? What are we being called to embody? How can we give up our lives for others? What can we do to demonstrate that depth of love for others both within and outside the church? It might be helpful to examine this from another perspective. What would it take, I wonder, to set aside all that we believe about others, to overturn the prejudices that prevent or stifle friendship, in order to join others in being truly the Body of Christ? What would it take to set aside even for a moment the cherished and familiar, whether beliefs or practices, in order to stand in for another, someone perhaps at the margins? As a community under Christ, we all bear the “imago dei” the image of God, which means we are all connected to one source, the true vine, and we all matter equally.
What might that mean for us as a community? If we return to the vine and branches metaphor, we are encouraged to steadfastness in our relationship to Jesus, a steadfastness which is measured by our fruits. If we bear fruit, or in other words we act in love, that love is rooted in Jesus and in our embrace of that love as the central commandment. To live as branches of the vine is to belong to a unity shaped by the love of Jesus. The individual branch is subsumed into the communal work of bearing fruit, of living in love, and in this way revealing itself to be one of Jesus’ disciples. To live according to this model would be a church in which members are known for the acts of love they carry out in common with other members. This is not a community built around individual accomplishments, choices or rights, but around the collective accountability to the abiding presence of Jesus and the enactment of the love of God.
The metaphor of the vine suggests a radically non-hierarchical model: no branch has pride of place, no one branch can claim precedence over another. There is neither status nor rank among the branches and the only distinction between them is fruitfulness; and discernment about fruitfulness falls to God, nobody else. All members grow out of the vine and are tended equally. I’m sure I don’t need to point out that this poses some serious challenges to the ways in which institutional church life is understood and maintained. As far as John’s gospel is concerned, there is only one measure of our place in the faith community- to love as Jesus loved. And everyone, whether male or female, ordained or lay, young or old – are equally accountable to that one standard. If the Church were to shape itself according to this metaphor, it would be a community in which decisions about power and governance would be made in light of the egalitarian love demonstrated by the vine image.
All of the above of course is hugely challenging, especially for a community- but nevertheless something we should aspire to. We shouldn’t forget though that the outcome of keeping Jesus’ commandments is joy! Too often churchgoers are dismissed as dull and rule-bound by outsiders. But don’t forget : “ I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.” You might be wondering what this promised joy consists of. I like to think of it as an exuberance of faith that nothing can destroy. A deep-seated sense of happiness which is not merely emotion, but a lively pleasure in the things of God. These words combine human action – the fulfilling of his commandments – with a human emotion as their effect, i.e.joy. We see that abiding in the risen Lord is not drab commandment-keeping but holy joy, life and laughter.
Bearing fruit that will last means making wise choices for the work of and on behalf of God. It means acting thoughtfully over a lifetime, being prepared to change our perspective, re-evaluate our decisions. It means discerning what thoughts, words and actions best serve the intentions of a loving God in this world, as demonstrated in the figure of the risen Christ. I pray that as we as a church discern a way forward, our collective efforts may be rooted in the love of God – for one another and for the wider community.
Mtr Fiona Jack – Chaplain
Previous Midweek letters may be seen on this link.
EASTER
On Easter Sunday Morning I was reflecting with the children about how when our name is spoken by someone we know well we instinctively know their voice. One of them said; “Yes, and I can tell by the way my Mum says it whether she is happy or cross with me!” This led us into the telling of the story of that first Easter Morning. Mary Magdalen went to the tomb to care for the body of Jesus. Her distress at his loss was even more heightened by the fact that the tomb stone had been rolled away and the body of Jesus was nowhere to be found. Her distress at his death became heartbreak in her grief and loss. Alone in the garden, in her pain and tears, she met a man who she didn´t recognise but thought was the gardener. He asked her why she was weeping. “They’ve taken the body of Jesus and I don´t know where they have put him.” He didn’t respond to her statement or maybe it was a question in any other way than by saying her name…”Mary” Her response was immediate recognition of the person of Jesus and her grief was transformed.
At Easter as Christians we celebrate and remember how each of us in our different ways have heard Jesus calling us by name, calling us to follow Him, not necessarily by a voice but by a stirring inside. Like Mary hearing the voice of Jesus it can be transformational for us too. This Easter Jesus continues to call us, those who’ve heard and those who’ve not yet, to listen to Him, to follow Him, to know His love and forgiveness. He offers new life. Jesus ‘resurrected body speaks to us of lament in the midst of joy. Resurrection is a way forward from the grave that honours the scars we carry, helping us to bear them with resilience and hope.
Easter is not just one day…it´s a season…we are an Easter People. At All Saints you are very welcome to come and join us in this Easter Season. We meet at 11:00 each Sunday as well as at Messy Church at 3:30 on 20th April. During our car boot sale on 6th April the church will be open for you to find a quiet place to be still, to chat if you´d like or to engage in creating art work along the theme of changing sadness and grief to joy and happiness. All are welcome.
Alleluia! Christ is Risen! Alleluia! Or as one of the children said: It´s like a big WOW! Jesus is alive again! Wow!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
BELLS:
In our midweek readings we have been reminded of God’s faithfulness, his compassion and his presence alongside us…I´m pleased to be reminded of this because I don’t know about you but I am frequently challenged when I pause and consider all that’s going on in our world…the upheaval, the conflicts, the breakdown of society… Maybe your personal and family circumstances have been difficult of late. Have you found yourself asking; “Does God care? Is He there?”
Not so long ago we celebrated the birth of Jesus, one of whose names is Emmanuel – God with us. The Word (Jesus) dwelt among us in the nitty gritty of life, in the pain, the joys, the struggle and loss which we each experience in life. As we journey though Lent to Holy Week we will be reminded again of Jesus crucified with criminals on either side – Jesus in the middle of injustice, torture and pain. After His resurrection, after the disciples had locked themselves away in fear, we find Jesus among them speaking peace.
God is never far away and the message of today´s readings is that whatever we are in the midst of, God is in our midst.
Each of us has days when it feels as though God is far away, or that He can´t hear us. I was reminded while I was on retreat last week that it is what we do in those situations which matters. When I felt that God had forsaken me, I was challenged to ask whether I had forsaken and forgotten God. In the busyness of life it has become easy to give God the left overs of my time. I was pleased to read in verse 8 of Psalm 145: You are kind and tender hearted to those who don´t deserve it and very patient with people who fail you.
That psalm reminds us to call upon Him. It might be something as simple and short as; Thank you Father for all the daily blessings and provisions you have given us.
Perhaps we could pray the psalm along the lines of: Father open our eyes to the many wondrous works which you have accomplished for all of us. You provide the food we eat and the shelter we inhabit. You provide the air we breathe and you give us life each day.
Goodness is God giving us what we don´t deserve. Mercy is God not giving us what we do deserve. Psalm 145 reminds us that God has compassion on all He has made. He upholds all who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. He is near to all who call on him in truth.
Because of our identification with Jesus we too are called to live as He wants us to live. We are called to be a sign of his presence. The acronym BELLS *
reminds us of how we could do this:
B – bless someone today through a prayer, a word or a practical act.
E – Eat with someone this week, show hospitality, even with a coffee
L – Listen to the promptings of the Lord
L – Learn from Jesus…and know that you are
S – Sent, anointed to shine for Him right where you are
(*Surprise the World by Robert Frost)
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
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Carnival
This week brings the culmination of the carnival celebrations her in Tenerife. The carnival in Santa Cruz – the capital of the island – said to be the second only to that in Rio de Janeiro. The streets in all the islands towns are filled with people dressed in extravagant costumes mingling with herds of children in assorted animal costumes. All being eyed by bewildered tourists who haven’t been warned what to expect, those who had prior warning are, most probably amongst those dressed in the outlandish costumes, I know I was in my younger years.
Wednesday night here in Puerto de la Cruz is the celebration of ‘the Burial of the Sardine’ where a large effigy of a Sardine is paraded through the streets in the late evening, followed by the priests from the local church and crowds of wailing ‘widows’ (of both sexes) all dressed in funereal black wailing and brandishing huge handkerchiefs. The ‘Sardine’ is paraded to the Port where it is ’launched’ out to sea for the ‘Burial’. The local priest then delivers the last rites and The ‘Sardine’ is set alight this allows the fireworks, contained within the ‘Sardine’ to be ignited and the town lights which, where possible, have been dimmed for the Burial, come back on Carnival ‘Wake’ continues through the night.
Thus illustrating the close links that exist between the local Churches and the public celebrations of a less secular nature.
Carnival here as in many countries, coincides with the beginning of the Christian Season of Lent. The season of denial , the carnival being a time to let off steam and possibly eat and enjoy other excess prior to the season of abstinence that follows.
In All Saints Church we celebrated with the traditional ‘Ashing’ service where the congregation were marked with the sign of the cross on the forehead using ashes made from the burnt and ground remains of the palms from the previous year’s palm crosses of ‘Palm Sunday’.
So now we enter the season of Lent – I wonder what you are have vowed to give up for this season?
Looking forward we have a visit this weekend from our Bishop – The Bishop of the Diocese in Europe, Bishop Robert – on his first visit to our church. On Saturday afternoon he will preside over a Confirmation Service to which all are welcome to attend.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
7th February – Same Word: Different Meanings
I don´t know about you but growing up if I was told my room was messy, or my work was presented in a messy format it certainly wasn´t a positive description of what the adults around me were viewing. The expectation was that something would be done to rectify both. At times our lives can feel messy too – lots of spinning plates and dropping a few in the process. Certainly not the plan and peace and calm we might have hoped for or longed to experience.
So when I told a friend we were introducing Messy Church at All Saints she didn´t view that as something positive….”Messy? Mmmm…Tell me more” was her response.
Messy Church is a way of being church for people of all ages but it´s not as most people understand church. It´s a way of being church for families and others based on creativity, hospitality and celebration. Every element aims to be relevant and accessible to all ages. All Age is shorthand for being church for everyone, welcoming ALL ages, abilities, learning preferences, backgrounds, levels of interest in God and, especially here in Tenerife, language and cultures.
Messy Church has at its heart the creation of a space where all can come together. Children can learn from adults and adults can learn from children. Messy Church is the opportunity to enjoy the life, liveliness, loving care and purpose of God at all stages of life. One traditional model of gathered church is being in groups – adults learn in one way and children and young people in another. Messy Church is the opposite of this.
Messy – people and relationships take precedent over structures and systems, just as in Jesus´ own ministry.
Creativity often involves trying something new and failing and then trying something new in a different light. It might involve making something, destroying something, marvelling at something, learning a new skill or simply playing a game.
Fun, Food, Friendship and Faith. Come and join us at our Messy Church on Saturday 24th February from 3:30-5:30. We will begin in the grounds of the church and in teams we will be building boats out of various bits of junk – the biggest boat which floats the longest in the paddling pool is the winner! Then we will be making Animal crafts and playing games before sharing a picnic together. Following this we will learn a song with instruments about a man called Noah, an Ark and animals. If you have any questions or to tell us you are coming, so we prepare enough picnic, please contact me on 711042849. We had great fun and made lots of mess last time. Come and join us this month!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
31st January
Candlemas reflection
On Sunday we celebrated Candlemas and as well as a dramatic presentation of the story, we circled the church in light to emphasise that Jesus is the light of the world.
So what’s Candlemas all about then? In a nutshell, Mary and Joseph are going about the everyday business of fulfilling the Jewish law after the birth of their son, and they receive God’s blessing through Simeon and Anna. We’re told that both Simeon and Anna are elderly and that their lives have been faithfully dedicated to God. Over the years, they must have seen thousands of couples bringing their new-borns to the temple for the rituals of circumcision and purification. And yet, despite their advancing years and perhaps failing eyesight, both Simeon and Anna recognise in this particular baby something special, something that they have been waiting for all their lives. They have seen the longed-for Messiah, the deliverer that was promised to the Jewish exiles in Babylon.
I wonder if Simeon was expecting this Messiah to come as a helpless baby, brought in by noticeably poor parents? We know that Mary and Joseph were poor, because they offered ‘a pair of turtledoves or pigeons’ which was what those who couldn’t afford a lamb would bring to the temple when presenting their first-born to the Lord. Simeon might have been expecting the Saviour of Israel to arrive in a more momentous way, perhaps, rather than this very ordinary-looking couple and their new baby, performing an ordinary everyday ritual. It would have been so easy to miss! The point here is that neither Simeon nor Anna did miss this special moment, slipped in amongst the everyday. They waited. Faithfully, devoutly, patiently. And they were rewarded.
We’re not very good at waiting in the present day. We want everything now, we don’t particularly want to wait, technology has speeded everything up and merely fuels our desire for instant gratification. Whilst I was waiting those interminable months for my visa so I could come here, I was forced to slow down, take a step back and simply wait for the bureaucratic process to take its course. I had the luxury of visiting various churches during the wait, and frustrating though it was, I now look back on it as a time of growth. Time to take stock, to reflect, to wait.
And this is one of the key messages of Candlemas – the slow, patient work of God in our lives. It’s counter-intuitive in an age where we’ve learned to want and expect everything immediately. Simeon and Anna had to wait their whole lifetime before they saw salvation with their own eyes; Mary had to wait 30 years before Jesus fulfilled the promises she’d been given about him at his birth – and which are reinforced by this encounter with Simeon and Anna. She must have wondered privately all those years whether any of it was going to come true, but like the two in the temple, our Lady waited patiently and faithfully for the truth to come to pass. Someone asked me recently why we don’t have any accounts of what Jesus was doing for 30 + years. I don’t really know for sure, but I suspect that in the ordinariness and obscurity of his early life, the long, slow purposes of God were quietly unfolding.
For most of us, God doesn’t come calling in our lives in the way that happened to St. Paul on the road to Damascus for example – in a literally blinding flash of light and a voice from the heavens. No, for most of us, God comes in the everyday, the ordinary, the seemingly insignificant. But if we’re attentive, we can see God at work, where others maybe see nothing special. This is the kind of vision which sees potential and possibility, the quiet, persistent work of God among us, in situations which others might overlook.
In everyday life, God has perhaps receded from our awareness and experience; we may assume that God is found only in certain places such as sacred buildings or in holy books; there’s little room for mystery or meaning beyond ourselves as we are in thrall to secularism on the one hand and technology on the other. I believe that the presentation of Jesus in the Temple challenges modern believers to rediscover something of the mystery of life and the transcendence of the everyday, to cultivate the kind of attention and stillness which allows us not to miss or overlook those special moments when they come. Perhaps we need consciously to create opportunities to keep slowing down and finding simple rituals to help us celebrate God in the ordinary: greeting the morning with gratitude, celebrating the goodness of food, family and friendship at meals, recognising mystery in beauty or nature, marking rites of passage, lighting a candle in memory of a person or an event. You may have guessed that I am a big fan of ritual, symbolism and visual aids to worship. Far from being restrictive, I believe that rituals celebrate the goodness and mystery of life; they allow us, like Simeon and Anna, to cultivate a day-to-day connection with the Spirit, so we both see and celebrate the gentle, faithful work of God in our midst.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
24th January
Week of Prayer for Christian Unity
As this year’s week of prayer for Christian Unity draws to a close I reflect on this glorious unity.
The Church is glorious for many reasons.
One glorious aspect of the Church is the unity found within it. It’s true that there is, at times, much internal disunity, hurt and disorder of every kind. But these are not qualities of the Church. These are the effects of the sins of Her members.
The Church Herself is the communion of the body of Christ. So the more we enter into union with Christ Jesus, the more fully we are a member of this glorious Church. By uniting ourselves to Christ we unite ourselves to the Holy Trinity. And by uniting ourselves to the Holy Trinity, we unite ourselves to St. Peter, all the Apostles and all the saints who are living and in Heaven.
We become mystically united with Christians throughout the world and our prayer and adoration of God becomes one song of praise rising to the glory of Heaven. Also as we unite ourselves, through our unity with Christ, we receive the overabundance of Mercy from God making us one.
Do you see yourself as a member of the one Body of Christ?
Do you understand that you are called to share in the unity that comes from your union with Him?
Loving our Lord Jesus with your whole mind, heart, soul and strength brings about a profound love for others.
If it does not, then it is not authentic love of God.
Reflect upon the effect that your love of God has on your relationship with others. Let your love of God affect you in such a way that you discover an outpouring of love for all people, of every race, especially those within the Church. Then let that love reveal the deep bond of unity that is established as a result.
Unity is glorious.
It is a central blessing flowing from the Church and a sign of the Mercy of God.
A prayer for Christian Unity:-
Lord, help me to always live in union with You and with others. May my love for You overflow into my love for others, especially those who are members of Your Church. I love You, dear Lord, and I trust in You. Amen
Note: There will be a service for Christian Unity held in Iglesia de San Francisco, Puerto de la Cruz at 19:00 on Thursday 25th. January.
All are welcome to attend.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
17th January – Can faith move mountains (and defeat giants)?
Everyone enjoys the story of an underdog, whether it’s the sporting team that comes from nowhere to beat a big -league player, or the school bully who finally gets his much-deserved come-uppance. And this is the story from the Hebrew Bible of David and Goliath. David, an eighth son and an overlooked shepherd boy, decides to take on a man who looks like the “Incredible hulk” and causes whole armies to quake in their boots. According to the story, Goliath stands 9 feet 6 inches tall and is encased in armour, with a sword, a spear and a javelin. David on the other hand is a beardless youth, with a wooden staff, a sling and five smooth stones. It doesn’t seem much of a fair fight. But we hear the outcome of the story in just one verse:
“David put his hand in his bag, took out a stone, slung it and struck the Philistine on his forehead; the stone sank into his forehead, and he fell face down on the ground.” What David lacks in stature and armour, he makes up for with an abundance of faith; killing Goliath with a stone is less important than his faith and what he says. Responding to Goliath’s taunts, David says: “You come to me with sword and spear and javelin; but I come to you in the name of the Lord of hosts, the God of the armies of Israel”.
And here’s the point of the story surely: it’s not merely an archetypal struggle between a bully and an underdog, satisfying though that is. This story embodies the hopes of all people when they are faced with overwhelming evil power that there is a way to overcome that power and win the future. This is especially true for the marginalised of our society, who know that they can’t overcome the Goliaths of oppressive power on their own terms, using their own resourcefulness, but that their only hope lies with a living God.
David is the one who knows that there are resources beyond the technology of kingdoms. His is an alternative to the way of swords and empires, though his way in this story definitely isn’t a pacifist option. That said, his trust is not in the technology of power of force, but in the subversive power of truth. The truth in this story is that God is ultimately in opposition to arrogant and self-serving power and its violence. Trust in God nurtures hope that there is a way into the future when there seems no way, that there may be a chink in the impregnable armour, that a well-aimed stone of opposition can indeed bring down oppressive regimes. Think of the dismantling of the system of apartheid in South Africa which didn’t seem possible even a few short decades ago, or the fall of the Berlin wall.
There are many situations in the world around us over which we seem to have little control. But when we feel helpless, let’s not forget the story of David, who persisted in his faith in God in the face of a giant and won the day.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
3rd January 29024 – “New Year 2024”
Last month I cut my finger and found to my annoyance that my phone didn´t recognise my fingerprint. I couldn´t use it for access to various accounts or my Apps. It was both frustrating and surprising to see how many things were impacted. My unique fingerprint enables access to many aspects of my phone and much of today´s living is now stored in my phone!
Looking back over 2023 and forward to 2024 as well as having a finger print that no one else has I can leave an imprint that no one else can. Are you someone who makes New Year resolutions? If so, do you keep them…for a few days, weeks, months or as a new way of living and being? Are they challenging and are they realistic?
I have been reading a reflection “New Year” from an American Lutheran pastor, Nadia Bolz-Weber, and share it here:
“As you enter this new year, as you pack away the Christmas decorations and get out your stretchy pants, as you face the onslaught of false promises offered you through the new disciplines and elimination diets, as you grasp for control of yourself and your life in this chaotic world – May you remember that there is no resolution that, if kept, will make you more worthy of love.
There is no resolution that, if kept, will make life less uncertain and allow you to control your aging parents and your teenage children and the way other people act. So this year (as in every year), may you just skip the part where you resolve to be better, do better and look better this time.
Instead, may you give yourself the gift of really, really low expectations. Not out of resignation, but out of generosity.
May you expect so little of yourself that you can be super proud of the smallest of accomplishments.
May you expect so little of the people in your life that you actually notice and cherish every small, lovely thing about them.
May you expect so little of the service industry that you notice more of what you do get and less of what you don´t and then just tip really well anyhow.
May you expect to get so little out of 2024 that you can celebrate every single thing it offers you, however small.
Because you deserve joy and not disappointment.”
So as we move into 2024 may our imprint be such that we share and experience love and may our uniqueness be something to be celebrated.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
20th December – Christmas Letter
Dear friends,
During Advent, that great time of waiting, hope and expectation, I have been reading Stephen Cottrell (Archbishop of York)’s book ‘Let it slow – an Advent calendar with a difference’. The archbishop points out that whilst Christmas can be one of the most joyful times of the year, it can also be one of the most stressful, laden with expectations and added burdens. And it can be a far from joyful time for some people for all sorts of reasons.
So how can we rediscover the true meaning of Christmas amongst the hype, the competition for the best Christmas ad, the tinsel and glitter and the over-indulgence? Perhaps we can slow down, take some time to pause and catch our breath, find a place of quiet. Get inside the story, go to Bethlehem in your imagination, stand in the corner of the stable and watch as the mystery unfolds. Christ comes to us in the vulnerability of a child, and we can come to him in stillness. We can find him in silence. As we sit down to our festive feast on Christmas day, let us first give thanks for all that we have received, and raise our glass to toast the God of Christmas who visits us now.
I wish you and yours a very happy Christmas and the joy of the Christ child in your hearts and homes.
Every blessing,
Mtr. Fiona
12th December – “Christmas Carols”
At this time of year do you find yourself humming Christmas Carols – perhaps as you are putting up decorations or meandering round the shops looking for those last-minute presents? The word Carol comes from the old French word “Carole” meaning a popular circular dance accompanied by singing. What I hadn´t appreciated was that Carols used to be sung throughout all 4 seasons. May Carols and Harvest Carols were popular but it is only the tradition of singing them at Christmas which continues today.
In 129 a Roman Bishop insisted that a song called Angel´s Hymn should be sung at a Christmas service in Rome. Another famous early Christmas hymn was written in 760 for the Greek Orthodox church and after this many composers across Europe started to write Christmas Carols. Initially they were sung in Latin, which many couldn´t understand, but this changed in 1223 after St Francis of Assisi started his Nativity plays in Italy. People sang songs which told the story during the play and they were normally in a language which the people could understand. The new Carols then spread to France, Spain and Germany and into other European Countries.
Until 1700 only the Psalms were allowed to be sung in Anglican churches. From 1700 and for many years the only Christmas Carol which was allowed to be sung in Anglican churches was “While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night” because of its lyrics from the bible. During this time musicians played their local tunes to the words and because of this “While Shepherds Watched” is probably the Carol with the greatest number of different tunes.
Before Carol Singing became popular in churches there were sometimes official carol singers called “Waits”. These were bands of people led by important local leaders who had the only power in the towns and villages to take money from the public – if others did this they were sometimes charged as beggars. They were called Waits because they sang at the beginning of the Christmas celebrations on Christmas Eve which was known as “watchnight” or “waitnight” because of the shepherds who were watching their sheep when the angels appeared to them. Today the tradition of Carol Singing in pubs or in shopping centres continues and is often a way of fundraising for local charities.
The Radio Station Classic FM has a competition each year for its listeners to vote for their favourite Carols. Last year “O Holy Night” took the top slot, with Silent Night and In the Bleak Mid-Winter second and third. I´m always transported back to my school choir rehearsals throughout December when I hear “O Holy Night.” Perhaps that´s something of the joy of Carols. Each year we can sing the words with memories attached. I smile now as we sing a favourite of mine “In the Bleak Mid-Winter” with the sun beating down here in Tenerife! I wonder which is your favourite Carol? If you are reading this on Facebook do comment down below!
On Thursday 14th December at 6:00 pm we will be having a Carol Service – a festival of readings and Carols telling the Christmas story. Schools from the British Community will be participating and there will be Christmas craft activities for younger children. This will be followed by mince pies…Do come and join us in All Saints to sing, to hear again the Christmas story and to meet others over refreshments. All are welcome!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
29th November – “Mission”
Whilst ‘laid up’ for the past week or so with the dreaded COVID virus I was thinking of the Global Church and its overall mission. Having visited many churches around the world whilst I was working and in my travels of exploration, leisure and relaxation I find there are many ‘flavours’ of Christianity. Some people doctrine one way, and some do it another. We have Methodist, Catholic, Baptist, Holiness, and many others I hear now we even have Non-Denominational. We have these churches who shout, those who don’t Those who clap and those that don’t. All seemingly believe in operating in their own way, but in all these different types of worship, the mission is still the same. It does not matter what church you attend, the majority of the sermons or messages are focused around the same character. Jesus. The preaching may be different, one may find unusual at times, but the mission is still the same.
Well, what is this mission? I hear people ask. This mission is trying to make people aware of the immeasurable amount of joy and comfort you find in serving God. Since I heard my first preacher, as a small child in a Welsh congregational chapel, preach, I have heard many more, but they have all had the same general goal and mission, and that is to save some lost soul. The messages may have been different, but all these preachers are preparing the way for the coming of Christ. So you see no matter what denomination you are, the mission is still the same.
As modern-day Christians our mission is still the same as those old Christians because we still see so much evil in the world around us. Since the beginning of time evil has existed. And just because it is 2023, nothing much seems to have changed, sadly. Which is why as Christians we should be determined to pursue the mission of the Church with determination.
I want to briefly show you exactly how much the mission has remained the same. The Bible (the first chapter of St. John’s Gospel) says that John was sent to pave the way for Jesus. Now John was a strange looking and acting person, not like any other preacher. He wore camel skin and ate locusts and honey – now that’s strange. I feel that our ministry team, here at all Saints, would look odd following this example!
However John did not have a very deep message, and he did not have any training, but what he had was the Holy Spirit. He did not have a very extensive vocabulary, but it was something about how he said what he said, the Holy Spirit would sprinkle the anointing over those words and people would come running to the water saying “Baptize me”. John was sent, the Bible says for a purpose, and John had a mission.
The Bible says that John came to bear witness of the light. His mission was to let the people know that Jesus was coming. The Bible says he came to make people aware of the light, and I want you to know that we as Christians have been sent to tell unbelievers about the light. Because had it not been for somebody showing us the light we still would in the darkness of sin.
Just like John was different from any other preacher or prophets, but his mission was the same as theirs, and that is to offer unbelievers a chance to step into the light. It does not matter who you are, or where you are, if you are a Christian your mission is the same as every other Christian. You may be Rev. Fa. Mtr, Dr. Mr. Mrs. so and so the mission is still the same. We have maybe become too consumed in titles and with the size of our sanctuary, but I tell you that the labels do not measure you are. Too many of us try to be too profound and too prolific of preaching and that’s all-good but we mustn’t lose sight of the mission.
Because the mission is still the same.
All churches need to remember the mission, because I don’t care how big your church is, if you don’t fulfil the mission then you won’t prosper. Because you can be Baptist or Holiness; Catholic or Methodist, but the mission is still the same. Our mission is to fight evil where we see it, and to win at all cost. No matter what trial comes.
All people are welcome join our mission or talk to us in our historic church in Puerto de la Cruz.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
15th November – “The Light of the World”
At All Saints, we have a copy of Holman Hunt’s famous painting, “The Light of the World”, in the sanctuary. This painting has had significance for me since I was a child, as it appears on the inside cover of a Bible given to me at my baptism by my aunt. The first time I saw the original was as a student; it hangs in the chapel at Keble college Oxford and there is a larger version in St. Paul’s cathedral. You can imagine the effect of seeing this painting here at All Saints when I visited Tenerife in January, prior to my appointment! It confirmed the feeling that I had been called to this place, a feeling which has been confirmed during the past two months.
It was first painted in 1854 and is very much a product of the Victorian era; Jesus is depicted as white, with long fair hair, as we see in much European religious art and stained-glass windows. It’s quite a complex painting and rich in symbolism. The inscription, taken from Revelation Chapter 3, verse 20 reads: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me. “
This phrase is key to decoding the painting, I believe. The New Testament often tells of Jesus eating with people and many parables and teachings contain references to feasts and celebrations. But there’s a deeper meaning to the metaphor of eating; it is sometimes used to describe the Kingdom of Heaven. For example, in Luke chapter 14, we hear the parable of a great banquet to which people are invited; the guests make excuses and do not turn up, so the host invites the marginalised of society; in our day this would be the homeless, the refugees, the drug addicts. All of these are welcome at the feast. And of course, the other meal alluded to here is that of the Eucharist, where we share bread and wine in remembrance of the Last Supper as we remember Jesus body and blood sacrificed on the cross.
The door is an important symbol in this painting and is thought to represent the door of our lives. Jesus is standing waiting patiently for us to open it up. I don’t know if you have spotted this, but the door has no handle, so the only way for it to be opened is from the inside. This suggests that the person who hears Jesus’ message needs to accept it and admit him. Jesus’ feet are turned sideways from the door, and there’s a hint that he’s been standing there for a long time and is about to go, and that time is running out. In the background, there’s a wood, night is beginning to fall; it’s as though he’s been there all day, just waiting.
In contrast to the dark wood, which perhaps has some frightening undertones, Jesus is carrying a lantern in his hand. All the light in the painting is coming from the lantern, and reminds us of John 8 verse 14 : “I am the Light of the world”. Juxtaposed with the dark wood, this implies that Jesus leads his followers through the dark and difficult times of our lives, providing both hope and guidance.
If you look at the top of the door, you can see that it’s quite overgrown with weeds, some of which are dead. They stop the door from being opened and represent the things which distract us from following Jesus. Similarly, there is rotten fruit on the ground which seems to have been discarded. Like the weeds around the door, this symbolises how some people treat Jesus’ invitation. It’s a symbol of desolation and decay, which accompanies a life lived without the Light of the World.
Why do I like this painting? Well it has a certain nostalgia for me, as I associate it with my childhood; my mother found it very meaningful and it was one of her favourites. Equally importantly, I find Jesus’ facial expression extremely comforting; he wears an expression of great patience, not of anger or fatigue; wherever I stand, his eyes seem to look directly at me. Whether I am wrestling with an issue, seeking inspiration or just wanting a deeper connection in prayer, this image is the one I keep coming back to. It doesn’t seek to brush the difficult aspects of life under the carpet; the dark wood is still there in the background; but it speaks of hope and light, on offer whenever we choose to accept it; and that it’s never too late to join the party.
Mtr Fiona Jack
Chaplain
8th November – Reflection
Here at All Saints Church we are in a reflective mood, starting last Wednesday, 1st. November, we reflected on the life of all the Saints, in whose name the church is dedicated. This was followed, on Sunday, by a very poignant and reflective service, where we celebrated the memory of All Souls. Bringing to mind all those that we have known and loved and who have now passed into God’s loving care. This reflective season continues through to next Sunday – Remembrance Sunday – when we will remember all those who have died in conflicts over the years all around the world.
This series of reflections made me wonder about memories. How many of you have sometimes taken an old album of family photographs to help her try to recall something of her past by re-awakening those memories that had almost, but not quite, been forgotten. Just occasionally, I’m sure, you cringe inwardly when the picture reminded me of some particularly embarrassing event. We need to remember and never forget the past because no matter how embarrassing some of those memories might be, it is part of one’s history, part of your family history and part of your identity, and all of you will, I am sure have good and not so good memories as well.
So it is for nations. On Remembrance Sunday as we gather with our poppies, we look back at some of the most challenging times in our history. We remember two world wars and other conflicts since then, and give especial thanks for all of those who gave their lives so that we could live in peace. Willingly or not, they made the ultimate sacrifice and we do well to continue to give thanks and to honour them. We also give thanks for the armed forces that are too often in action and are too often in danger. They continue to take risks so that others may be free.
As Christians, what is it that we see when we look back? Do we see people loving each other as Jesus loved his disciples?
That’s exactly what we do see in so many selfless acts of bravery and sacrifice, people laying down their lives for others through countless tales told but most untold. However we also see people turning away from the brave and the good and the selfless and choosing instead to hurt others. We have all heard countless stories of the unspeakable evil that mankind can inflict on others.
Tragically, too many evil deeds continue to be inflicted on huge numbers of innocent people today, as we see and hear almost daily in news broadcasts.
However we read in the Gospel of St John Chapter 13 – “ A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you so you must love one another”. Just think about that for a minute – we are called to be friends of Jesus, the Son of Almighty God. But the friendship that Jesus asks is costly; it means loving and caring and being concerned for each other, particular in these dark and difficult days, with our whole being and without limit. Not just when we think about it, as in these days of reflection but all through every day. As Jesus loves and cares for us, so we are to treat those around us in exactly the same way. There’s nothing sentimental about that – but we have to admit that on the whole, we’re not terribly good at it.
We look back at the events of history and remember what has occurred before. We give thanks for those that we have loved, or done great deeds, and gone before and so we should. We recoil at the bad things that have happened. But it isn’t enough for Christians to stop there. We have to look forward to the future and we have to look deep within our own hearts and souls and examine the extent to which we love God, how much we want to do what he wants and how we reflect that in what we do every day. If we really believe that God sent his only son into the world to save us, if we really believe that God’s plan for his people will not be confounded, then we will know that there is hope for the future.
As we continue to remember The Saints, our loved ones also the fallen, we must give thanks for those who have gone before us some of whom gave everything, and to lament the shortcomings of the world and of ourselves but remembering that there is absolutely no despair in Christian living. We look through the lens of love, the love of a saviour who gave himself for us, the love that even now does bear fruit in a world of challenges.
We look forward to a time of peace and love knowing that God is with us on our journey and will strengthen and support us in all that we do.
As we reflect on the past, we can look forward to the future with a few words from the hymn that many of us remember from School assemblies, or church services…
God is working his purpose out as year succeeds to year;
God is working his purpose out and the time is drawing near;
Nearer and nearer draws the time, the time that shall surely be:
When the earth shall be filled with the Glory of God as the waters cover the sea
Peter Lockyer
Reader
8th November – Reflection
Here at All Saints Church we are in a reflective mood, starting last Wednesday, 1st. November, we reflected on the life of all the Saints, in whose name the church is dedicated. This was followed, on Sunday, by a very poignant and reflective service, where we celebrated the memory of All Souls. Bringing to mind all those that we have known and loved and who have now passed into God’s loving care. This reflective season continues through to next Sunday – Remembrance Sunday – when we will remember all those who have died in conflicts over the years all around the world.
This series of reflections made me wonder about memories. How many of you have sometimes taken an old album of family photographs to help her try to recall something of her past by re-awakening those memories that had almost, but not quite, been forgotten. Just occasionally, I’m sure, you cringe inwardly when the picture reminded me of some particularly embarrassing event. We need to remember and never forget the past because no matter how embarrassing some of those memories might be, it is part of one’s history, part of your family history and part of your identity, and all of you will, I am sure have good and not so good memories as well.
So it is for nations. On Remembrance Sunday as we gather with our poppies, we look back at some of the most challenging times in our history. We remember two world wars and other conflicts since then, and give especial thanks for all of those who gave their lives so that we could live in peace. Willingly or not, they made the ultimate sacrifice and we do well to continue to give thanks and to honour them. We also give thanks for the armed forces that are too often in action and are too often in danger. They continue to take risks so that others may be free.
As Christians, what is it that we see when we look back? Do we see people loving each other as Jesus loved his disciples?
That’s exactly what we do see in so many selfless acts of bravery and sacrifice, people laying down their lives for others through countless tales told but most untold. However we also see people turning away from the brave and the good and the selfless and choosing instead to hurt others. We have all heard countless stories of the unspeakable evil that mankind can inflict on others.
Tragically, too many evil deeds continue to be inflicted on huge numbers of innocent people today, as we see and hear almost daily in news broadcasts.
However we read in the Gospel of St John Chapter 13 – “ A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you so you must love one another”. Just think about that for a minute – we are called to be friends of Jesus, the Son of Almighty God. But the friendship that Jesus asks is costly; it means loving and caring and being concerned for each other, particular in these dark and difficult days, with our whole being and without limit. Not just when we think about it, as in these days of reflection but all through every day. As Jesus loves and cares for us, so we are to treat those around us in exactly the same way. There’s nothing sentimental about that – but we have to admit that on the whole, we’re not terribly good at it.
We look back at the events of history and remember what has occurred before. We give thanks for those that we have loved, or done great deeds, and gone before and so we should. We recoil at the bad things that have happened. But it isn’t enough for Christians to stop there. We have to look forward to the future and we have to look deep within our own hearts and souls and examine the extent to which we love God, how much we want to do what he wants and how we reflect that in what we do every day. If we really believe that God sent his only son into the world to save us, if we really believe that God’s plan for his people will not be confounded, then we will know that there is hope for the future.
As we continue to remember The Saints, our loved ones also the fallen, we must give thanks for those who have gone before us some of whom gave everything, and to lament the shortcomings of the world and of ourselves but remembering that there is absolutely no despair in Christian living. We look through the lens of love, the love of a saviour who gave himself for us, the love that even now does bear fruit in a world of challenges.
We look forward to a time of peace and love knowing that God is with us on our journey and will strengthen and support us in all that we do.
As we reflect on the past, we can look forward to the future with a few words from the hymn that many of us remember from School assemblies, or church services…
God is working his purpose out as year succeeds to year;
God is working his purpose out and the time is drawing near;
Nearer and nearer draws the time, the time that shall surely be:
When the earth shall be filled with the Glory of God as the waters cover the sea
Peter Lockyer
Reader
1st November – St. Teresa of Avila
As we’re celebrating All Saints Day today, I thought I’d take the opportunity to talk a little about a favourite of mine – St. Teresa of Avila. I studied her works at university along with other great Spanish mystic John of the Cross – and I visited Avila some years ago as part of a road trip with a couple of friends. They’ve rather latched onto her in Avila as part of the tourist trade, even selling St Teresa sweets everywhere – a not very nice confection based on egg yolks – my top tip if you visit Avila is to avoid these!
Born into a wealthy family in 1515 in Avila, she entered the Carmelite Convent in Avila at the age of 20. Never strong physically, her health collapsed and she was an invalid for 3 years, during which time she developed a love for reflective prayer. To cut a long story short, in mid-life she decided to restore the Carmelite order to its original observance of austerity. These reforms required utter withdrawal so that the nuns could meditate on divine law and through a prayerful life of penance, exercise a vocation of reparation for the sins of humankind. She met with a storm of opposition and hostility, but despite this and failing health, went on to found and nurture another 16 convents throughout Spain. To do this, she made exhausting journeys covering hundreds of miles – Spain is a big country – and she died in 1582 as she was returning to Avila from Burgos.
Why is she a favourite? Well, she was a woman ahead of her time. One of her most famous sayings is “just being a woman is enough for my wings to fall off”, suggesting that despite the social conventions of the time that clipped the wings of women, Teresa would not let herself be held back. The world into which she was born was not inclined to the independence of women, rather the opposite. But Teresa was both independent and determined and managed to get what she wanted despite living in an era when the patriarchy made all the decisions. She was an avid reader – again something women weren’t encouraged to do – and felt that a day when she couldn’t read a new book was a day lost. Encouraged by her mother, and behind the back of her strict father, she read books of chivalry as a young girl. When she understood that God was calling her to be a nun, she went against her father’s wishes and entered the convent anyway; and she stood up against the church authorities in founding her new version of the Carmelite order. Remember this was the time of the Spanish Inquisition, when religious tolerance was low. She was in fact examined by the Inquisition, who suspected her of heresy, but they were unable to find anything that contradicted the idea that she was obeying God’s will. As she herself admitted, sometimes she felt like a lion, and at other times like an ant!
As well as standing up to the social and religious conventions of the day, Teresa also had great spiritual insight. She taught her nuns to think and pray on their own, and to concentrate so they could hear the voice of God in what she called the “Interior castle”. She wrote some wonderful prayers, and I’d like to end with this one, which I have in my office. I find it speaks to me down the ages of a deep feeling of reassurance of God’s presence.
Let nothing trouble you
Let nothing frighten you
Everything is fleeting
God alone is unchanging.
Patience will obtain everything.
The one who possesses God
Wants for nothing.
God alone suffices.
Amen.
Mother Fiona Jack
Chaplain
25th October – Neighbours
Seeing 2 pictures on Facebook this week I was reminded of the phrase: A little child shall lead them. One by the Norwegian artist Alex Knudsen is of 2 children sitting on the ground facing each other and holding hands through a barbed wire fence. One is wearing a cap with the Israeli flag on it. The other a pair of striped pyjamas. A second photo shows two children, Israeli and Palestinian, walking with an arm round the other´s shoulder through the narrow streets of their home town. Both depict children who love, play with, talk to and accept the other for who they are, without focussing on or necessarily even being aware of any differences.
Human flourishing requires that we establish, mend and maintain relationships with other people. Jesus exemplified and taught that those loving relationships ought to cross culture´s artificial boundaries of politics, ethnicity, nationality, gender and socioeconomic status. Think of the child who is told by people they trust that people of another race, religion, culture, sexual orientation or class are “dirty and dangerous”. You can immediately see the self-reinforcing cycle. Those people are dangerous or dirty so I will distrust and avoid them, which means I will never have sustained and respectful interactive contact with them – which means I will never discover that they are actually wonderful people.
Throughout the Gospels we see that Jesus doesn´t dominate the other, avoid the other, colonise the other, demonise the other or marginalise the other. Instead he joins the other in solidarity, protects the other, eats with the other, listens to the other, serves the other and even lays down his life for the other.
On 28th October from 10:30-19:00 in Plaza de Charco in Puerto de la Cruz there is a celebration of Día Vecinal – Neighbourhood Day. Along with our neighbours in the town , we as a church community will share something of who and how we are within the neighbourhood of Puerto de la Cruz. Do come and see!
The command to love one´s neighbour comes originally from Leviticus 19:18 which says: “Do not seek revenge or bear a grudge against anyone among your people but love your neighbour as yourself. I am the Lord”. In the time of Jesus he told those listening the parable of the Good Samaritan when asked the question “Who is my neighbour?” His story points out that by loving others we genuinely seek what is best for them, attending to their needs as we are able. As Mother Teresa said, “The task is not to do big things but to do small things with great love”.
This week as we pray for peace for the people of Palestine and Israel, Russia and Ukraine we pray too that we will see each other the way that God sees us, instead of through our biases. We pray to be good neighbours. In the focus of war, terror and hatred we pray to the God of justice, mercy and peace.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
18th October – Israel and Gaza
As we’ve watched with horror over the last few days the events unfolding in Israel and Gaza, I couldn’t help recalling a business trip I made to Tel Aviv in early 2000. Not knowing if or when I might ever find myself there again, I decided to take the opportunity for a whistle- stop tour of Jerusalem. I’m glad I did, as since those days of peace and hope, it has been a difficult and dangerous place to visit, and especially now of course.
What struck me most was the sense of place: how the three great Abrahamic faiths, Judaism, Islam and Christianity exist cheek by jowl in that ancient and holy city, which is sacred to all of us. I visited the Wailing Wall, King David’s tomb, the Holy Sepulchre church, the Garden of Gethsemane, walked the Via Dolorosa and wandered through the mainly Muslim souks smelling of exotic spices and selling all manner of trinkets. All seemed calm and as it should be.
The politics of the region are complicated and I don’t propose to rehearse the minutiae of them here. And closer to home, we think of the conflict in Ukraine which still rages. As Christians, we are taught that we have a prima facie duty not to kill or injure others. There is a concept of a ‘just war’ in Christian moral thinking (based on St Thomas Aquinas) which tells us that war can be justified if it is waged to resist aggression, protect the innocent or uphold the rights of an oppressed group. Not everyone would agree with this thinking, however, and many Christians would consider themselves to be pacifists and totally opposed to war in any shape or form.
Wherever you place yourself, the situation remains a grave one and there are no easy solutions. As individuals, we don’t have a direct influence on world politics, but what we can do is pray: for the protection of the innocent, especially children and civilians, for a cessation of hostilities, and for tolerance in our own small sphere of influence. We are somewhat sheltered from it here in Tenerife, but Jews and Muslims in the UK are feeling the pressure of the heightened emotions around religious differences right now.
Here’s a prayer of St. Francis of Assisi: could I suggest you pray it each day?
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace: where there is hatred let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy. Amen.
Mtr. Fiona Jack, Chaplain
11th October – Black History Month
October is Black History Month and an opportunity to reflect on what more needs to be done to tackle racial inequality.
In April 2021 an Anti-Racism report, “From Lament to Action”, was published. As the title of the report suggests it is not necessary only to lament past cruelties against people of colour, such as their trade and trafficking; decisive action is also needed to dismantle existing structures of white privilege and power.
Black History Month is a particularly apt occasion to ponder the image-bearing humanity of Stephen Lawrence, George Floyd and many others and consider how best to work towards achieving a racially just society.
Not being racist is desirable but this alone will not do. To fight for racial justice is actively to oppose and disrupt the prevailing racist ideologies and the status quo of racial discrimination. Practical action is needed for reparation, reconciliation and justice. Cultural and habitual change is not easy to bring about; to fight against racial stereotypes is a daunting task. How do we consciously make space for minority ethnic groups in all our structures?
If racial inequality is to be made a thing of the past then it´s about changing hearts – our own and those of our communities. One way of doing this is to imagine ourselves in the place of people of other racial origins. Such empathy for other people´s situations has the potential to transform people´s thinking and enable each one to realise we are brothers and sisters in the “wider” families of the church and the world.
Education, in-depth and robust, can also aid changes. The perpetrator and the victim do not view the phenomenon of racism through the same prism. Sharing space and opportunities are key. What is required is a deeper understanding of human relations.
In making racial justice a priority, in deconstructing the past construction of racially unjust structures and in believing in the principle that everyone is made in the image of God we build a transformative society.
In the Diocese in Europe the journey towards racial justice has begun. The Racial Justice Conference in Freiburg, Germany from 9-11th November will enable delegates to grieve the past, challenge the present and envision the future.
In the Book of Revelation we read that people of all nations and tribes will be living together – with no more tears – for eternity.
The object of Black History Month is to realise that despite different genealogies and descendants we all share a common humanity. To realise this reality would be to glimpse that vision in Revelation.
Let us each continue to work to be part of the solution towards an end to marginalisation, economic enfranchisement, racial justice, youth empowerment and gender equality. This week may our belief in the inclusivity of all God´s people guide us as we pray, sow seeds of faith and wait in hope for a new, plentiful harvest – one that affirms the beautiful diversity of God´s creation.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
4th October – St Francis of Assisi
Last week the Green Church 2024 Awards were launched in recognition of the urgent environmental crisis and the efforts being made by organisations and communities, churches and schools to care for creation. Two such awards are the Land And Nature Award for projects creating space for wildlife and to encourage biodiversity and the Green Health Award for projects making an active connection between faith, nature and mental health.
Charlie Chaplin once said that the 6 best doctors in the world are: 1. Sunshine, 2. Rest, 3. Exercise, 4. Diet, 5. Self-esteem and 6. Friends. He reflected that if you see the moon you will see the beauty of God. If you see the sun you will see the power of God. If you look in the mirror you will see God´s best creation.
These awards and statements echo the vision and values of St Francis of Assisi whose feast day is celebrated this week, on 4th October.
Francis lived and believed these 5 values: 1. Service to the poor and marginalised, 2. Affirmation of the unique worth of each person, 3. Appreciation for beauty, 4. Reverence for all creation and 4. Faith in a personal and provident God.
This sonnet by Malcolm Guite reflects the way Francis responded to Christ´s call and challenges us to do the same.
“Francis, rebuild my church which, as you see is falling into ruin. From the cross your saviour spoke to you and speaks to us again through you. Undoing set you free, loosened the traps of trappings, cast away the trammelling of all that costly cloth we wind our saviour in. At break of day He set aside His graveclothes. Your new birth came like a daybreak too, naked and true to poverty and to the gospel call. You woke to Christ and Christ awoke in you and set to work through all your love and skill to make our ruin good, to bless and heal, To wake the Christ in us and make us whole.”
We pray for the chaplaincy in South Tenerife, The Anglican Church of St Francis, that on the feast of their patron saint they may be blessed and be a blessing to each other and those they serve. May we all reflect the values by which Francis lived as we pray the prayer attributed to him:
God make me an instrument of your peace; Where there is hatred let me sow love; Where there is injury, pardon; Where there is doubt, faith; Where there is darkness, light and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Creator, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; To be understood as to understand; To be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive, It is in pardoning that we are pardoned and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
27th September – Season of Creation
We are now 4 weeks into the Season of Creation, which began on 1st September and concludes on 4th October, the feast of St Francis of Assisi who is known as the patron saint of ecology. Each year during this time of ecumenical solidarity the Christian family unites for this worldwide celebration of prayer and action.
Does anyone remember being told as a child: You made this mess. You tidy it up? I am reminded of that when thinking of our responsibility to the environment. We contribute to the problem. We contribute to the solution. There has never been a time in the history of human existence when we have so gravely threatened not only our own existence but that of the rest of the living world. But it´s not too late to act if we do it now and if we do it together.
The Season of Creation is a vital and necessary reminder that God´s saving, healing justice -seeking love extends to every part of creation. We live in turbulent and troubling times as we continue to struggle for world peace and the reconciliation and unity of all creation. We are surrounded by war, violence, climate challenges and unjust systems that continue to dehumanise and oppress people around the globe.
This year the theme for the season is “Let justice and peace flow” with the symbol of a mighty river. Like tributaries joining forces to become a mighty river, the ecumenical family comes together on a path to care for our common home through justice and peace. So how can we here at All Saints join the river of justice and peace? Rev Fiona challenged us this past Sunday to consider what fruitfulness means to each one. We are not asked to be other than who we are but we are expected to produce the fruit that comes naturally to us. She asked us where we collude with systems and to consider what justice and fairness looks like to each of us.
Being called to join the river of justice and peace could mean speaking out with and for communities most impacted by climate injustice and the loss of biodiversity. We might need to consider how we change our attitudes and actions. Righteousness asks that we live in peace, not conflict, with our neighbours and building right relationships with all of creation. Peace (shalom) involves not only the absence of conflict but positive, lifegiving relationships with God, ourselves, our human neighbours and all of creation.
The prophet Isaiah proclaims in chapter 43 verse 19 “Listen carefully. I am about to do a new thing, now it will spring forth; will you not be aware of it? I will even put a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” The world we have known is changing rapidly. Industrialisation, colonisation and the extraction and consumption of resources have created great wealth unequally distributed. We are challenged to create hope out of despair. Rather than praying the familiar words of the prayer Our Father this week you might like to pray this version by Jim Cotter adapted in the New Zealand Prayer Book:
Eternal Spirit, Earth-Maker, Pain-Bearer, Life-Giver, Source of all that is and that shall be, Father and Mother of us all, Loving God in whom is heaven: The hallowing of your name echoes through the universe! The way of your justice be followed by the peoples of the world! Your heavenly will be done by all created beings! Your communion of peace and freedom sustain our hope and come on earth. With the bread we need for today, feed us. In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us. In the temptation and test, strengthen us. From trials too great to endure, spare us. For you reign in the glory of the power that is love, now and forever, Amen
Caring for creation is not a distraction from sharing the gospel but is an integral part of our Christian mission. The way in which we treat the environment impacts the lives of people. Loving our neighbour means taking care of our neighbourhood too. This coming week let´s be challenged to tune into the principles of attitude, action and advocacy.
Judith Rigby
Congregational worship Leader
20th September
I wonder how many of us watch a film to the end of the story and then turn the TV off or turn our attention to getting our things together to leave the cinema? This past week I started watching a film, only to doze off and wake up just as the credits began to roll. They continued for minutes afterwards…all the many hidden people who played a part in the making of the film. From the catering to the make up to the grip-(whatever they do!), to the camera crews, location team etc etc the list seemed endless.
All of them had played a part, significant or otherwise but nevertheless a necessary part in the making of the film. It reminded me of those many people who play a part in our lives and our stories. Some of them are well known and remembered while others might have had a small but important part to play at the time. Try telling the actors and actresses that there is no catering van on set and they will soon realise the importance of those making their meals. Months later they might not remember the people by name or even their face but at the time they were important to enable the end product.
Tomorrow 20th September 2023 we look forward to welcoming Mtr Fiona Jack as our new chaplain. She joins a list of those who have been in leadership in All Saints since the ground for the church was broken on 7th May 1890, the church building was completed on June 14th, 1891, and the church consecrated in 1893. Since then there have been many whose names could have been listed in “the credits” of church worship and church family.
When we open our bibles there are many named there who are more well known than others. Moses and the parting of the red sea, Joseph and his technicolour coat, Daniel in the lions´ den might be known about from the Old Testament. But there are others who are barely mentioned. If you read Judges you will find in chapter 4 a man by the name of Lappidoth. He is barely given a mention. He could be called today “the stay-at-home husband” of Deborah. Deborah is one of the most influential women of the bible. As a prophet, Judge Deborah was said to hear God´s voice and share God´s Word with others. As a priestess she led worship and preached. She is known for her wisdom and courage and is the only woman of the Old Testament who is known for her own faith and action, rather than because of her relationship to her husband.
Deborah and her story can teach us so much. Susan J Nelson describes 3 lessons that stand out.
1. Be Obedient. If God is telling you to do something or go somewhere, despite your fears, listen to His call. He has plans that we can not begin to understand but hearts and lives may be changed by our obedience.
2. Be Courageous. The old saying “God doesn´t call the qualified, He qualifies the called” applies here. Doing something out of your comfort zone to glorify Him can be terrifying, but faith was never promised to be easy. Be Bold and Be Courageous for His glory.
3. Stand True. Never waiver in your faith. We may not always know what the road ahead will look like, but we only need to remember that God will faithfully guide us and lead the way.
So today as we pray for Mtr Fiona we pray that she will be a Deborah, obedient and courageous. May we as a church community encourage and welcome her, praying for God´s guidance, protection and strength in the coming weeks. Together we are part of the unfolding story of All Saints in September 2023.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
13th September 2023
As we hear reports of an earthquake measuring 6.8 on the Richter scale shaking the Atlas Mountains of Morocco, leaving at least 2,500 dead and 3,000 injured, and of rescue teams that continue to search for people under the rubble, I am left thinking of all the natural disasters that have been reported on in the past few months. Rains, floods, droughts, wild fires and now this disaster that was experienced in our neighbouring chaplaincy.
Our hearts hurt for those who have lost loved ones in such natural disasters, and our thoughts and prayers go out to all affected by new disasters that seem to come at an increasing pace.
We must also hold in our prayers all those in the Emergency services that are struggling in save lives as a result of all these ‘natural’ disasters many of which may be caused by man’s intervention in the natural world which is causing climate change.
I am left pondering…
Where is God?
When disasters like these happen, many wonder how a loving God can just stand by and watch thousands of lives be ripped apart physically, spiritually and emotionally.
That is a fair question, especially to individuals and countries directly affected by such tragedies.
Many never can find the answer. Some just accept the reality of the losses and cling to the belief that everything happens for a reason. Some others end up rejecting the existence of a God because, they reason, if this were God’s world, He would never allow such suffering.
And, incredibly, that is the answer. There is suffering because this is not God’s world…
The Bible clearly shows that, beginning with our first parents, mankind as a whole has not wanted God to be involved in their lives. The majority of human beings simply want to live how they want to live and to do what they want to do. They don’t want God involved in “their world.” God has simply obliged.
When God created Adam and Eve, He placed them in the beautiful Garden of Eden—an environment controlled and maintained by God
There would be no natural disasters there. It was a perfect environment in which to live. To enjoy this ideal environment, God simply required that they follow His instructions for how to live. But God also gave them free will. He warned that if they rejected His instructions, suffering and death would result
Yet, because of Satan the devil’s influence, our first parents chose to reject God’s instruction and believe Satan’s lie. The result was that Adam and Eve were removed from that perfect world. (As we can read in the book of Genesis Chapters 2 &3).
They were now on their own, apart from God. Humans in general have continued to push God out of their lives ever since and have remained under Satan’s influence. Natural disasters and other tragedies are, in my opinion, part of the result of a world that has rejected God.
Many years ago God promised the ancient Israelites protection from natural disasters if they would follow Him . God can and has mercifully intervened to protect His faithful people. God does care.
God Himself says, “For I have no pleasure in the death of one who dies. … Therefore turn and live” (Ezekiel 18:32).
Yes, God wants all of mankind, in the whole world, to turn to Him and receive His blessings. (2 Peter 3).
Peter Lockyer
Reader
6th September – Waiting . . . . .
Here in The Canary Islands our congregation both in All Saints Church in Puerto de la Cruz and our sister congregation on the Island of La Palma have been waiting and praying, since the death of the prior incumbent, for a new Chaplain to be appointed and to arrive to complete and lead our ministry team.
Our waiting time is nearly over and we expect Revd. Fiona to be with us towards the end of this month.
This led me to think more about waiting…
This thinking then pointed me to read again the First Chapter of the Acts of the Apostles where the waiting of the apostles is documented. No one likes to wait. However, we wait in traffic, in holding patterns on aircraft, in grocery stores, for the doctor, for a spouse, for a baby, for retirement, for sermons to end, or for Jesus to return.
Waiting is not just something we have to do while we get what we want. Waiting is the process of becoming what God wants us to be. What God does in us while we wait is as important as what it is we are waiting for. Waiting, biblical waiting, is not a passive waiting around for something to happen that will allow us to escape our troubles. Waiting does not mean doing nothing; It’s not a way to evade unpleasant reality.
Those who wait often are those who work, because they know their work is not in vain. The farmer can wait all summer for his harvest because he has done his work of sowing the seed and watering the plants. Those who wait on God can go about their assigned tasks, confident that God will provide the meaning and conclusions to their lives and the harvest to their toil. Waiting is the confident, disciplined, expectant, active, and sometimes painful clinging to God. It knows that we will reap a reward.
When Jesus told his disciples to wait in Jerusalem, he was telling them that that this was a means of experiencing his peace, his prosperity, and his power. In waiting they would catch the wind of God’s Spirit. In waiting they would see God move.
Waiting on the Lord may be one of the most difficult aspects of the Christian life. When Jesus promised that he would return, he instructed his followers to wait. That is easier said than done. So what do we do in the meantime? What do we do while we wait? I leave those questions for you to ponder and answer for yourself.
I was drawn into the story of some unseen growth: The Chinese bamboo tree is one of the most remarkable plants on earth. Once the gardener plants the seed, he will see nothing but a single shoot coming out of the bulb – for five full years! That tiny shoot, however, must have daily food and water. During all the time the gardener is caring for the plant, the exterior shoot will grow less than an inch. At the end of five years, however, the Chinese bamboo will perform an incredible feat. It will grow an amazing ninety feet tall in only ninety days! Now ask yourself this: When did the tree actually grow? During the first five years, or during those last ninety days?
The answer lies in the unseen part of the tree, the underground root system. During the first five years, the fibrous root structure spreads deep and wide in the earth, preparing to support the incredible heights the tree will eventually reach.
We can only hope that our patient waiting and praying here in Tenerife has laid the underlying structure that will lead to similar spectacular growth in our congregations with the arrival of our new Chaplain.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
30th August – Fires and Pilot Account
At the start of the fires 14 days ago we posted a prayer on Facebook. It has been, I believe the term is “engaged with,” just over 5000 times. God our helper and defender has been the prayer, along with gratitude, for those putting themselves at risk to save people and property.
In the beginning of Chapter 12 of the letter which Paul wrote to the people in Rome, The Message paraphrases it as:
“So here´s what I want you to do. God helping you: Take your every-day, ordinary life – your sleeping, eating, going to work and walking around life – and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him.
The fire has raged for 2 weeks. 20 seaplanes and helicopters have used millions of litres of water inside a perimeter of 90 kms to extinguish 15,000 hectares…for those challenged on measurements – a hectare is the size of just over 2 English football fields.
Let´s rethink that scripture from the perspective of a seaplane pilot: Take your every-day, ordinary life and place it before God as an offering…
Here´s one account:
It was the fifth day after the fire had broken out. The flames had spread over the mountain, consuming the beautiful flora and fauna that I had come to love. From my plane I could see the rage of the fire in all its splendour. Smoke was rising like a snake in the air, making me cough, even at this altitude. Radio communications were a constant buzz of voices and commands. Every pilot, every firefighter on the ground, every volunteer was giving their all. And I at the command of my aircraft, loaded with thousands of litres of water and retardants, plunged into the swamp of smoke and flames again and again.
The water deposits on the fires were remarkably accurate but my visibility was minimal. Every pass I made had to be perfect. Not only for the fact that every drop counts in this battle, but for the inherent risk in flying so low and in such adverse conditions. I remember a particular pass where I almost felt outdone. A sudden change of wind caused the flames to rise abruptly, and for a moment, within the cabin I felt the heat on my face, a heat that screamed at me “It was too close”. But I managed to ascend, with my heart beating a thousand beats an hour, knowing it was a very close escape.
At the end of the day we landed – exhausted, engines still buzzing in our ears. Down on the ground the smell of smoke and ash permeated everything. The faces of my peers showed fatigue and desperation, but also determination. A determination I would share. That night as I tried to reconcile sleep in a makeshift bed in the hangar, I thought about all that had been lost alongside all that was still to be saved. The Tenerife fire´s one of the hardest I´ve faced in my career, not only for its magnitude and complexity but also because of what the island means to me and to so many others.
Eventually, and it will take days, we will get it completely under control. And although the landscape will be marked by the tragedy it will also be a testament to the resilience, courage and solidarity of the community. Inclusive Tenerife teaches me that even in the darkest moments there is a light of hope that never goes out. And that light is ourselves, fighting together against all the odds.
A powerful account of generous service…
That final phrase “fighting together against all the odds” is Romans chapter 12 v 5 in action: We are all vitally joined to one another, with each contributing to the others. God´s marvellous grace imparts to each one of us varying gifts.
We are not all called to be seaplane pilots fighting the fire…how grateful we are that some are. However we are each called to use our gifts and live verses 9-12.
Be enthusiastic to serve the Lord…. In what way can I accomplish that service this week?
Radiate with the glow of the Holy Spirit…those of us living here have seen more than a glow from the fire…and let Him fill you with excitement as you serve him. Let this hope burst forth within you. That doesn´t speak to me of service carried out unwillingly or grudgingly…we all know what a difference a smile makes as we meet and come alongside others.
The final line of our Romans´ reading reminds me of the pilot´s last words: Don´t give up in a time of trouble…and for those of us who believe in the transforming power of Jesus in our lives, we know too there is more…and our reading concludes with that “more” … Don´t give up in a time of trial but commune with God at all times.
So this week, how will you be transformed and serve and pray?
I caught the conversation of a family behind me in the Lidl queue the other day. It went something along the lines of:
Mum: where’s the sun gone? Dad: I think it´s going to rain. Mum: No it never rains in August. Dad: Well those clouds look like rain to me. Child: Look it´s raining on the windows. Me: I think you´re right- we´ve been praying for rain to extinguish the fires. Mum: I see. So God still works miracles today then??? Cos I´ve never known it to rain here in August. Me: I believe in a God of miracles and I believe in thanking Him for answering prayer too. At which point the little girl of about 7 or 8 started singing the song, “If I were a butterfly I´d thank you God for giving me wings…she said they sing it at school and it has lots of thankyou God in it!
I walked out in the rain singing!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
15th August – Technology
Technology – for better or for worse? It´s been a question I´ve pondered over the past week. The experience of the elderly couple who were charged 110 euros by Ryanair for printing two boarding cards because it is now company policy to check in on line and print your boarding passes prior to arriving at the airport made me think for worse. Finding myself without my phone for 24 hours this past week I realised how much it holds; numbers, emails, banking and other Apps. The one I had while mine was being repaired did what “old phones” did – it sent and received calls. I was lost without my smart phone. The small business owner I used for fixing my phone was telling of the charges he has to pay the bank each time a card is used. A cashless society is extra cost for him. I was conscious of the number of self-checkout tills in Al Campo now – fewer staff employed while we self-scan our purchases.
It reminded me of the story of the elderly gentleman whose daughter was encouraging her father to activate internet banking. He wanted to know why he would do such a thing – “less time in the queue at the bank, in fact no need of a journey on the bus to the bank at all and you can even do your shopping on line,” was her reply. He thought for a moment and replied: “If I do that I won´t need to step out of the house.” She readily agreed. His reply made her stop and think. “When I leave home I meet friends and chat to staff who know me. When I go out the day passes more quickly…I have more than enough time. I don´t need speed of access. I need people. Would I have the “human touch” if everything was online? Why would I want everything delivered to me, so that the only interaction I have is with a computer or a phone.” His final comment: “I like to know the person I am dealing with. It creates bonds and relationships and keeps me active. Does Amazon deliver this as well?”
Technology might be enabling for some of us but it isn´t necessarily lifegiving. I´m grateful that today I have spoken to family in Sweden and England. I´ve received messages from friends as far away as Australia, Namibia and closer to home in other parts of Europe. These have enabled me to connect with people. While technology has made it easier to connect with others, access information and indeed improve medical care, it has also led to job loss, cyber bullying and technology addiction.
Technology does influence and change us. We have all benefitted from technology in one form or another. However let´s be aware that what´s efficient and enabling for one might be depressing and disenabling for another. Let´s pray this week that we can use the technology available to us to help us love our neighbour and develop connectivity and communication with others. As we pray we deepen and develop a relationship with God. The lyrics of a song I learnt as a child come to mind: “Prayer is like a telephone for us to talk to Jesus. Prayer is like a telephone for us to talk to God. Prayer is like a telephone for us to talk to Jesus. Pick it up and use it every day. We can shout out loud. We can whisper softly. We can make no noise at all but He´ll always hear our call”. This is one telephone that doesn´t come with Apps but which is lifegiving and can change us.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
9th August – Transfiguration
Last Sunday the church celebrated ‘The feast of the Transfiguration’
Most of us, I suspect, at some point each day, look in a mirror. We check our hair, our face, our teeth, our clothes. Mirrors show us what we look like. While it might be important to know what we look like, it’s more important to know who we are. That’s what this holy Feast of the Transfiguration is about.
Mirrors show external appearances. The Transfiguration of Christ shows us who we are. It reveals our origin, our purpose, and the end to which we must aim.
The Transfiguration shows the total beauty within creation and humanity. This means that the Transfiguration is not just an event in history, a happening that begins and ends. Rather it is a condition or a way of being. The Transfiguration reveals a reality of the present. The transfiguration is already within us and the world. The glorified and transfigured Christ is the prototype of our own creation.
Those are pretty bold statements when you consider events of the present time. Recently in a Sikh temple seven people were killed and others wounded – the school shootings in the USA. Let us not forget also the events occurring in Eastern Europe today and the cloud that overshadowed and the light that incinerated Hiroshima in this month in 1945. At times it seems our lives and the world is more disfigured than transfigured. These events, and others like them, do not, however, undo or negate the glory of God that fills this world and human life. Instead they show that far too often we are a people “weighed down with sleep.”
Peter, John, and James were also weighed down with sleep. Jesus took them with him and went up on the mountain to pray. We read in the Gospel that while Jesus was praying “the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.” Moses and Elijah were also there talking with Jesus.
The three disciples struggled between sleep and wakefulness. “Since they had stayed awake” they saw Jesus’ glory. He revealed himself to Peter, John, and James and in so doing showed them the deepest reality of who they are.
The spiritual journey is always a battle between falling asleep and staying awake, between absence and presence, between darkness and light. Sleepiness is not simply a physical condition; it is a spiritual issue and condition. Spiritual sleep is a form of blindness. It blinds us to the beauty and holiness of the world, other people, and ourselves. Blindness to God’s presence in and the goodness of creation is what allows us to do violence to one another and ourselves.
The three apostles, Peter, John, and James, experienced the transfiguration of Christ because they stayed awake despite the weight of sleep. They saw for the first time that which has always been. They saw the light of divinity fully manifest in a human being, something a mirror can never reveal.
Peter misunderstood, however. “Master, it is good for us to be here; let us make three dwellings, one for you, one for Moses, and one for Elijah.” Humanity can never build a dwelling place for God. It is, rather, God who makes humanity the dwelling place of divinity. This is most profoundly revealed in the Transfiguration of Jesus.
The whole of creation participates in the glory of God. Humanity alone, however, is called to the Mount of Transfiguration. It is there that Christ reveals who we are and who, by grace, we are to become.
The Feast of the Transfiguration invites us to wipe the sleep from our eyes, behold what we are, and become what we see.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
2nd August 2023 – “Treasure”
Last Sunday we read the parable (Story with a meaning) of a man who found treasure in a field and sold everything to buy the field so the treasure belonged to him. The children decorated treasure chests and filled them with stick on jewels. One of the children visiting commented that he wished they were real because that would be the best thing of his holiday!
At the end of the day while praying with my visitors we were talking about what they wanted to be thankful for that day. Almost immediately the 5-year-old said: We have lots of things to say thank you for but Jesus is the best treasure in my treasure box.
The next day the 12-year-old was telling me about phones and the latest and all that it does. I shared the story of the Sengalese footballer named Sadio Mane. Some of his fans were amazed when they saw him carrying a cracked iPhone 11 and wondered why he didn´t have the latest and best – after all he earns more than ten million US dollars annually. His response was along the lines of: Why would I want ten Ferraris, 20 diamond watches and 2 jet planes? I starved. I worked in the fields, played barefoot and didn´t go to school. Now I can help people. I prefer to build schools and give poor people food or clothing. I have built schools and a stadium, provide clothes, shoes and food for people in extreme poverty. In addition I give 70 euros per month to all people from a very poor Sengalese region in order to contribute to their family economy. I do not need to display luxury cars, luxury homes, trips and even planes. I prefer that my people receive some of what life has given me.
Lots to ponder in this example of selfless giving.
Here is an example of someone living the words in Matthew´s Gospel chapter 6:19-21: Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Let´s pray this week that we can be grateful for what we have and use it for the good of others.
Judith Rigby
Congregational worship Leader
26th July 2023 – “Waiting. . . . . ”
Here at All Saints Church in Puerto de la Cruz we are waiting, in eager anticipation, for our chosen Chaplain to leap over the final hurdle in the bureaucratic steeplechase and enter the final straight of the paper chase gold cup. Waiting for the time when we will be able to join in joyful communion together.
This led me to think – What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word, “Wait”?
Trying to get into a popular restaurant on a Friday night?
Stuck in a traffic jam?
Important examination results, perhaps?
When we think of waiting, we often think of passivity. Waiting is practically synonymous with doing nothing besides just sitting there fidgeting with our phones or staring at the ceiling, listening to the clock’s second hand ticking.
Recently, most of the world was paralysed as we all remained hunkered down in our homes waiting for COVID to loosen its grip. Thus, waiting is a very relevant topic.
When the Bible speaks of waiting, it’s an entirely different thing than what we do after we take a number for the blood-test at the Health Centre. Biblical waiting is not a passive activity, but is demonstrated by active dependence upon and obedience to God. Thus, waiting upon God is a spiritual discipline that we should seek to practise in our lives. Here are a few ways we can practise biblical waiting.
ACKNOWLEDGING GOD’S SOVEREIGN CONTROL OF ALL THINGS
In order to get good at waiting, we first need to acknowledge that God is sovereign and nothing we are presently experiencing is outside of his eternal decree and direct oversight. Here’s what the wise king says:
“Consider the work of God: who can make straight what he has made crooked? In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider: God has made the one as well as the other, so that man may not find out anything that will be after him.” Ecclesiastes Ch 7 v13–14
COMING TO TERMS WITH OUR DEPENDENCE UPON GOD
Connected to the doctrine of God’s sovereignty is the co-reality of our complete dependence upon him for all things. It’s natural for us all to want to be individualists. We want the freedom and independence to do whatever we want to do, when, where, and how we want to do it. But the truth is, we are all dependent upon God for even our next heartbeat. As we read of the patience of Job or as the Apostle Paul expressed in Romans 11:36, from God are all things.
Surely our response to this reality should be to turn to the Lord in faith and wait upon him. We are needy creatures. We should not try to fix things on our own, but come to terms with our dependence upon our good and sovereign God Lord and trust him to help us. As we read in Proverbs Ch3 v5: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.”
BEING PATIENT AND QUIET
Even though we may live out that human spirit of busy industriousness, it is good for us to stop, sit still for a moment, and be quiet. This is a part of God-glorifying waiting.
“It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord.” Lamentations Ch3 v26
“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.” Psalm 62 v5
When we are still and silent we can best listen for God to speak to us through his Word. What is the Lord teaching us through this? Patience, perhaps? What is he teaching you?
CONCLUSION
While the world these past few months, has seen many trials and tribulation we ought to also consider what positive lessons we are to learn from God through these difficult times. One lesson we all can benefit from is a better understanding of what it means to wait upon the Lord. He is sovereign over all things, and we depend on him for our very next breath. So let us express our dependence by waiting patiently, avoiding worry, and living obediently, while seeking him in prayer, expecting him to save as we anticipate our Chaplain’s making to the Winning Post of the paper chase Gold Cup.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
18th July 2023
The Japanese art of mending ceramics with gold is an old tradition called kintsugi, pronounced kint-soo-gi. It dates back to the 15th century and consists of highlighting the cracks and breaks in ceramics. With lacquer and gold the object´s scars come to life. The results are stunning, leaving a gold seam where the cracks were. It represents the idea that beauty can be found in imperfection. Rather than hiding flaws it accentuates them, celebrating the history and resilience of the broken object.
It can be considered as a metaphor for our human brokenness and the potential for our mending in Christ. In Psalm 34 verse 18 we read: “The Lord is close to the broken hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” There are times in our lives we come to Christ in fragments. He lovingly puts us back together. Very quickly it´s easy to see that being damaged alone is not a sign of failure or defeat. Rather it can be a sign of change, progress and improvement.
Throughout life we all experience difficulties and traumatic events. Applying kintsugi to our lives means being bold, rather than hiding the cracks and imperfections. The philosophy behind it teaches us how to embrace life´s fragility and find the beauty in it. It´s a reminder that we can always find a way to move forward and when we think we are broken we can pick up the pieces, put them back together and learn to embrace the cracks…in the hands of a “potter”.
Looking at our world and the news stories we can´t but be aware of the many who are experiencing difficulties and life´s fragility. Let´s pray this week that God can mend those who are broken and crushed with all the skills of a kintsugi artist. If you´ve never seen the ceramics I´d encourage you to check the beautiful pottery photos on the internet. The broken pottery is repaired with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver or platinum. Golden joinery…what a way to consider the healing that we are offered by Jesus the healer. The art is stronger, more beautiful. Each break is unique. Sometimes in the process of repairing things that have broken, we actually create something more beautiful, unique and resilient.
“You Lord are our Father. We are the clay. You are the potter. We are all the work of your hand.”
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
12th July 2023-
Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.”
Psalm 51:10 (ESV)
Spring is a time to start fresh—to wash windows, sweep the doorstep and sort through your wardrobe.
Maybe a bit late for spring, but our deeply loved All Saints Church, which has served the Anglican community here in Puerto de la Cruz since 1890, has just had an unexpected clear out. A few weeks ago signs of woodworm infection was found in some a few locations. A visit by experts suggested that the whole building needed to be treated, all non-wooden items having to be removed before the treatment could begin. A small team of dedicated members of the congregation have now removed all these items, they also found some things that nobody knew anything about!
So now all services will be held in the parsonage or its grounds until the works are completed.
This clear out made me think that sometimes our spiritual lives need a deep cleaning, too.
As we refresh our space, as we are refreshing our Church, we shouldn’t neglect the space inside—your very soul, the core of who you are. Here are three questions to ask yourself as you take a spiritual inventory.
What Needs to Go?
Let’s be honest, some things should go straight to the bin. We’re talking broken, falling apart, cobweb-covered odds and ends we probably never should have owned in the first place.
Think of a tucked away box that hasn’t been opened in ages. That’s what our sins can be like. We harbour all this guilt and shame over past mistakes and hide them away in the untouched corners of our hearts, never to see the light of day.
What if we unpacked all that baggage and laid it before God? What if we actively turned away from our sins (that’s called repentance), and said, “Here you go, God. All the broken pieces of my life are yours now.”
“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” —1 John 1:9
God is ready to give you a new start. Take the first step by seeking His forgiveness and asking for His direction as you move forward in your newfound freedom.
What Can You Give Away?
It can be daunting, but also gratifying, to pare down your possessions. So often, we hold onto things we haven’t used in years because maybe we’ll need them one day. Or we feel an attachment to something and can’t bear to release it to the donation pile.
But those things have a tendency to bog us down and clutter our lives. In the end, it feels good to let them go.
So what part of your faith life can you give to others?
“You are the light of the world. A city set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do people light a lamp and put it under a bushel, but on a stand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” —Matthew 5:14-16
As followers of Jesus Christ, we aren’t supposed to keep Him all to ourselves. He commands us to share His Good News with others.
Don’t worry, you don’t have to let go of everything. Perhaps the pillows just need to be fluffed, the shelves dusted or the universal “junk drawer” reorganised.
Our spiritual lives can usually use some tidying up, too. Think of all the letters the Apostle Paul wrote to churches about keeping the faith. It takes work, he told them—constant energy to get along, set a good example and generally be faithful to Christ.
Whether your faith life needs a fresh coat of paint or total renovation of the heart, there’s no better time to jump in than now. Start with one thing at a time—maybe it’s alone time with God, spending time in the Bible or treating others as He would.
Wherever you begin, remember you’re not spring cleaning alone. God Himself can help you cut through the spiritual clutter in each area of your life.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
5th July 2023 – Diversity & Inclusion
In nature a flock will attack any bird that is more colourful than others because being different is seen as a threat. On Canarian TV at the moment there is an advert reminding young people not to focus on the images portrayed on social media and reminding them that there’s nothing wrong with them being who they are.
Our abilities are not hindered because of our differences. Our talents aren’t any less because we are unique. Our worth isn’t defined by our diversity. It’s not our differences that divide us. It’s our inability to recognise, accept, embrace and celebrate those differences.
Diversity and inclusion are two inter-connected concepts but they are far from inter-changeable. Diversity is about representation or the makeup of a group. Inclusion is about how well the contributions, presence and perspectives of different groups of people are valued and integrated into an environment. The 3Cs of being Curious, Courageous and Committed provide the toolset necessary for creating a culture of belonging and expanding diversity within our community.
Our hope is that the alignment of the church´s attitudes, beliefs and behaviours with Jesus´ vision, mission and practices will bear fruit. Equality from a biblical perspective means recognising that all humans are created alike, in the image of God (Genesis 1:26-28). In Psalm 8 we read that all have equal dignity in the eyes of God. All people deserve respect and are equally loved by God (John 3:16). As Christians we are called to love our neighbour as ourselves (Mark 12:31). A fundamental feature of being part of the church, the Body of Christ on earth, is unity in diversity.
Our Diocese in Europe is running an international Racial Justice Conference from 8th-11th November 2023 as part of our continuing movement and campaign to ensure greater belonging and healing. The conference will give the opportunity to analyse afresh racism and the colonial heritage, to address the reality of racial injustice, visible and invisible, that still prevails in the life of the church, to formulate practical ways of overcoming racism and to be advocates for those racially minoritised in church and society. If you are interested in attending please let me know.
At All Saints we aim to empower people across the church to celebrate the diversity of all and to strengthen our culture of welcome, so that everyone can feel safe, valued and included in the life of our church. Please come and test out our welcome!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
29th June 2023 – St John/San Juan
Last Friday night was one of great celebration at the beach here in Puerto de la Cruz, with huge bonfires and fireworks to commemorate ‘Noche San Juan’ – Saint John’s Eve. Starting at sunset on 23 June, the evenings celebration entails the lighting of huge bonfires on the beach, which the younger, and maybe not so young, show their bravery by jumping over these burning piles. The main celebration culminates with a massive firework display, before the revelry begins. I have found that the Canarian peoples are very good at turning any celebration into a Fiesta.
St. John the Baptist was, according to the Gospel of St. Luke Ch1, born six months before Jesus; therefore, the feast of John the Baptist was fixed on 24 June, six months before Christmas according to the old Roman calculation
The Feast of Saint John closely coincides with the June solstice, also referred to as Midsummer in the Northern Hemisphere. The Christian holy day is fixed at 24 June; but in most countries festivities are mostly held the night before, on Saint John’s Eve. This holiday is celebrated in many places throughout the Christian world. However the celebrations in most locations revolve around fire.
So what do we know about St. John The Baptist?
Scripture records that Mary was told by the angel Gabriel that her cousin Elizabeth was also with child. We know that Mary set out in haste to visit Elizabeth – a long and tedious journey in those days – and remained with her for a period of time during her pregnancy.
John, son of Elizabeth and Zacharias, was a child of God’s promise. His father Zacharias, a Hebrew priest, was struck dumb by the angel Gabriel when he would not believe the angel’s news that his wife Elizabeth (an older woman) would conceive a child. John was probably born at Ain-Karim, a small town southwest of Jerusalem. Zacharias received his voice back when, on the day of John’s circumcision and naming, he wrote down that the child’s name would be John.
Though cousins, John and Jesus did not live near one another and it is not known whether they met during childhood. After his birth, Scripture is silent about John until it records his appearance in the Judean desert where he lived as a hermit until about A.D. 27. When he was thirty, he began to preach on the banks of the Jordan against the evils of the times. Whilst preaching he attracted large crowds while he preached a baptism of repentance “for the Kingdom of Heaven is close at hand”. The presence of John and his disciples was not felt until about one year before the beginning of the ministry of Jesus. When Jesus came to him, John recognized Him as the Messiah and baptized Him, saying, “It is I who need baptism from You”. John inspired many of his followers to follow Christ when he designated Him “the Lamb of God” among them Andrew and John, who came to know Christ through John’s preaching.
When Jesus left to preach in Galilee, John continued preaching in the Jordan valley. Fearful of his great power with the people, Herod had him arrested and imprisoned, for John had denounced Herod’s adulterous and incestuous marriage with Herodias, wife of Herod’s half brother. John was beheaded at the request of Salome, daughter of Herodias, who asked for his head at the instigation of her mother.
The commemoration of John’s death is celebrated by the universal Church on August 29.
St. John is presented in the New Testament as the last of the Old Testament prophets. He is known as the Baptist, the Precursor, the Forerunner of Christ, because of his role in preparing the people for the coming of the Messiah. Other than that of the Lord Jesus and His Mother Mary, John is the only saint whose birthday is celebrated within the church’s liturgical year – June 24. He is also remembered on the Feast of His Martyrdom / Beheading, August 29.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
7th June 2023
Last Sunday in All Saints Church we celebrated The Holy Trinity.
When we’re talking about the Trinity, we have to be careful with definition. Honestly, we could spend an entire book just on this. I’m not going to do that, but I want to try to give you in just a few sentences what I think will be a somewhat clearer definition of what we mean when we talk about the Trinity.
When we’re talking about the Trinity, we mean that there is one God, who exists as three co-equal and co-eternal Persons: the Father, the Son, and the Spirit. They are one in being, united in essence, power, purpose, and glory, yet they are distinct in personality and function. If you can imagine a family with three children each are a distinct person but as a whole they comprise one family.
I think sometimes people think that the doctrine of the Trinity is contradictory. How can God be both one and three? But it’s not contradictory. We’re not violating any laws of logic here, because God is not one in three in the same sense, in the same ways. He is one in being; there is one essence that is God.
Yet they relate to us — the Father, Son, and Spirit relate to us in distinct ways. They are distinct in personality and in function; that is, they do different things. The Father doesn’t do what the Son does; the Son does things that are unique to him only, not what the Father does or what the Spirit does; and so on.
Now, that’s the doctrine of the Trinity in a nutshell. Much more could be said, but I think that’s enough for this message, and is probably familiar territory for many of our readers.
For those that want to explore this message further I urge you to read 2 Corinthians especially chapter 13 v14 (commonly known as ‘The Grace’) there you will find 3 key words – love, grace, and fellowship.
There we find the outline. I want us to see and hold dear in this life:-
1. The Love of the Trinity Is the Fountain of All Love and Grace
2. The Grace of the Trinity Is the Foundation of the Gospel of Our Salvation
3. Our Fellowship with the Trinity Is the Key to Living the Christian Life
Peter Lockyer
Reader
31st May 2023
On Facebook this week I was struck by a photo of a piece of fruit in front of a mirror. Looking in the mirror I saw a shiny, rosy apple but what the mirror didn’t show was the side facing away from it – a bruised, partly eaten and discoloured apple. The “perfection” was an illusion.
Watching a programme from The Chelsea Flower Show there was great encouragement for “wilding up” rather than for neatly tended “perfect” gardens. Poppies, daisies and other beautiful wild flowers were echoed along the route I took home on Pentecost Sunday. In church we had been encouraged to wear something red and the array of poppies reminded me of the sea of red across the church, to remind us of the tongues of fire which settled on the apostles on the day of Pentecost.
Thinking of “wilding”, where a gentle breeze blows seeds along roadsides and across fields I´m reminded that this is what the Holy Spirit will do for us, enabling us to plant seeds within our communities. In John´s Gospel Chapter 20 verses 19-23 Jesus encourages his disciples to receive the Holy Spirit. After this they spread the seeds of Christianity in the world.
A child was asked what she had done in school that day. “We learnt how to make babies,” was her reply. More than a little surprised and trying to keep her cool her grandmother responded, “That’s interesting. How do you make babies”? “It´s simple,” replied the girl. “You just change the “Y” to “I” and add “es”. At Pentecost God´s power was communicated in everyone´s own language. The Good News of Jesus came to all who were there in a way they could understand and from people with whom they would not otherwise have communicated. God´s love is for everyone, everywhere.
On Pentecost Sunday we prayed that the Spirit of peace would reconcile the peoples and nations of the world bringing an end to war, hatred and discrimination. This week may we continue in prayer for all those parts of our world needing the fruit of the Spirit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. We don´t need to be perfect, just willing to welcome, empower and forgive, as God´s love does for each of us.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
10th May 2023
Last Saturday saw the greatest show in London in the past 7 decades. I remember in June of 1952, when I was some 6 years old, I watched our late Queen Elizabeth being crowned, watching on a brand new state of the art television set in glorious Black and White on a 10” screen. I still remember seeing all the members of the armed forces in their uniforms and the peers in there robes and coronets. However I remember little of the ceremony itself, the anointing, crowning etc.
This time I managed to get a front row seat to watch the event, on my 40” inch colour television, However on this occasion I managed to follow the complete service in the Abbey and was moved by the ritual, pomp and circumstance of the occasion. The first moment that stood out for me, as a Welshman, was the Procession of faith leaders that was led by the Archbishop of Wales and Bishop of Bangor, The most Reverend Andrew John, in addition the procession of the King and Queen was lead by the Cross of Wales.
The first words spoken by a very confident Child of his Majesty’s Chapel Royal, Samuel Strachan, welcoming King Charles to the Abbey “Your Majesty, as children of the kingdom of God we welcome you in the name of the King of Kings”.
This statement had me almost in tears as it summed up, in my opinion, the whole ongoing continuity from generation to generation, both of the monarchy and the church.
King Charles’s response:
“In His name and after His example I come not to be served but to serve”
I feel this sums up the role of the monarch in a modern Britain. Following the example of Our Lord Jesus Christ during his time of ministry on earth who served both His Father and the people He ministered to and led.
The inclusive adaptation of the order of service to include all four nations of the United Kingdom, and many faiths other than that of The Established Anglican Church added much depth to the service and possibly made people who feel ‘outsiders’ due to race, colour, gender, belief or others on the margins of society get a sense of inclusiveness.
The second moment of emotion for me was when a neighbour of my late parents, Bryn Terfel sang a beautiful arrangement of ‘Kyrie Eleison’ in Welsh. I believe a first occasion for the Welsh language to be used in a British coronation service.
After the service the newly crowned monarch issued a message which I feel deserves wide distribution.
“We now rededicate our lives to serving the people of the United Kingdom, the Realms and Commonwealth.
As the Coronation weekend draws to a close, my wife and I just wanted to share our most sincere and heartfelt thanks to all those who have helped to make this such a special occasion.
We pay particular tribute to the countless people who have given their time and dedication to ensuring that the celebrations in London, Windsor and further afield were as happy, safe and enjoyable as possible.
To those who joined in the celebrations – whether at home, at street parties and lunches, or by volunteering in communities – we thank you, each and every one.
To know that we have your support and encouragement, and to witness your kindness expressed in so many different ways, has been the greatest possible Coronation gift, as we now rededicate our lives to serving the people of the United Kingdom, the Realms and Commonwealth.
Charles R”
Peter Lockyer
Reader
26th April 2023
This last weekend has, for me, been one of remembrance and memorial. Last week a dear friend of our church and Congregational Worship Leader of our congregation in La Palma, Allan Chopping, passed into God’s keeping. A Memorial service was held in the beautiful little church set in an idyllic location in the El Paso area of the Island.
Our assistant priest The Revd Rachel Ganney led the memorial service assisted by Revd Judy Horrocks from our sister congregation on Furteventura. The ministry team from All Saints and one of our Church Wardens were also there to pay the respects of the congregation in All Saints.
The small church of St. Martín de Porres was beautifully decorated with local flowers and was filled to overflowing by people of many nationalities who wished to support the family of Alan.
On return to Tenerife Sunday brought another memorial service, this time to remember the lives lost in the DanAir Flight 1008 which crashed, near the town of La Esperanza on 25th. April 1980. This service was also led by The Revd Rachael Ganney, and held in the Rose Garden created to perpetuate the memory of the lives lost. This Service was attended by the congregation which included members of the Town Council of Puerto de la Cruz.
I have been often asked why we hold these memorial services. It’s because we believe that life is more than this flimsy skin and bones. We hold them because we believe that love extends beyond this physical being. We want to reconstruct, to re-member those who are no longer with us in their bodies. At these memorial services we are present with each other, hopefully we can find that inner strength which comes when we share something deep and meaningful and tender with others who are going through similar pain.
In case you didn’t already know it, the emotions that come when somebody you love dies are not always recognizable as grief. Sometimes you feel disbelief. You may find yourself still looking for your loved one …and sometimes even “see” him or her in a crowd, or hear that wonderful voice, as we will do when remembering Alan. Sometimes you feel irritated or depressed or guilty. Sometimes, you feel numb, or even like you might be going crazy. Sometimes you may even feel hatred, betrayal, or a sense of abandonment.
Grief is like a tidal wave that picks you up and tosses you around and bumps you into unidentifiable surfaces, and then casts you out onto an unfamiliar beach, devastated. And just when you think you might be recovering, the wave sweeps over you again.
Sometimes you think that no one in the whole world, the whole world, could ever have felt this kind of agony. And yet we’re all here, together, because we have all loved and lost and are suffering from it. And that means we’re NOT alone. So whatever you’re feeling right now, just accept it and allow it to be.
Many of us have been through a lot. Love is all around us, in the disguise of all these feelings. All of these feelings you may be having since your loved one or dear friend died are because you LOVE so deeply.
Everyday let us recognize that we don’t hurt alone. We can allow ourselves time to share memories and tears with others who also know love and how it hurts. Also we can cling to the assurance that as we remember our loved ones by stating again how THEY lived and changed our lives JUST BY BEING, death will not have the final word.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
19th April 2023
Driving home today I was very conscious of the enormous piles of earth as the road works continue for the new tunnel to connect Santiago del Teide with El Tanque. The island’s ring road will be completed once this tunnel is opened. The Erjos double tunnel is the largest currently being built in Spain and when complete will be 5.1 km long. It is expected that the tunnel which was originally due to be completed this November will be completed in March 2025 – a change in the plans and the pandemic having lengthened its completion date. Anyone visiting the area will notice a difference to the road lay out and the bridge supports being constructed. However even more is going on under the surface, with an average of 8 metres a day being drilled and the expectation that the North and South will meet before the summer. Growth and change, both visible and invisible from our standpoint.
This Sunday in All Saints we marked another change – that of our new server, 12-year-old Vlad, being trained by Maggie. It´s hard to believe that it is only a year since Vlad and his family left their home in Ukraine to make Tenerife their temporary home. His younger brother spoke no English and neither boy spoke Spanish. So many changes and growth in language skills (and height)! Some changes are visible and others are hidden. As we plan for the Annual Meeting of our Chaplaincy we will see some changes here as we move forward – both in the appointment of our chaplain and some new council members. Our hope is that Revd Fiona will arrive sooner rather than later . . . Visa paperwork takes so much longer than pre-Brexit.
Our Sunday Gospel reading told of Jesus appearing to Thomas, and how Thomas needed to have a personal encounter for himself rather than taking the word of his fellow disciples. Jesus invited Thomas, as He does us, to grow in his faith journey. We too are encouraged to ask questions, to be wise and discerning. Let us take our inspiration from Thomas – he wanted the truth for himself, not someone else´s truth. Let us continue to grow and change for the better. Thomas´ doubt led to questions and questioning led him on a journey. May we each continue to grow and change, both visibly and within ourselves.
Judith Rigby
Congregational worship Leader
12th April 2023
EASTER WEEK
We have entered Easter Week with the events of Holy Week now behind us.
The events of Holy Week (Semana Santa) have been celebrated in the Canary Islands since medieval times. The largest island of Tenerife, our home, is no exception, and its historical cities see countless religious ceremonies and street processions throughout the week leading to Easter. The celebration starts on Palm Sunday and continues to Easter Day. During the solemn season, most Roman Catholic congregations have at least one daily procession with a church service. But, the most remarkable day is Good Friday commemorating the death and burial of Jesus Christ.
The most memorable of these processions involve members of different religious brotherhoods. The iconic “penitents” wearing long cloaks with pointed hoods that totally cover their faces and revealing only their eyes. Other participants of solemn parades are “Nazarenos” who typically walk barefoot and carry shackles or large wooden crosses. Also, it’s common to parade huge floats with heavy religious statues through the streets, carried by dozens of people. The parades make painfully slow progress, traditionally accompanied with sombre religious music with the slow beats of drums and often a brass band.
The very special occasion not to miss in La Laguna is its Good Friday evening procession — ‘Procesion del Silencio’ or the Silent Procession. The town goes completely quiet, street lights shut down, and the town is illuminated solely by candles. The pious brotherhood parade departs at around 9:30 pm from the Iglesia de la Concepción. A slow pace set by the ominous drumbeat creates a moving and a bit unnerving atmosphere. I have attended on previous occasions and which I will never forget the emotions it produced.
Easter Sunday brings the joy of Resurrection and, well, lots of food. Lent is over, so families celebrate with local delicacies like sancocho (salted fish served with potatoes), rancho canario (a Canarian answer to Irish Stew) gofio (traditional local grain substitute) and mojo (a signature Canarian sauce).
In All Saints our commemorations of the events were much less flamboyant, however we observed very moving services on Maundy Thursday (remembering the Last Supper) and Good Friday with our own procession around the Church acknowledging the ‘Stations of the Cross’. Then on Easter Sunday the mood changed to one of celebration, with a joyful service commemorating Our Lord’s Resurrection. This was followed by a lunch for the congregation. A very happy gathering, despite the fact that we were also saying farewell to Father Richard Frost our locum Chaplain and his wife Jill.
We also continue to pray, and we hope all readers of this midweek message will also pray with us, for a new Chaplain to be sent to our Chaplaincy.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
4th April 2023
EASTER JOY AND BLESSING
I can recall as a child the wonderful moment on Easter Sunday when the chocolate eggs were handed around. Some big some full of other goodies but what mouth watering joy it was as the creamy substance rolled down my chin. If I am honest I didn’t have a clue about the Christian symbolism the eggs represented. No doubt today my own grandchildren would feel the same. The idea of New life and New birth, Jesus’s emergence from the tomb and Resurrection would be a far cry from that yummy “heavenly moment”.
Easter is the defining heavenly time in the Christian calendar which has resonated down the centuries with life changing consequences. Whatever you believe or not, one thing is certain something happened on that first Easter morn which has stood the test of time. As the noon day sun reaches its highest point in the heavens so Easter is the zenith of the Christian Faith. The Bible teaches ‘Jesus is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow’. The ‘Emmanuel’ ( God with us ) of the nativity becomes a living, life changing reality for all who put their faith and trust in the one true and living God. In a world which is ever changing spiritual awakening and renewed hope lie at the very heart of the Easter message. A reminder above all the Love of God is a constant as the ebb and flow of the ocean.
It is this constant that gets us through life. If we are honest, in a world which is ever changing, life for us all can be up one minute and down the next with all its complexities.
God through His love assures us even at the toughest of times you do pull through, you do get passed them through the power of the Holy Spirit that lives in you.
The Bible often coins the phrase ‘And it came to pass’. . . something foretold was going to happen. Jesus foretold his own passing and that He would rise again to new life. The book of Revelation(21) foretells God’s continuing promise to the world in the aftermath of the Resurrection – ‘I am making everything new. These words are trustworthy and true’.
And so it will come to pass in our lives as God works His purposes out for good, His words are trustworthy and true. As God through His infinite love is in control of every aspect of this world. The Resurrection of Christ is a poignant reminder of passing from death to New life. In essence we live to die, Jesus dies to live and never to die again. Through faith we are immersed in His Risen life as he is immersed in ours. I pray the Easter joy, the sense of New life and renewed hope will fall on you afresh as you put your faith and trust in the Risen Lord Jesus Christ.
Revd Richard Frost – Locum Chaplain
8th February 2023
Revd Richard Cattley
1st February 2023
We are now almost at the end of the spring Romerías, and I have been asked by several visitors what these Fiestas are and their history. I have discovered that these events which occur at several villages around the Island, notable in Arona, Tigaiga and Buenavista, venerate the memory of Saint Antonio Abad who is known as the patron saint of many groups including amputees, gravediggers and epileptics. But, he is probably most famous as the patron saint of animals, domestic or otherwise. Thus the Romerías also include a livestock fair. They occur in the spring and are calling blessings on the animals, and the land for the coming productive season.
In the English tradition Saint Antonio Abad is generally known as Anthony the Great, who was born in Egypt in about 12th January 251 and died 17th January 356 at the grand old age of 105.
He lived the life of an hermit and is thought to be the first Monk. Anthony was not the first ascetic or hermit, but he may properly be called the “Father of Monasticism” in Christianity, as he organized his disciples into a community and later, following the spread of Athanasius’s hagiography, was the inspiration for similar communities throughout Egypt and elsewhere. Macarius the Great was a disciple of Anthony. Visitors travelled great distances to see the celebrated holy man. Anthony is said to have spoken to those of a spiritual disposition, leaving the task of addressing the more worldly visitors to Macarius. Macarius later founded a monastic community in the Scetic desert.
The fame of Anthony spread and reached Emperor Constantine, who wrote to him requesting his prayers. The brethren were pleased with the Emperor’s letter, but Anthony was not overawed and wrote back exhorting the Emperor and his sons not to esteem this world but remember the next.
In 338, he left the desert temporarily to visit Alexandria to help refute the teachings of Arius. He then returned to his life as an hermit.
After his death Anthony was interred, according to his instructions, in a grave next to his cell.
Back to Tenerife and the Romerías. These follow a similar pattern wherever they are celebrated. Starting with a Mass in the Parish Church, followed by a procession bearing an image of the Saint through the streets to the village square where all the local animals, oxen, sheep, goats and other farm livestock, also a whole collection of domestic animals of all shapes and sizes are amassed, and, amid the noise, smells, and confusion, the Priest blesses all the animals.
Then the local produce is presented to the assembled crowd and the party begins. The Canary Islanders are very good at turning Religious events into Fiestas. So amid the cacophony of noise, aromas etc. from all the animals and the colourful and intricate local costumes of the islanders, with the aid of the local band(s) of musicians the dancing and partying continues into the late evening.
Long live the traditions of the Island with the joy that the Christian fellowship brings. As we leave the season on Romerías we move forward into the Carnival season, with its associated Fiestas and maybe excess, leading up to the period of fasting in Lent.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
25th January 2023
A queue of cars along the road from early morning; people unloading and setting up their pitch area; cases, boxes, railings, racks and tables laden; a long queue shuffling forward to be one of the first through the gates to bag a bargain, a gift or just for a mooch among the fruit and veg, books, bric a brac, clothing, jewellery, pies, crafts or paintings… This is a picture of the popular monthly All Saints Car Boot sale.
Walking through the church and parsonage grounds it´s often struck me how one person´s trash really is another person´s treasure. Looking at the various stalls you see the hard work behind the crafts, the talents behind the home-grown fruit and veg, the paintings and the pies, the growth of babies into children and children into youth as toys and games that are no longer played with are looking for a new home and clothing looking for a new wardrobe, to enable space in its original.
So many reasons for being there from raising funds for a charity, making money to pay the bills, finding an outlet for a talent, a place to meet up with friends, to spot a bargain or just the smell of the homecooked burgers with onions made by the church team! So many reasons and so many opportunities. So many assets and so many treasures. Our next Car Boot Sale is from 10:00 on February 4th. Do come and see for yourself!
The extremes of weather in different parts of the world this last month have brought into focus stories of those who have lost all their belongings and their homes in floods or fires as well as those who have had to flee leaving all behind to escape war torn countries. In those situations treasures and “stuff” lose their value as assets. What would you grab or save in one of those challenging situations? Would it be photos or letters or something small that could be carried on your person? What would you put into one small rucksack? It´s challenging isn´t it when so many of us have so much?
Perhaps we can all learn from a young girl who was comforting her parents at the scene of the third flood after Christmas in less than a year. “Don´t worry we still have each other. It´s love and being with each other that is the most important thing in our family. I don´t need my presents. I just need you.”
Despite all our “stuff” our most valuable assets are a heart full of love, an ear ready to listen and a hand willing to help one another. Sharing those assets enable each of us to recognise our worth and to grow as individuals and as a community. This coming week let us be grateful for not just what but who we have in our life and let´s seek to be an asset in someone else´s.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
18th January 2023
PRAYER FOR CHRISTIAN UNITY
January 2023
I guess we all know how much easier it is to sit comfortably in our own tradition, and remain untroubled by those who see their faith expressed in a different way. It is alluring to want to live and worship only with those who are like-minded. And I am not confusing Unity with Uniformity.
But the question still nags. Do we prefer staying safe and secure with what we know, rather than reach out to try and understand the unsure road of the prophet Isaiah, who would create a new heaven and a new earth, and let the former things pass away?
I am fervently in favour of unity and pray for it – but it’s difficult to imagine something I’ve never experienced. And maybe that’s because I simply don’t know what I’m missing.
For me, it’s best summed up in the story of an oriental king visiting England for the first time for the Diamond Jubilee of Queen Victoria. The Queen came to the subject of non-Christian religions, and she said: ‘I have never been able to comprehend how anyone could worship the sun.’ The king, wistfully thinking of the warmth of his homeland replied: ‘Quite so, madam. But if you had ever actually seen the sun, you might think differently.’
My prayer is that the Lord will open our eyes to the full splendour of his grace, that we may respond to him more readily; that we might begin to want the gifts he has to give and discover the will to desire what is better than what we have now.
With my blessing,
Fr Peter Cavanagh
Locum Priest
11th January 2023
The good old Book of Common Prayer still has much to commend it. Not the least of its virtues is an additional title to the festival we celebrate this week – the Epiphany, or, “The manifestation of Christ to the gentiles.” That’s an alternative title that can help us open-up what Epiphany really means.
Unless we’re Jewish the word ‘gentile’ doesn’t mean much to us. But just change the word “gentile” to “outsider” – because that’s what other races were as far as Jews were concerned – and change ‘manifestation’ to ‘revealed’ and Epiphany comes alive: “the revealing of Christ to the outsiders”. At the heart of this Feast lies the simple assertion that, in Jesus Christ, there are no outsiders.
So who are the outsiders for us? Maybe they are asylum seekers: maybe the hooligans or social security abusers. Maybe your outsiders are young people or old people or, people whose lives are lived differently from ours. We’ve all got those we think of as outsiders and we need to remember that it was for people like this, and as varied as this, that God was willing to reveal himself in human form, and it was for people like this that Jesus was willing to die.
So we’ve got to be careful about the Epiphany. The stable was certainly nothing at all like the Renaissance or Baroque masterpieces we see on our Christmas cards: it was, as the carol says, ‘rude and bare’, a cold, inhospitable cave with animal muck on the floor. The revelation of Christ to the outsiders is more likely to involve similar dinginess – that of a prison cell or a bomb site where drug addicts degrade themselves or down and outs neglect themselves. Thank God there are some followers of the Gospel in those place as well, for God is not only to be found and worshipped inside churches. Epiphany is about God coming to meet us AND the outsiders, where we all are: it’s about God revealing himself in Jesus in a way we can begin to grasp how much he loves us.
So we can’t feel superior to those we call “outsiders”. Epiphanytide reminds us that our concern must be for those who are different for whatever reason. If we’re ever to do something about that it can be costly and painful. But then, God’s salvation may be free, but it’s not light and easy, but won through sorrow. Thanks be to God for his loving-kindness.
With my blessing this holy season
Fr Peter Cavanagh
Locum Priest
4th January 2023
Writing this at the start of 2023 I’m reminded of the poem written in 1908 by Minnie Louise Haskins and quoted by King George VI in his 1939 wartime Christmas broadcast.
“I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year: Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown, and he replied: Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than light and safer than a known way. So I went forth and finding the hand of God trod gladly into the night. And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of the day in the East.”
The popular name given to this poem is “The Gate of the Year”. Yet the title given to it by the poet was “God Knows”. So much has gone on in our world in 2022 and stepping into 2023 we can hold fast to the God who knows us as individuals and within community.
“Go out into the darkness” reminded me of a trip to Cueva del Viento, underground lava tubes near Icod, where when the guide told us to switch off our headlights, we were in total darkness. The desire for light before we set off walking again was self-evident. We needed to be able to see where we were going. Wouldn’t it be foolish to step out into the unknown? We would likely injure ourselves or another.
As we step into 2023 with all the unknowns ahead of us both personally, communally and internationally this poem reminds me that in placing our trust and ourselves into the hand of God we can be secure in the knowledge that He holds us and walks alongside. Listening to a reflection from Christina, one of the church wardens in Kyiv, I was struck by how she spoke of the miracles of God in the midst of the challenges of life in a war zone. It would have been so easy to focus on the lack of water, electricity and the cold and fear amidst the sirens and the ruins and devastation. Instead she spoke of the tiny miracles and the God who was with them in the midst of it all.
The phrase “so I went forth” reminded me that there needs to be movement. In taking the first step the “I” found God´s hand. The person travelled into the unknown, into the darkness and yet was not alone. As we look back over last year I´m sure that each of us is in a different place from the start of 2022. We´ve experienced many things that might not have been on our annual “to do” list. Each is like a jigsaw piece, part of a whole, of the unknown puzzle called life. As we move into 2023 let´s cling to the light, to a God who tells us “I am the Light of the World” and pray asking for His wisdom and guidance in the dark spaces in our world and our personal situations.
“And He led me towards the hills and the breaking of the day in the East” …there is always daybreak and though we might not always see the sun, it rises each day. Light does conquer darkness. You´ve only got to strike a match in any dark space to recognise that. As we move into 2023 we pray for our brothers and sisters in those places of darkness and despair for miracles of light and love to encompass them.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
28th December 2022
The feast of Christmas, celebrating the birth of Jesus Christ, was celebrated in All Saints Church, Puerto de la Cruz with services on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. As we now progress through the traditional 12 Days of Christmas to the 6th of January when tradition has it that the three wise men, (Also known as the 3 Kings) brought gifts to the infant Jesus. In the present day adults and children alike have or are preparing to receive and give gifts. Children, specifically, wait for Santa Claus or the 3 Kings or St. Nicholas with baited breath. What is the origin of these gift bringers, and how did they become the jolly givers of gifts to the world?
The legend of Santa Claus can be traced as far back as the 4th Century, in Turkey, to a very real man named St. Nicholas. St. Nicholas was the Bishop of Smyrna, which was a Greek community in the 300s. During his appointment as bishop, St. Nicholas was aware of a minor noble in failing health with three young daughters. Because he could not afford the dowry for his daughters, he was going to sell them into a life of prostitution. This is not the happy origin story most people expect, but it does finish with a happy ending. In the dead of night, St. Nicholas is said to have gifted the noble three bags of gold, enough to act as dowry so the three ladies could properly be married off and live happily.
This story lays down the first legend for St. Nicholas the gift giver. The image of St. Nicholas bringing gifts to only the daughters could give power to the tradition of Santa bringing gifts to only children. The road to the European tradition of Santa Claus is long, and much like the gift giver’s origin story, not what everyone expects. On 6th December in the Netherlands, St. Nicholas, or Sinterklaas, still rides into town on a white horse, dressed in his red bishop’s robes and preceded by “Black Peter,” a Satanic figure in an outlandish costume who beats the bad children with a stick while rewarding the good children with candy and gifts.
The red bishop’s robes have been considerably shortened down to the red coat Santa wears in the current visualization. Figures such as “Black Peter” appear in many cultures with legends like Krampus of Germany, a devilish figure that treats bad children in a similar fashion to Black Peter. Perhaps the split of duties between Santa Claus, Black Peter, and Krampus is where the famous Naughty and Nice list comes from?
British do their gift exchanging on Christmas Day or Christmas Eve, but in the Netherlands, Switzerland, Germany, Spain and some other European countries, presents are still opened on 5th December, which is St. Nicholas’s Eve, or 6th December, St. Nicholas’s Day. Santa Claus is believed to be an international figure due to the believe that he goes from the North Pole and gives gifts the world over, but to many nations and cultures, he is still the old St. Nicholas. Door to door carolling can be traced back to ancient Greece, as well.
St. Nicholas as Santa Claus has been established, but how does St. Nicholas fit into Christmas? The gifts of the Wise Men to the baby Christ is a very easy and simple tie to St. Nicholas, though St. Nicholas’s gifts were not to the King of Man, but to save three young women from the profession of Mary Magdalene, one of Christ’s closest followers. Also note the connection of three Wise Men and St. Nicholas saving the fate of three women in the Christmas narrative.
In the mid 19th Century, Christmas began to acquire its associations with an increasingly secularized holiday of gift-giving and good cheer, a view that was popularized in works such as Clement Clarke Moore’s 1823 poem “A Visit from St. Nicholas” and Charles Dickens’s 1843 story A Christmas Carol. The current concept Santa Claus was first made popular in New York in the 19th century and highly marketed on the internet and by Coca-Cola in the 20th.
In the Christmas Season it’s fun to look back at the old stories and traditions of one of the world’s most celebrated holidays. Because Christmas is celebrated by so many in so many different ways, let us all come together at this season of the year and celebrate the gifts and people we are so fortunate to have this hopefully happy season, always remembering, and praying for, those who are unable to celebrate with us.
When I first came to Tenerife children were encouraged to write to the 3 Kings with their desires for gifts for delivery on 5th January. However with the influence of Hollywood and the internet, Santa Claus also became a person with whom to correspond, and now I hear of many youngsters ‘hedging their bets’ and writing 2 letters every year!
Peter Lockyer
Reader
20th December 2022
How would you sum up how the last few weeks have been for you?
For me I´d describe it as a “time for making room” …for a tree, for decorations, for a travel cot and a highchair, for a camp bed in an already overcrowded office, for food and drink for 5 rather than just 1, for suitcases and all that´s contained within them. As a result the shredder has had the cobwebs dusted off it, the charity shop has received a large black sack and the apartment has been spring cleaned throughout. Nothing like having 5 visitors arriving for their holidays! Making room has involved cleaning, clearing, sorting and decision making.
Joining in the Carol Service in La Palma involved another sort of making room. The beautiful church up in the forest was bursting at the seams. We squashed up and moved along benches until there was standing room only. Last Sunday during our 11:00 service our children´s table filled up and we needed a second. In these occasions the making room was more than just giving space. It involved welcoming with a smile, generosity and selflessness.
We read in the story of Jesus’ birth that there was no room for Mary and Joseph at the inn when they arrived in Bethlehem – unless you are the 5-year-old innkeeper who has been standing there throughout his first Christmas play, with nothing to say but just to shake his head when asked a question. Not to be outdone by others with more lines he looks up, catches his teacher´s eye and says very confidently in response to Joseph´s request for a room at the inn: “Yes of course, come in. We have plenty of rooms here. Take your pick!” Maybe that young boy can be an example for each of us in that he wanted to make room for this family who had travelled far. Since February we have heard of so many who have made room for others in their homes. If you would like to pray specifically for the situation in Ukraine please join us on the Diocese in Europe´s YouTube page at 17:30 BST on Wednesday 21st. We will be hearing from and praying with the Archbishop of Canterbury who has recently visited Kyiv with Bishop Robert.
At this time of year, amidst all the holiday festivities may we each find time and room for Jesus, the reason for the season. Here in Tenerife depending on where you come from, Christmas is celebrated on 6th, 24th or 25th December or 6th January. Let´s pray that this year as well as making room for family and friends we will make room for Jesus in our hearts and lives. You will be very welcome to join us in All Saints on 24th and 25th December at 11:00 for both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day services. Plenty of room for all!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
14th December 2022
At this time of year, the run up to Christmas, and seeing so many images of snow in the UK I’m reminded of the story of the farmer whose wife had left him at home while she went to the church Carol Service. Just after she had left flurries of snow began to fall. While the farmer was working he heard a loud thump, followed by a series of further thumps on the patio doors.
He went outside to see what was happening and in the middle of his field stood a flock of migrating geese. With the snowstorm they had become disorientated and were now stranded on the farm, unable to see their way through the snow.
The farmer considered that the best way to help them was to give them shelter in his barn. He opened the door and moved away hoping they would find their way inside but the geese didn’t appear to understand. So he attempted to shoo them inside but they ran in different directions. Reflecting on the situation he decided to lay a trail of bread to the barn door but they didn’t follow it. Nothing he did to offer the warmth and shelter of the barn made any difference.
Frustrated, he pondered: “Why don´t they follow me into this barn? This is where they need to be in order to survive.” Instinctively he realised that they would never follow a person. “If only I could become like one of them then I could explain to them about what the barn can offer and lead them to safety in the storm.”
As he pondered on this he realised that this was precisely why God became one of us that first Christmas. God became small to come down to our level. He came to us in the mess of this world, in the mess of our own lives to lead us to safety, to lead us to himself.
He finally understood why his wife had gone to the Carol Service. In the busyness of the coming weeks let´s pause to think about this, because if it´s true it´s not just “a nice story” but the greatest miracle of all. Come and join us at our Carol Service on Thursday 15th at 6:00 in All Saints Church, Taoro Park, Puerto de la Cruz. You will be very welcome.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
7th December 2022
A few evenings ago I was sitting quietly reading a book when the peace of the neighbourhood was shattered by a loud crashing sound. I looked out to the street to see what was causing this peace shattering noise, only to find it was being caused by a couple of young lads with a collection of tin cans threaded onto wires which they were dragging along the road.
It then clicked – it was the eve of St. Andrew’s Day. Now St. Andrew is the Patron saint of the Island of Tenerife, amongst other places including Ukraine, Russia and Scotland.
On every eve of St. Andrew’s day in Puerto de la Cruz the celebration known as “Los Cacharros” (roughly meaning “the clutter”) involves tying cans and tins to a piece of metal wire and dragging them along the streets. Young people and tourists gather in the Town Square – Plaza del Charco – to throw piles of clutter and any old objects that hit the ground with a clatter which can be heard all around the streets. The adults also meet in the square where the “Castañada” or chestnut fest is held, during which you can taste some of the Island’s typical products: chestnuts, wreckfish, sardines, gofio bread, sweet potatoes and new wine.
Whilst in the neighbouring town of Icod de los Vinos the traditional ceremony takes place when young and not-so-young adrenaline-seekers clamber onto wooden boards and slide down the steep street of Calle del Plano. Adding to the whooshing and crashing of the boards is the sweet smell of young wine. Under the moonlight, grape harvesters pop open their wines from the latest vintage in a ritual that also takes place in many other towns and villages. The Tenerife answer to ‘Beaujolais Nouveau’? maybe…
Back to the clattering tin cans of Puerto de la Cruz and the ‘clutter’. I’m sure that many of us have a lot of ‘clutter’ in our lives. In many households there is a table that is the place that many things accumulate. It becomes the easiest place to put stuff. Toys, Mail, Homework, Cups, More Cups. The tabletop makes it simpler to just move things around rather than to put them away! So after a while it accumulates a collection of unrelated objects into one centralised location, which is called clutter.
This can be a lot like one’s life. We are forever piling one thing after another onto the table of our life. There are always more things we should be concerned about, and give attention to, and make room for – Somehow…
Before long one’s life is full of clutter, This is the way it remains until God’s elbow grease intervenes, mighty to sweep and clears the table.
Which He will do for us – 2 Corinthians 5 v6-10.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
30th November 2022
Happy New Year! This past Sunday marked the beginning of the Church’s year. The First Sunday of Advent is the start of the season of expectation and preparation as the church prepares to remember and celebrate the birth of Christ. In this Advent season we are on a journey, both looking back and looking forward to Christ’s coming again. What God has done is the reason we can have faith in what He will do. Our world faces much uncertainty at this time and there are many who are struggling financially or as a result of natural and man-made disasters. If we took a map of the world it is likely we could find somewhere in most countries where life is challenging. At this time of year we are faced with adverts for so many items that we “need” for a happy Christmas.
I’m reminded of the story of Elijah and the widow in 1 Kings chapter 17 verses 7-16. Elijah had travelled to Zarephath because his source of water from the brook had dried up. He had faith to believe that God would continue to take care of him, as He had in the past. Obeying God he walked about 100 miles believing that God would provide for him. As soon as he arrived in Zarephath he saw a woman gathering sticks. He asked for water to drink, and he also asked for bread. Her response was interesting: As the Lord your God lives I do not have bread, but I do have a handful of flour and a little oil in a jar. Did she recognise that here was a man of God?
The widow was instructed by Elijah to make a small loaf of bread to give to him and then another for herself and her son. She was assured that in doing so she would see the provision of God. She obeyed and baked the bread using all that she had. What should have been empty jars of flour and oil didn’t run out. This continued and she had enough for each day to make the bread. God provided for Elijah and the widow. It wasn’t plentiful but it was enough. It took care of today. It was a daily exercise of faith for him and for her. The widow gave away what she had with generosity. In obedience she used all the flour and oil each day and yet there was always sufficient for the coming day.
May this Advent season be a time for each of us to give generously and to wait expectantly knowing that as God was for Elijah and the widow so He is our provider. God promises enough for the day to each of one of us and to our community of All Saints. The Christmas adverts might tell us that we are looking for abundance, even super abundance. Enough is what we are promised in scripture. Enough is all we need. We continue to rely on the faithfulness of God, trusting that He will provide sufficient for each day.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
23rd November 2022
I have just been told by the Diocesan Office in London that I am due to renew my Safeguarding Training to work with vulnerable adults and children. It’s easy to be sniffy about being required to do regular training. As I will be 75 next year I’m probably categorised as a vulnerable adult myself! So now I have booked myself on to a two day Zoom course in January.
The recently released figures of child abuse perpetrated in our churches and by clergy of all denominations are horrendous……we’re talking in thousands not hundreds….and something has to be done and fast. For too long the powers that be have been more concerned with maintaining the reputation of the church than caring for the victims themselves. To coin a phrase “dead cats have been thrown over walls” and the word “coverup” has been the currency of those who should know better.
Last Sunday, 20th November, was Safeguarding Sunday, and churches all around the world were encouraged to acknowledge it in some form or other. But why should we care, after all we are a happy bunch of people, nothing bad could happen here! Think back to the “Good Old Days” everyone harks on about, they weren’t so good for all were they? We now know awful things happened to vulnerable children and adults in many places and were hidden and covered up. The institution was more important than the individuals harmed, sometimes for ever.
Safeguarding in relation to the church is all about making our churches safe places for all to attend. As a church we care for one another and the wider community and it is up to all of us to play our part in ensuring that all are safe.
We all understand the need for children to be protected from all types of harm, predators, groomers, cruelty or misinformation, the list is endless. But who is a vulnerable adult? There are times in our lives when we are all vulnerable to being taken advantage of: financially, physically, mentally or through on-line scammers. Just think about it.
So what are we doing centrally in the Church of England, the Diocese in Europe and in this chaplaincy on Tenerife? We are promoting a safer church, the “Church of England’s Safeguarding Policy”. Practically that means all church leaders and people engaged in various roles within the church have to undergo safeguarding training. This ensures that we are aware of safeguarding issues and how to deal with them. Some of those in main leadership roles also have to obtain Police clearance. However safeguarding is everyone´s responsibility. We have policies and training but the key thing is to put those into action. The noticeboard at the back of church displays the parish safeguarding agreement and we ensure safeguarding is on every council agenda.
If you have any concerns or worries relating to safeguarding, speak to Judith or any council member. Never let it be said, we didn’t care or couldn’t be bothered to help those in need.
Fr Robert Ellis
Locum Priest
16th November 2022
This past week I had time “to kill” at the airport and thought I would use it to revise little Spanish words that I often forgot when I first started lessons. Top of the list given by my Spanish teacher was “y” meaning “and”. I didn´t get much further as the British Legion had a stall nearby and I found myself reflecting on Remembrance Sunday…with more “ands”. A time to remember the service AND the sacrifice of all those who defended our freedom AND protected our way of life. Last Sunday we came together to remember AND pray for all those who gave their lives AND those impacted by war, both in the past AND today.
I wonder which “ANDS” come to mind for you this week? At our Chaplaincy Council meeting on Monday we found ourselves facing both the financial challenges that come with the responsibility of our buildings AND the desire to develop and build community.
Rainbows are the result of sunshine AND rain. Without action our spirituality can become lifeless and bear no fruit. Without contemplation our doing can come from a “me” perspective. Each of us has a part to play in our chaplaincy´s mission and outreach – a whole community with action AND contemplation at the centre. As we pray in the coming weeks for the interview process for our new chaplain let´s remember God´s promise of rescue to His people: I will make an unbreakable covenant with you AND give you steadfast love. They will be my people AND I will be their God.
Listening to reports from COP 27 another AND from Egypt´s President struck me: “I deeply believe that COP27 is an opportunity to showcase unity against an existential threat that we can only overcome through concerted action AND effective implementation.”
The world has come a long way in the fight against climate change AND its negative impacts on our planet. We are now better able to understand the science behind climate change, better assess its impacts AND better develop tools to address its causes AND consequences. The hope from this gathering is that a collective approach to tackling the challenge of climate change is resilient, committed, effective AND delivering. May we each play our part so that food and water security will be a reality for all AND that countries and communities in climate vulnerable situations will have their basic needs met and homes protected.
In life it seems there are often both challenges AND opportunities. Let´s take time to notice the “ANDs” that we are presented with this week and pray that we will be blessed with both freedom AND light to lift AND carry us through the challenges we are faced with, knowing that, in His Word, God has promised to be with us always.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
1st November 2022
So much of life seems to be in a state of flux at the moment. In the UK, recent political events have been breath-taking in their suddenness. Only 44 days after taking office, Prime Minister Liz Truss, concluded she couldn’t deliver her programme of reform and resigned. By the time you read this reflection, the UK is likely to have its third Prime Minister this year. Such instability has serious knock-on effects for our friends and families at home as they face increased costs of borrowing and purchasing. As it happens, I think I am the third locum to serve this chaplaincy since Fr Ron`s sad death earlier this year. Others are likely to follow, before, we pray, a new permanent chaplain is appointed to lead you in your mission and witness. Meanwhile, so much of the responsibility for leadership and organisation falls on the excellent team of workers here at All Saints, notably our two Wardens, Wendy and Dawn. We owe them a great debt for all that is done – often behind the scenes.
The theme of change and momentum is also found in the Lectionary. Most of my Sundays here have been ‘Sundays after Trinity’ – 19 of them in total this year. However, last Sunday, October 30th – which we kept as the Patronal Festival of All Saints – was also the first Sunday of the Kingdom Season (or Fourth Sunday before Advent). Suddenly, we become aware that the Church Year is coming to an end. With Advent we begin a new one (Year A, with the focus returning to St Matthew`s Gospel) and Christmas comes ever closer.
Since I arrived, towards the end of August, apart from when I’ve been leading worship, I’ve been in summer shorts almost every day. What a change awaits me back in Wales. Yet even in Tenerife, I’ve noticed a less intense heat and the welcome cooler breezes of Autumn. In our own lives, too, change and upheaval leave their mark. Some of us will have lost loved ones this year, or experienced a loss of mobility or independence. Others might find the process of ageing a challenge, irritated at not being able to do all that was possible previously. I know the feeling! The Archbishop of Canterbury gave a lecture during a visit to the diocese of Sodor and Man in 2000, in which he referred to that line from the hymn, ‘Change and decay in all around I see’ (1). Perhaps thats how it seems to many people.
I suspect that it was a sense of things being in a state of flux that also accounted for the sense of loss that followed the late Queen`s death. She represented, for many people, values of continuity and constancy. It was my privilege during that time to be part of the various services at All Saints, and in south Tenerife, when the Queen`s memory was honoured. But the Church, too, represents these values. For other religious traditions, Friday is the holy day of prayer. Yet others mark the seventh day of the week as a Sabbath of rest. But for us, Sunday, since Biblical times, is the day when we remember Jesus’ resurrection, and claim the new life that he promises, now and forever. Year by year, we continue to follow the same seasons and festivals. Prayers we learned in childhood remain vibrant and lively. People who were formative in our spiritual growth or who influenced us for good are remembered, the Scriptures are read and shared, and the Eucharist celebrated regularly. These are the tools of the Faith that help keep us rooted in the Lord. In that context, let me note my thanks to all who read the Lessons on Sundays and Wednesdays, who prepare intercessions, who meet and greet at the church door, who oversee the music, who safeguard and provide a ministry to children, who so faithfully prepare our service leaflets, and those who ensure that all that is said is clearly audible. I think All Saints is also the only church in which I’ve served that has its own bar! As a venue for socialising and welcoming, and as a place where outdoor events can be hosted, it’s an asset many other chaplaincies would love to have. For all who contribute to the life of the church here in All Saints only thanks are due.
Since I took up my duties towards the end of August it`s been a joy to share in the life of the community here. The monthly Car Boot Sale, the English Library, the Spanish learners’ class held there on Saturdays, ESTA, the local choir led by our Director of Music, Rayco, the inter-group quizzes – these are some of the things, apart from church work, that have kept me busy since I arrived. Actually, my first days didn’t get off to a very good start: I was fined by the local police for a traffic infringement. But the natural beauty of the island and the warm welcome I received from the faithful and others, soon made me feel I was among friends.
We have a word in Welsh, which is said to be untranslatable. ‘Hiraeth’ refers to the tugging on the heart that follows a prolonged absence. It can be a longing for place or for people, and it involves a sort of yearning for what has been. I`m sure, after a few months I will experience ‘hiraeth’ for Tenerife and for All Saints. But life’s rich experiences don’t allow for us to be too reflective or nostalgic. Instead, those words from from the Psalms encourage us to be thankful for every blessing shared, and to be joyful in the here and now: “This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.” May God bless you all and keep you strong in the Faith. To quote yet another recent Prime Minister as he ended his time in office, “Hasta luego……”
Revd Hywel Davies
Locum priest August-October
(1) “Change and decay in all around I see”;: Challenges facing the Church in the New Millennium
(anglicannews.org)
26 October 2022
With all the challenges going on around the globe I´m reminded of the story of the making of stone soup.
Some travellers came to a village, carrying nothing more than an empty cooking pot. Upon their arrival, the villagers were unwilling to share any of their food stores with the hungry travellers. The travellers went to a stream and filled the pot with water, dropped a large stone in it, and placed it over a fire.
One of the villagers became curious and asked what they were doing. The travellers answered that they were making “stone soup”, tasting wonderful, although it still needed a little bit of garnish to improve the flavour, which they were missing. One villager did not mind parting with a few carrots to help them out, so they were added to the soup.
Another villager walked by, enquiring about the pot, and the travellers again mentioned their stone soup, which hadn´t yet reached its full potential. The villager handed them a little bit of seasoning to help them out.
More and more villagers walked by each adding another ingredient. Finally, a delicious and nourishing pot of soup was enjoyed by all.
In situations requiring endurance what a difference it makes to have those around offering words of support, confidence and hope and not just offering words but showing the same by their actions.
This past Sunday was Bible Sunday and the Bible isn´t just a book to read and leave on our shelves. The things written within it give us strength to endure, encourage us to keep going and offer promises we can hold onto in the tough times. In Mark´s Gospel we are encouraged to love God and love our neighbours as ourselves. In our Community of All Saints we do this amongst other things, by praying for and welcoming our Ukranian brothers and sisters and by feeding the hungry and supporting those in need through our partnership with Cruz Roja.
Many people are going through difficult situations, some very visible but others hidden and managed on their own. By encouraging those we meet each day we can help them. Encouragement is something we can all do for others – maybe a phone call, time to chat, offering practical help or simply a smile.
This week let´s be encouragers and enablers, being part of the making of “Stone Soup” in our communities.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
19 October 2022
I was out shopping the a few days ago and saw that notices had started to appear indicating that several shops were offering to reserve presents for The Christmas Season. I thought this is a bit early – there’s still about 10 weeks to go.
Then looking at the Lectionary (a Church issued guide to readings for the year) I noticed that the Psalm listed for this Wednesday, in Mid October, is Number 98. Now Psalm 98 is one of my favourites as it is uplifting and full of Joy. So maybe the Church too is ‘jumping on the band wagon’ 10 weeks early.
Psalm 98 is long loved by the church; In fact this Psalm is one of those appointed for Christmas Day in all 3 of the lectionary cycles – in fact, in my opinion, it is also a perfect Psalm for the Easter Season as it looks back at the salvation won by Christ’s climatic victory over the enemies who ruin God’s good world, and looks ahead to the end of the war when just peace will descend on the whole world.
With all that is happening in the world today, wars, hunger, famine, climate change, etc., how are we to have joy? When we consider our own personal struggles in life, how can we find joy and hope? I find that turning to the Psalmists of ancient time can often offer an insight.
The psalms are always a great place to turn to find strength and words of hope during difficult times. Many of the psalms were written during personal distresses experienced by God’s people. Some of the psalms were written after the nation of Judah was invaded, captured, and carried away into captivity at the hands of foreigners. The psalms became God’s book of hope to his people.
The Great Christmas Carol “Joy to the World” was published in 1719 and is Isaac Watts’ Christian Interpretation of Psalm 98. It is alleged that it is the most sung carol worldwide, and this reflects verse 4 of the Psalm “Make a joyful noise, sing praises, break forth into joyful song”. I can only hope that if all peoples break out into joyful Song it will help to bring peace to the World.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
13th October
This week we have celebrated yet another bank holiday in Tenerife – one of the 14 that we have each year. We have 10 National Bank Holidays and then another 2 Regional days and then a further 2 Local Municipal days. On 12th we celebrated, along with the whole of Spain, Dia de la Hispanidad. This National Day of Spain commemorates the discovery of the Americas by Christopher Columbus on October 12th 1492.
Whilst for many this was a day off work it somehow didn’t seem to have the same element of “Fiesta” which the local and regional days have.
I spent this afternoon in Adeje and the whole town is decked out in flags and bunting. The stage is set for the dancers, musicians and the local folklore groups. The sides of the street are filled with food stalls and the people are enjoying each other’s company. Santa Ursula´s Church is central to the fiesta, with services, processions and sharing farm produce “harvest festival” style.
On Sunday following the church service the Romería will take place – Oxen drawn carts decorated with Canarian colours of white, yellow and blue travel through the town and each shares food and drink with those standing on the side watching the procession. It´s accompanied by music, dancing and smiles of inclusion and welcome. The whole family participates in the celebration.
Welcome, participation, joy and energy are all part of fiestas.
This reminds me of a story in chapter 15 of Luke´s Gospel known as The Prodigal Son. The story begins with a young man asking for his inheritance and then having been given it by his father he leaves to party with his friends. When he has spent everything he falls on hard times and finds himself in a pigsty – feeding the pigs. He realises that his father´s hired servants have more than he does and so he turns and heads for home. While he is still a long way off his father sees him and runs towards him with arms outstretched to welcome him home. He starts to tell his father he is sorry about squandering his money but the father calls for a celebration and kills the fatted calf, celebrating that his son who was lost is found. That is all that is important. He was welcomed home.
In this story there are 3 places – the pigsty, the palace and the road in between. We might each find ourselves in one or other of these at different times. As I reflect on each I think of the pigsty…a place of darkness, captivity, muck and mess: The palace…a place of feeling treated as royalty, feasting, free and without burdens: The road in between…like this young man there are times when I´ve felt rebellious, repentant or just rambled aimlessly.
What I do know is that there is always a welcome from a God who, like the father in the story, looks out and meets each one with open arms. His love is for each one who acknowledges Him. This week may we each find that welcome, love and joy, knowing that wherever we are, pigsty, palace or on the road in between, we have a God who loves and welcomes us with outstretched arms.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
5th October
This week in All Saints we are celebrating Harvest. Several schools join with us in collecting non-perishable foods for Cruz Roja to distribute to local families in need.
So why do we celebrate harvest? A simple answer is that it’s an opportunity to thank God for all He has blessed us with. The Psalm for Harvest Festival Sunday is Psalm 100 and it’s both a summons to praise and a reason to praise. Make a joyful noise: Worship: Come into God’s presence…. The noise is one of triumph, confidence and joy.
Before I lived in Tenerife I lived in the Kent countryside – with many orchards, even grapevines and it wasn’t unusual to hear the combine harvesters extremely late into the night – even into the early hours of the morning, with their bright lights shining across the fields of wheat and barley at harvest time. The triumph and joy of the workers when the fields were harvested and the grains were stored before the rains came was evident…along with the exhaustion of their demanding work.
On reading Psalm 100 I was struck by 2 elements that are part of any harvester’s way of life – Complete dependence and complete trust.
One of the laws of harvesting is that you will get what you plant – if you plant fruit bushes you will not get a harvest of vine ripened tomatoes. So the seeds, the weather and the people involved all play a part in that dependence and trust.
Another law of the harvest is that you reap more than you sow – you sow one seed of corn and from that you will grow a cornstalk, provided the seed is good, cultivated and watered. But you don’t plant today and reap tomorrow…there’s a season of planting and a season for growing and a season for harvesting.
Many times in the Kent orchards there was fruit left rotting, having fallen to the ground due to a shortage of pickers and the unpicked cabbages shrivelled due to the excessive heat – There’s a certain unmistakable smell from rotting cabbages and cauliflowers! But this excess is in sharp contrast this week to the distressing stories from Somalia where, along with civil war there is famine. Innocent children are without medical aid. Families are leaving their children on the roadside, unable to bury them following their death. We can’t but be touched when we look into the eyes of a child crying because of the death of his sibling due to malnutrition. The media have told such poignant stories, of life in an area without a harvest. Families who are leaving in search for land to grow crops, to feed themselves and their cattle are dependent on agencies from the worldwide community to meet their basic needs of food and water.
The way our food is grown presents significant future challenges and opportunities, both to reduce the greenhouse gas emissions and the potential to store carbon within the soil. We are mindful that meeting these challenges will require changes that we all have to make, in the food that we eat and in the way we pay for public goods that land use provides. As we look to the future let us pray this week that those in leadership will help us all to discern and address the twin challenges of climate change and ecological ill health that is impacting our world.
As we open our cupboards, shop in our supermarkets and turn on our taps let us be grateful for the food that is harvested for us to enjoy and be mindful of those whose harvest has failed and the aid agencies coming alongside them.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
28th September
Our regular readers will have noticed that regrettably there was no weekly message last week. This was after the sad news of the death of the Governor of the Church of England Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II. At that time all our efforts were directed into preparing and arranging a suitable memorial service in All Saints Church.
The memorial service was held on Wednesday 21st. and was attended by the British Vice Consul in Tenerife – who read the lesson. A delegation from the Town Council here in Puerto de la Cruz, also leaders of other organisations and charitable institutions. In addition members of other Churches in the area, including Spanish, German, Scandinavian, and also persons of other faiths and none. All of whom wanted to pay their respects and give thanks for the 70 year reign of Queen Elizabeth II.
As part of this service it was decided to ask all participants to say The Lord’s Prayer in their own language. I believe the languages that were heard included; English, Spanish, German, Welsh, Ukrainian and I am sure others that I did not hear or were not reported. The sound that I could hear, however, reminded me of the passages in the Bible where one can read of people ‘speaking in tongues’:
Isaiah Ch 28 v 11 For by people of strange lips and with a foreign tongue the LORD will speak to this people.
Acts Ch2 v 4 And they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and began to speak in other tongues as the Spirit gave them utterance. Now there were dwelling in Jerusalem Jews, devout men from every nation under heaven. And at this sound the multitude came together, and they were bewildered, because each one was hearing them speak in his own language.
1 Corinthians Ch 14 – which I leave for you to read for yourselves and contemplate.
I definitely heard the speaking of many tongues, in that prayer, all extolling God, and felt a great uplifting at that time.
I can only hope that the Memorial Service remains in the minds of those attending for many years.
Also, I pray that the Soul of our late Queen Elizabeth will Rest in Peace & Rise in Glory.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
14th September
I’m so sad today.
For the first time, I woke up, in the morning, a few days ago and The Queen was no longer with us.
To be honest, I still can’t quite believe it. She leaves behind an incredible legacy of service and duty, working right up to the end.
What an amazing example she set.
Thank you and Rest In Peace Ma’am.
In response to the sad news we have endeavoured to keep All Saints Church open for a few hours every day for people to visit and pray or to sign or book of condolence. I was heartened however whilst ‘Church Sitting’ during this time by the number of non British people who came and passed on their condolences and thanks for a life, of duty and service, that was an example to leaders of all nations.
I offer some prayers that you may find useful at this sad time:-
Almighty God,
Our Queen is dead, Her long life is over – but You live forever!
Our Queen is dead, Her long reign is over – but You reign forever!
Our Queen is dead, Her loving service is over – but Your love lives forever! Amen.
Almighty God, whose Son, Jesus Christ, was crowned not with gold but with thorns, and whose blood was shed to give life to the world – crown us with Your love. That we may serve one another with humility and joy and Your Kingdom come with peace on earth, through the same Jesus Christ who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit ever One God, now and for evermore – Amen.
Merciful Father and Lord of all life, we praise you that we are made in your image and reflect your truth and light. We thank you for the life of our late Sovereign Lady Queen Elizabeth, for the love she received from you and showed among us. Above all, we rejoice at your gracious promise to all your servants, living and departed, that we shall rise again at the coming of Christ. And we ask that in due time we may share with your servant Elizabeth that clearer vision promised to us in the same Christ our Lord; who is alive and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, world without end. Amen
May our late Queen Rest in Peace – and Rise in Glory!
God Save the King.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
7th September
The market place was a focal point for ancient society. Much like today’s shopping Centres, people not only shopped in them, but also socialized there. That’s why they were so popular.
In Jesus’ day, every village in Palestine had a marketplace, which was usually located in an open area or where streets crossed, or near the Temple. The market had many stalls or booths, where foods or spices could be measured and sold. A visitor would find things like wheat or barley, bread, fish, olives, and figs.
The market was filled with sights and sounds and smells. Sellers would often shout at buyers to try to get them to look at their food or other items. Animals like sheep, goats, or birds that were being sold also made lots of noise. The smell of animals, cooking food, and spices filled the air.
As Jesus’ story about the man who went to the market to hire workers for his vineyard shows (Matt 20.1-16), the market was also a place where people might meet to talk or just to spend some time. Others went there because they knew that landowners often came to the market looking for workers.
I was reminded of this last Saturday when All Saints held the first ‘Car Boot Sale’ of the season, normally held on the first Saturday of the month opening at 10:00 in the morning.
As I walked round the stalls, hearing the bartering for the goods on offer, and the smells wafting from the stalls selling food and drinks, and seeing all the people attending interacting (without the need for mobile telephones), buying, selling, eating and drinking. I was heartened to see the joy and pleasure in the faces of those there.
Then I entered the Church, what a contrast – PEACE – and just the gentle sound of background choral music. There I saw a few people taking a few moments away to offer a prayer to our Lord, and take a break from the hustle and bustle going on in the adjacent car park and gardens.
I remember the prayer offered by St. Teresa of Avila:-
May today there be peace within.
May you trust your highest power that you are exactly where you are meant to be.
May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.
May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.
May you be content knowing you are a child of God.
Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance.
It is there for each and every one of you.
Amen.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
31st August
Have locum, will travel.
One of the unexpected benefits of retirement since 2010, has been the opportunity to serve as locum chaplain in different parts of the Diocese in Europe. In effect, for me, that has meant Spain and PortugaI, and the Spanish ‘costas’ in particular. At the beginning of 2019 I began a period as locum chaplain in Majorca; but as my time there was drawing to a close, the anxiety associated with Covid-19 steadily became more pressing. Three years followed when, like many other people, I obediently stayed put at home. But the taste for travel and adventure – as well as a sense of fulfillment in exercising a pastoral and teaching ministry – remained strong. So, when the chance came to serve as locum chaplain here in Tenerife North, I jumped at it.
Not everybody understands this impulse. One clergy colleague said to me that he thought I was mad uprooting myself for months from a retired life of leisure. Others in my home parish expressed concern that I might be lonely or isolated. “Do you know anybody there?” they asked with concern. “Why?” was someone else`s question. “It can’t be a career move, surely: not at your age!” At least that made me smile.
The truth is that it’s good to be reminded of the diversity of experience that ministry offers. In one sense, of course, peoples’ hopes and fears, their needs and expectations, are the same wherever they are. But the ex-pat community, perhaps, offers an even wider range of human experience and endeavour. Not everybody, after all, has the ingenuity and resilience it takes to begin a new life overseas, to put down new roots, to anticipate new horizons. Ex-pats are a special breed, and I look forward to learning more and more about them.
I should also say that I take to heart what the author of the Letter to the Hebrews says about the character of the Christian community. ‘Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers’, he writes (Hebrews 13:2). Its said that the Queen is the only person who, when she travels abroad, is not required to have a UK passport. All the rest of us, especially since Brexit and Covid, are faced with an array of regulations and restrictions as we travel overseas. When I flew from Bristol to Tenerife in August 2022, not only did I have my Covid status registered on my smart phone, but I had paper copies too – just in case. Similarly, like most travellers, I make sure I have a photograph of my passport details and boarding pass – just in case.
By contrast when Christian people move from one community of believers to another, as St. Paul did on his missionary journeys – and many others since – we are never total strangers. So many shared assumptions and expectations serve as a passport to a common life in Christ. ‘Let nobody be a stranger here’ is a good mission statement for any church.
Another piece of Scripture that came to mind as I settled into chaplaincy responsibilities was Paul`s First Letter to the Corinthians. In his Letter, Paul is at pains to stress how Christian communities are at their best when members pull together. ‘For we are God`s servants, working together’, he writes (1. Cor. 3:9). It`s often said that society at large has become increasingly atomised in recent years – that individualism has become the default position for most of us. That may be so elsewhere; but it can never be the order of the day in the Church. As members of the Body of Christ, by baptism, we all have a role to play as labourers in the vineyard of the Lord.
It is heartening to see such values being put into effect here in Puerto de la Cruz. The chaplaincy is very fortunate to have such a willing body of workers, all of whom give so generously of their time and talent for the common good. I look forward to spending the next 10 weeks or so with you, doing what I can as locum chaplain to share the Good News of God’s Kingdom. May we minister to each other, and so become channels of his grace.
Revd Hywel Davies
Locum Chaplain
23rd August
In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God … And the Word became flesh and lived among us.
As we prepare to return to the UK, I read that for the first time ever English Literature has slipped out of the ‘top ten’ of favourite subjects studied at A Level. It has got me thinking about words, how they are used, not least in church.
When I was at school, the first team had an annual fixture against John Motson’s Commentators XI. It was a personal highlight and one year I scored an absolute screamer. As the saying goes, the older a man gets, the faster he ran in his youth! Back in the Eighties, Motty was the BBC’s number one man with a mike – in those days it was always a man – but his pre-eminent status didn’t preclude the occasional endearing gaffe. ‘For those of you watching in black and white, Spurs are in the all-yellow strip’. That was one of Motty’s.
Each year after the game, which Motty and his motley crew of co-commentators and ex-pros always won, he would lead an assembly. Invariably, the message was a self-deprecating one … about the perils of working with words. A broadcaster puts his job on the line every time he opens his mouth or types out text. And, of course, it is no less true of each and every one of us that the words we choose to use – in casual conversation and serious debate – are powerful. They can bring hope or indefinite damage.
A career in sports commentary would have been fun; instead, I became a lawyer. Lawyers also work with words. They are forever trying to find words that fit … words that explain precisely what is allowed, and what isn’t. In legal documents, words are of necessity trapped in tortious sub-clauses. They are given a lengthy sentence.
Now as a priest, precision remains important to me. But I hope the language I employ is more elegant. And doesn’t constrain. I hope above all that the church sets words as free as the words themselves can set us free. But that only happens when words are treated with reverence … and that, I fear, happens all too rarely.
As Mark Oakley and Malcolm Guite amongst others have noted, this is not an easy time for words. Fake news and propaganda are just the tip of the iceberg. Consumerism and marketing make language seductive rather than truthful, as they lure us towards our wallets. Technology, for all its brilliance, now gives us too many words; we trip over them as they come at us from every direction, and the danger is that our care for words decreases as the words themselves proliferate. Like the sixth former who bumped into someone she had known at a previous school. He had asked her out; she couldn’t go, but was baffled by the subsequent frostiness of his friends. Puzzled, she checked her phone, and found to her horror that the message that she had thought explained that she had no free evenings until the end of term had fallen victim to the perils of predictive text: she had actually said that she wasn’t free … until the end of time!
Oakley wishes politicians would take more care with words, identifying ‘political leaders , who, in many parts of the world, now campaign in graffiti and govern in tweets. With their continual and careless talk of ‘individuals’ rather than ‘people’, of ‘losers’, ‘swarms’ and ‘sad’ failures, it all makes for a world where we see ourselves as competitors rather than communities. It leads to a world where, as has been observed, if you are not at the table you are probably on the menu’.
That’s certainly how my daughter felt after one bruising day at school not long ago. She came home complaining of not being quick enough at comebacks and put-downs. As I listened, I remembered the one and only time I had got the better of the class bully. ‘Hey, Harbridge,’ he had said. ‘Look out the window. There’s a naked man.’ Without even glancing up from my book, I calmly replied ‘Well, trust you to see him first’. Bully never bothered me again.
But was mine an enlightened response? I hardly think so. Tit for tat never is.
Words become flesh, so let’s treat them with reverence. As Oakley notes in his refreshing ‘The Splash of Words’, all life – even language – is sacramental. In church, ‘the placing of our spaces, the metaphors, rhythms, cadences and chosen vocabulary is as vital as the placing of bread and wine on the table and the pouring of water into the font’. Amen to that.
Revd Philip Harbridge
Senior School Chaplain, Millfield
Priest Vicar of Wells Cathedral
All Saints Locum, July-August 2022
8th August
Last week as I was writing the intercessions for our service on Sunday I was reminded of a reflection by Mother Teresa: “I used to pray that God would feed the hungry, or do this or that, but now I pray that He will guide me to do whatever I am supposed to do, what I can do. I used to pray for answers, but now I´m praying for strength. I used to believe that prayer changes things but now I know that prayer changes us and we change things.”
Looking at or listening to the News we are faced with so many situations – war, flooding, drought, hunger, oppression, terrorism, medical ethics, shootings, knife crime, debt and the cost of living to name but a few – which are impacting so many across our world. It could be overwhelming reading of the issues that are faced by so many. Equally it could be that we hear or read and then move on to the next story because it doesn´t affect us. When the media outlets move on so does our concern. There is always news and it´s almost always outside of ourselves. We have the opportunity to sleep without the fear of bomb or bullet. We can worship in church without the threat of reprisals towards ourselves and our families. We are not living on an island that is now feet under water and uninhabitable. We have a choice of places to shop, with food on the shelves. We might be immigrants here in Tenerife but we are not refugees.
Some things we cannot change but there are other things that through our choices can make an impact for others in our global village. Climate change has brought sharply into focus our responsibility to strive to safeguard the integrity of creation, that the life of the earth will be sustained and renewed for generations to come. So with Mother Teresa´s emphasis on our being the agents for change what could we personally do about it? Maybe less meat, maybe off setting our carbon emissions when we fly, maybe researching ways to do something and understanding how our small change can impact the bigger picture. Small changes to our home, transport, energy provider and diet can contribute in a big way to the fight against climate change. As 1 Peter 4:7-8 says, “Be intentional, purposeful and self-controlled so that you can be given to prayer. Above all constantly echo God´s intense love for one another…” Let´s pray that using our voice and using our choice we will each have an impact on our world. How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time!
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
2nd August
Traditionalists in a Church…
I was reading about Pope Francis’s recent trip to Canada and came across a remark that he made about tradition….
which set me thinking about tradition in our lives and in the Church.
Family traditions in general don’t go back more than 3 generations – that is as far as the current generation can recall. Think of what is known as the “Traditional Christmas” maybe taken from the book by Charles Dickens. We have evolved from that time with motor vehicles replacing coach and horses, and electric lights replacing candles the internet replacing post-horses etc..
Coming up to date football was traditionally considered a “Mans” Game. This has evolved to the extent that the wonderful English Ladies have now won the European Cup.
In the Church many of our readers will have been brought up using the Book of Common Prayer of 1662 which had evolved from a book of the same name dated in the mid 1500’s and which is still approved for current use. However it too has evolved to become currently the 2 volume set of ‘Services and Prayers for the Church of England’. This is the source on which our service booklets are based.
So ‘Traditions’ do evolve with time. Within the church whilst all accept the teachings of Jesus there are many different ways of expressing worship, Evangelical, Low Church, High Church etc. all different traditions. Whilst here in All Saints we are looking for a new incumbent Chaplain, our succession of locum Priests give us the opportunity to hear and savour some views from different “Traditions” to that to which our congregation are accustomed. This can only help us understand and broaden our faith.
Now what was Pope Francis’s remark that brought about my train of thought this week?
“Many people who call themselves traditionalists, they are not, they just go backwards. That is a sin.
Tradition is the living faith of the dead; indeed their attitude is the dead faith of the living. It is important to understand the role of tradition – a musician used to say the tradition is the guarantee of the future. It is not a piece that belongs in a museum.”
Let us ensure that ours is a living Faith not a dead Tradition.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
27th July
As I write this the wildfires continue to burn on the slopes of Teide, impacting 5 regions of our island. As we have been faced with the Calima heat and temperatures well in the 30s I have followed with awe the stories of the many volunteer firefighters from our own and other neighbouring islands, dressed in heavy protective clothing and working in the skies and on the ground alongside the raging fires. Trusting and listening to each other they are working together to protect the homes of the 600 plus who were evacuated and to stabilise, control and extinguish 27km perimeter rings of fire.
I am also reminded that today the bishops from around the Anglican Communion gather for the 15th Lambeth Conference in Canterbury. The theme is God’s Church for God’s World – walking, listening and witnessing together. The fruit of their prayer, bible study, worship, fellowship and listening together will shape the life of the Anglican Communion for the next decade. Their biblical focus is the Book of 1 Peter. 1 Peter reflects the challenges that Peter´s communities were facing; belonging, alienation, persecution, slavery and exile. Each time we pray the Our Father we pray: “Your Kingdom come. Your will be done”. 1 Peter raises an inspiring vision of God´s Kingdom. Have a read and you will see Peter encouraging his listeners to witness in their lives to Christ´s hope and holiness.
One theme of the conference is Our Environment and Sustainable Development. Coming from many different corners of the globe those present will be able to speak to varying global crises, their impact on the most vulnerable and the Gospel call to serve the world in need. Listening will be imperative.
Deep listening is an act of surrender. We risk being changed by what we hear. As we listen to the stories from our own and other parts of the world impacted by global warming and climate change we can ask ourselves what is at stake for the other person? Telling of our wildfires we know the impact of them on our island. The primary goal of listening is to deepen our own understanding. The hope is that in listening well we are changed by what we hear and new horizons will be opened up for each listener.
Our Diocese in Europe encourages each of our chaplaincies to become places where we strive to safeguard the integrity of creation and sustain and renew the life of the earth. We have 5 Ts to remind us: Transform, Treasure, Tend, Teach and Tell. As we look into the sky or watch TV and social media we see the flames, the smoke and the devastation caused by the fires. We acknowledge the strength of those working to extinguish them and pray with gratitude for their work and their selfless dedication. Journeying together we pray that we will respond to our 21st century world, changed by science and technology and impacted by the crises of injustice, war and poverty.
In the life of All Saints we pray this week: “May Your Kingdom come. Your Will be done. May we take seriously our responsibility to care for creation and sustain our earth. We pray for safety for all working on our behalf to protect our island home. Amen”.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
20th July
This week we welcomed the Revd Philip Harbridge, the Senior Chaplain of Millfield School, accompanied by his wife and daughters, to our congregation. Father Philip will be our Locum Priest for the next 6 weeks.
As we hear reports of heat waves and wild fires in the Iberian Peninsula and Northern Europe, here in Tenerife, whilst in the East and South of the Island hot and humid conditions have been experienced, in the Orotava Valley we are thankful for our own “micro climate”. The Sea breeze generated by the Northeast trade winds, allied with the high ground around our volcano “El Tiede”, can create an adiabatic process which often, in the heat of the day, fills the valley with a layer of cloud. This shelters us from the worst of the midday sun. The local term for this uniform layer of cloud is “La panza de burro” (The Donkey’s Belly). Its interesting to note that similar effects can on occasion be found the Valleys of Wales where the local term “bol buwch” (Cow’s Belly) is used. One wonders if there is a link going back in time!
We must be thankful for these natural effects that make our life here more pleasant.
Whilst being thankful for the shade offered by these clouds we are reminded of the words from St Mathew 24 verse 30:
“Then shall appear the sign of the Son of man in heaven: and then shall all the tribes of the earth mourn, and they shall see the Son of Man coming on the clouds of heaven with great power and glory“.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
12th July
Last week I found myself counting with a three-year-old who is learning to count in Spanish – he was enthusiastically counting the goals he had scored against me at table football! Subsequently I’ve been aware of friends counting their steps, a child excitedly counting out her piggy bank to see how much money she has for her holiday and an advert telling me that I don´t need to count calories or points to lose weight.
Counting is part of life and after our service on Sunday at All Saints I was aware of counting blessings too. There was a sense of “wow” as we stepped into the church to be met by a stunning array of colour from orchids and other flowers and plants which decorated every part of the church. What a blessing of generosity alongside gratitude for my sight and sense of smell.
Celebrating Sea Sunday we counted the blessings of service and protection by the many who serve around our shores and further afield on the sea.
After we had received communion Revd Richard offered each one the opportunity of anointing with oil. This was both powerful and profound. The words prayed over us were for each one specifically. The prayer I received reminded me that I matter to God. He values me.
Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the man who gave his daughter his old jeep as a present on her graduation. He told her that before she took possession of it she needed to take it to the used car garage to see how much she´d be offered if she sold it immediately. She returned and told him it was worth about one thousand pounds because it was pretty worn out. Next he told her to take it to the pawn shop and ask the same question. They offered her a hundred pounds. Finally he sent her to the Jeep Club where she was greeted enthusiastically with, “I will offer you a hundred thousand pounds because it´s an iconic jeep and sought by many collectors.” He told his daughter to remember the lesson that the right place values you the right way and that if you´re not valued you’re just in the wrong place. Those who know your value appreciate you.
Each of us counts. We matter – to God, to others and hopefully to ourselves. I read this week that stillness isn’t about focussing on nothingness but about creating a clearing and opening up an emotionally clutter free space and allowing ourselves to feel and think and dream and question. Like our gifts and talents, meaning is unique to each of us. What counts to us varies but we always count to and can count on God. As the final line in Matthew´s Gospel reminds us: Jesus came to them and said…Know that I am with you always…and in another translation: Never forget that I am with you every day. Counting on God to be alongside us this week may we reflect on and count our blessings and enable others to know of their value and sense of worth, praying for our world desperately in need of the unity, peace and healing which we shared around the table of the Eucharist.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
6th July
In the past few days we have been able to celebrate 3 Baptisms at All Saints – a set of 1 month old Twins, and also, last Sunday, during our Holy Eucharist service, a 90 year old lady. Baptism marks the beginning of a journey with God. This journey continues for the rest of our lives. It’s the first step in response to God’s love.
It was a joyful celebration on Sunday with the children of the Sunday school making a display of the elements of Baptism and also they presented a handmade gift to the newly-baptised lady. A truly wonderful celebration of God’s blessing that we all receive.
Next Sunday we say goodbye, (or should it be ‘hasta luego’ ) to Father Richard, who has been our locum priest for the past 6 weeks. He and his wife Jill have brought great joy to our Chaplaincy and we all wish them well as they return to the United Kingdom. Their stay with us here in Tenerife has brought an air of freshness and joy to our services, and we feel blessed that they have been sent to us at a time when the Chaplaincy was in gloom after the death of Father Ron.
With these events I am minded of the words of the Psalmist:-
“Oh, sing to the Lord a new song! For He has done marvellous things; His right hand and His holy arm have gained Him the victory. The Lord has made known His salvation; His righteousness He has revealed in the sight of the nations. He has remembered His mercy and His faithfulness to the house of Israel; All the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God” (Psalm 98:1-3).
Peter Lockyer
Reader
28th June
I am fortunate to live overlooking the coast, on the Southwest of Tenerife, which means that at this time of year the sun sets directly in front of me into the sea. As Spring turns to Summer the sunsets become more spectacular. The colours of yellow, orange and pink light up the vista and the sun´s rays spread out across the sky. Each sunset is unique and my favourite place to watch the dwindling light and changing sky is from my hammock. I´ve noticed that cloudy skies earlier on can sometimes be the precursor to a stunning sunset.
As the sun sets here it begins to rise over our friends in the Western hemisphere…and as it sets there it returns to rise over us the following day. We wait in the dark for the light to break forth and there are days when the clouds hide it totally. Hammock reflection has made me wonder about the “clouds” that colour and cover my personal sky, that prevent the sunlight shining through?
Elisabeth Kubler-Ross writes: People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out but when the darkness sets in, their beauty is revealed only if there is light within.
There´s no perfect life, no perfect job, no perfect childhood, no perfect marriage and no perfect set of people who will always do what we expect them to do. What we do have is a perfect God who is able to lead us through this imperfect life with unfailing strength, incomparable wisdom and infinite love. Talking about what gets in the way can be a way of enabling us to live and love with our whole hearts.
Now I´m pretty sure that we all know what healthy eating constitutes and we have access to a wealth of information around the topic so why is it that some of us struggle to eat healthily? Perhaps it´s because we don´t talk about the things that get in the way of doing what we know is best for us, our families and our communities.
Naming and having honest conversations about our “clouds” can enable us to develop resilience, courage, compassion and connection. We live in a world where expectations can tell us that being imperfect means being inadequate. Secrecy, silence and judgement can prevent us from developing resilience. We are encouraged in scripture to love each other as we love ourselves. Some of us are not so good at loving ourselves, naming our “clouds” and talking about them, owning and telling our story. Authenticity is the daily practice of letting go of who we think we are supposed to be and embracing who we are. Choosing authenticity means cultivating the courage to be imperfect, to set boundaries and to allow ourselves to be vulnerable. It encourages us to exercise the compassion that comes from knowing that we are all made of strength and struggle and nurturing the connection and sense of belonging that can only happen when we believe that we are enough in the eyes of the God who loves us unconditionally.
Belonging to a community of faith, as we do at All Saints, enables us to connect and share ourselves and our stories. As we look at the sun´s rising and setting we are reminded of the faithfulness of God who is above, beneath and beside us. We experience a Creator God who lit the world and breathed life into each one of us. We are enabled to know more of the Son who saved the world and stretches out His hand to each one of us and we experience the Spirit of God who encompasses each one of us in our world. This coming week may we see the sunset as an opportunity to reset knowing that the sunrise brings the promise of a new dawn. Our horizons may change but the sun, the Son does not.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship leader
21st June
This week sees the summer solstice which is the first day of astronomical summer and the longest day of the year for people in the Northern Hemisphere. In ancient times, solstices and equinoxes were important in helping people to maintain calendars and grow crops. The solstice itself has remained a special moment of the annual cycle of the year since Neolithic times and over the centuries has been marked by festivals and celebrations.
In Anglesey, (The Island from where my ancestors come) lie prehistoric sites such as at Bryn Celli Ddu. This open burial chamber dated to around 2000BC, is so perfectly aligned that for only 20 minutes each year, a beam of sunlight aligns exactly with the opening to the chamber.
With the coming of Christianity, people were encouraged to give up their old traditions, by their incorporation into new Christian practices. For example, the summer solstice became known as the feast of St. John, the Baptist.
Here in the North of Tenerife every year on the “octava” (eighth day) of Corpus Christi – i.e. the following Thursday after the date of the religious feast – the northern Tenerife town of La Orotava celebrates its Día de las Alfombras (Carpet Day), when, since 1846, carpets of sand and flowers have been made in the streets as a traditional part of the celebrations.
La Orotava families, many still with the same surnames since the 15th Century conquest of Tenerife, start making the flower carpets from the early hours of “carpet day.” The central sand carpet – created entirely using sand and soil from Teide National Park – created each year in the square in front of the town hall. (It made the Guinness World Record for Largest Sand Painting; the 859.42 square meter “alfombra” or carpet of sand created in June 2007.)
In the early evening the procession walks all over these ephemeral carpets and destroys them, so the “window of opportunity” to see them is very short. Don’t miss them, because as works of art, they are breath-taking.
Peter Lockyer
Reader
15th June
As a child I remember being read the book, “Pollyanna” about a girl who, following her father´s death, is sent to live with her aunt who undertakes the responsibility out of a sense of duty rather than pleasure. Pollyanna affects everyone who meets her with her exuberance and positivity and she spreads joy and love wherever she goes. Nothing deters her excessive cheerfulness and optimism.
This week in the UK is National Loneliness Awareness week with the emphasis being on the Power of One. The campaign encourages each to explore the difference that one person can make to someone experiencing feelings of loneliness. During the pandemic we heard many reports of those who felt lonely due to the isolation imposed by the various governments around the world. In this post pandemic time many have made significant lifestyle changes in the light of their experiences during lockdown. Others however do not have the option, dare I say luxury, to make changes. The characteristics of Pollyanna are a challenge for many in our world. Yet as individuals the power of our one can make a difference to many living in loneliness.
If you are reading this that means you have the access to either a computer, laptop, tablet or smart phone. You have electricity and connection to the internet. You are more fortunate than over a billion people across the world who are unable to read.
Several times recently I´ve caught myself bemoaning a situation. My car wing mirror needs replacing…but I have a car. The water filter has broken…but I have access to clean water on tap. The power is off…but I have access to electricity and had been informed it would be switched off briefly. The price of my shopping has increased. Within a week I noticed the Pineapple juice jumped from 69c to 1.15 – yet I have a choice in our supermarkets and the ability to buy without needing to make a choice between food or bills. Starvation is the daily situation for millions. The lens through which I choose to see my world can be one of gratitude as I recognise the riches that I have in comparison with so many.
The Passion translation of St Paul´s letter to the Philippians 4:4 reads “Be cheerful with joyous celebration in every season of life. Let your joy overflow!” Paul continues in this letter to encourage his listeners to be saturated in prayer throughout the day and to tell God every detail of their life.
This week let us pray in gratitude for the riches that we enjoy and pray for the ability to reflect joy. Facebook reminded me recently that; “Today you could be standing next to someone who is trying their best not to fall apart. So whatever you do today do it with kindness in your heart.” In this way the power of one can become the power of many to influence and affect change within family and community.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
8th June
After four days of watching a weekend of pageant, pomp, celebration and thanks, the one word that sticks in my mind is DUTY. Some seventy years ago I was a young boy who joined a wolf cub pack, there we had to make a promise to do our duty to God and the Queen, to keep the laws of the wolf cub pack and to do a good turn to someone every day. I have tried to achieve this every day since then, despite having got a little bit too old to be a member of the cub pack or even the boy scouts!
Watching the trooping of the colour, I was conscious that all those on parade had also taken an oath to do their duty to The Queen and country. All serving members of the armed forces also respect and have a duty to honour the regimental colour which, after being blessed, was then presented to the regiment by Her Majesty.
At the Service of thanksgiving, in St Paul’s Cathedral, the Archbishop of Canterbury also was doing his duty, after being tested positive for COVID, by self isolating. The Archbishop of York doing his duty, presiding over the service and giving a very heart-warming address of thanks for Her Majesty’s seventy year reign, recognising that she has always done her duty, to God and the country, as promised in Her coronation vows,, and also pointing out that Christ had also done his duty, as required by God the Father, by dying for Man’s sins.
Here at All Saints, we joined in the celebrations by having a ‘Street Party’ the congregation also doing our duty celebrating Her Majesty’s long reign.
I feel that the whole platinum jubilee can best be summarised by Paddington Bear’s closing remark at the ‘tea party’
“Happy Jubilee Ma’am, and thank you – for everything”.
Peter Lockyer
Reader – All Saints Puerto de la Cruz
1st June
I wonder how many different flags you´ve been aware of this week?
With our celebrations locally for Dia de Canarias (30th May) the food, culture, music and sports have for the most part taken place under and around the Canarian flag. This flag is formed of 3 identical vertical stripes of the following colours, starting on the pole, white, blue and yellow.
Many over the past months have placed Ukrainian flags in their windows as a symbol of solidarity with the Ukrainian community. The two bands of azure and golden yellow represent grain under a blue sky. How poignant that the exportation of grain to Russia is contributing to an impending global food crisis.
With the celebrations for Queen Elizabeth´s Platinum Jubilee the Union Jack and associated bunting is seen to be flying in many places up and down the UK and across the Commonwealth, and indeed in All Saints in preparation for our own celebration on Saturday.
A single piece of fabric can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. Depending on where they fly flags can represent freedom or control, danger or safety. Originally flags were used mainly in warfare and to some extent they have remained symbols of leadership – as a way of identifying friend or foe. Local flags help to foster a sense of identity and create a symbol which members of a community relate to. The Canarian colours of white, blue and yellow have been festooned around many parts of the island this weekend. Children and adults alike have proudly celebrated the day to mark the anniversary of the first session of the parliament of the Canary Islands held on 30th May 1983.
Flags are used to share the past, present and future vision of a community. Whether it be a simple Church Parade of uniformed organisations or the impressive Trooping of the Colour this ceremony reflects how the flag is held in high esteem as part of the history, the sacrifices made by the people and for the qualities for which the community and its people stand.
Words that come to mind when reflecting on the flag and its symbolism are service, duty, looking forward with faith and hope, solid, enduring, courage and strength…not because of the flag itself necessarily but because of the people who it represents and who serve under it.
There was a worship song some years ago that started: The Lord is mine and I am His. His banner over me is love. It contained several scriptural truths: He brought me to His banqueting table. He lifted me up into heavenly places. He is the vine and we are the branches. Jesus is the rock of my salvation. There´s one way to peace through the power of the cross. Each verse concluded with the words; His banner over me is love.
This coming week may we each know the hand of God´s love on our lives. May we reflect that same love within our families and communities. As a church family we pray with gratitude for all who serve their country and community – remembering all standing for truth and justice in places of war and remembering particularly the 70 years of service given by Queen Elizabeth. I conclude with her words as the Supreme Governor of the Church of England:
We are all visitors to this time. We are all visitors to this place. We are just passing through. Our purpose here is to observe. Our purpose here is to learn. Our purpose here is to grow. Our purpose here is to love and then we return home.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
25th May
This week here in All Saints we celebrated a Service of Thanksgiving for Revd Ron. Amongst other things it was a time of remembering and sharing the memories.
Memory is the process of taking in information from the world around us, processing it, storing it and later recalling that information, sometimes many years later. Memories help shape the way we live and experience certain things that occur in our lives.
Remembering the past, living in the present and looking to the future are all important, however remembering the past can affect how we live in the present and the future. The good and the bad of our experiences will both determine the acts of our futures. Ultimately reflection can empower us to determine what´s important to us and one simple way to start reflecting is through memory keeping.
Facebook reminded me of a memory this morning from 7 years ago. Sifting through photos and videos on my phone, calendars and journals is a way to piece together not just a narrative – not just the story of what happened but, like historians we can decipher which significant moments mattered in our lives.
The concept of remembering recurs prominently in the bible, especially in the Old Testament. God remembers his covenant with his people whereupon God´s people are encouraged to remember Him. There are many times stones are placed as a marker or piled together to stand out in a place. Climbing various Welsh mountains in my youth there were frequent cairns contributed to by those who had completed the task and left the stone as a lasting memory.
The most enduring memorial in the bible is one that can´t endure: the loaf and the cup at the Last Supper – and Jesus´ words, “Do this in remembrance of me.” What lasts is the meaning. The body and blood are seen and shown and shared in the memorial of that meal in the upper room. It vanishes through being consumed but it endures in not just the memory but the behaviour, the actions of those who by eating and drinking together come to see how they now form themselves into one body.
This week perhaps we can take time to name and contemplate what has shaped us in the past. We will each have formative moments that have shaped our life. Memories are reflections of the heart we happen to gaze on once in a while. The choices we make reflect the memories we create. As Christians we try to become more like Christ. As we pursue this transformation let us consider the invitation God gives to each one of us to be led and guided to a deeper awareness of His love and care for each of us. Calling on God to remember his people or an individual is the essence of prayer. The repentant thief alongside Jesus on the cross called out: Jesus remember me when you come into your kingdom. We pray for all who have asked us to remember them in prayer this week.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
17th May
Yesterday I found a map and a torch in my car door and I realised that both reminded me of my journeying over the past few weeks. My map gets much less use now thanks to the Sat Nav but it is handy to show visitors where we are in relation to other parts of the island and to view the contours and communities in Tenerife. Both the Sat Nav and the Map have their place and I realise I am helped by visual descriptions – turn left at the red house on the corner or right at the petrol station beyond the bridge. Solely sticking to the signposts, road numbers and street names doesn’t give me the confidence that I will reach my destination. Trusting my Sat Nav totally means I rely on my phone battery not to let me down. The more I use it the less reliable it is. There´s a place for each at different times and in different places.
These last few weeks journeying has been from place to place in England but as well as the physical journey there has been a spiritual and healing journey at a retreat centre. My map has been my bible and the Sat Nav has been the opportunity to join with other Christians and with direction from team members. The journey has been about spending time with God who is both my destination and my origin. The familiar question asked by children as they are travelling, “Are we there yet?” was one I asked several times. Over time I realised that peace was not the absence of something but the presence of someone.
The torch I found in my car reminded me of the analogy I used when looking back and describing my time at Crowhurst. When a torch grows dim or stops working you don´t throw it away. You change or recharge the batteries. Some torches need AA: Attentive listening and Affection. Some need AAA: Attentive listening, Affection and Acceptance. Some use C: Courage and others require D: Direction. If after all these have been tried and there´s still a lack of light then there are those who simply sit alongside and share their light and The Light – Jesus, until the terminals are ready for the right batteries to be inserted and the torch can shine and shed its light once again, to illuminate other dark spaces and to light the way ahead. As Spurgeon said: To trust God in the light is nothing but to trust Him in the dark, that is faith.
We each have our own faith journey to take and we can’t walk anyone else’s. This week let’s pray that we will find the tools required for the journey that we are taking and know more of God who is with us, alongside and within us as we do so.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
4th May
Over the past months while out and about and passing children in their pushchairs or out for a meal at a restaurant something has struck me forcibly. Many children were sitting with a phone or tablet in their hand, and in fact one buggy had a clip with the phone mounted on it in front of the toddler. The children weren’t engaging with what or who was around them. Their heads were down and they were engrossed in whatever was on the screen in front of them. The thing that seemed sad was that in most cases the adult(s) with the child(ren) were also on their phones or speaking into the air, using airpods or similar. In a restaurant one family group of 2 children and 2 adults all sat looking at their screens and there wasn’t a word spoken between them from ordering their meal until it arrived – and then there were strong words exchanged between child and adult about putting the device on pause to eat the food while it was hot.
I contrast this with a family sitting across from me on a train recently. The children were excited about going to visit their grandparents. There was conversation between them and Mum had them looking for various objects out of the window to see who could gain the most points…can you look for…and they were given several things to look out for between this and the next station: a field with animals in? Can you count them? Are there more than 10? The list of things to find on their train hunt was interesting and kept them engaged and chatting together. Then out came a drink and a bag of fruit pieces with paper plates and the challenge to make something recognisable. There was a face, and a lighthouse and a pattern! The children were then given paper to write or draw something and then fold it over and pass it on – after it had done the rounds several times Mum then told them a story following those prompts. I´m sure I wasn´t the only one enjoying the adventures of the dog who had long floppy ears! When the time came to get off the train the children were eagerly looking out for Grandad who would be on the platform to help with the luggage and they rushed into his arms for a hug. Not one phone or screen between them for the duration of the journey and time for conversation, fun and listening well.
The contrast between this poverty of attention and the gift of being fully present was marked. I was reminded of a phrase I heard once: We are not machines that need to be fixed. We are humans who need connection.
Sometimes we accept this deficit of attention as part of life but we can feel a little less validated, a little less valued and a little less loved. Time and complete attention are precious gifts to give. One vicar in a parish many years ago had the gift of making you feel as if you were the only person he had to listen to and he was totally focussed on what you were saying when you were with him – no checking watch or phone for messages or rushing to fit you in to a full schedule. It might have been full but you were never made to feel anything other than you were the person to whom his complete attention was being given for the time you were with him.
Self-giving listening creates a safe place for vulnerability and trust. It allows pain and confusion to be articulated. This characteristic is one which God shares with each one of us. He is wholly present, utterly available and listening attentively. We have a God who suffers with – who meets us in our disappointments and joins us in our mourning for his world and people. In the Book of Job chapter 12 verse 10 we read: “In His hand is the life of every living thing and the breath of all mankind”. As we are conscious of our world and all its pain let us pray this week that we can allow the true nature of God to shape our pain and not let pain shape our image of God.
Exodus 3:7-9 tells us that God sees our misery, hears our cries, knows our sufferings, comes down to deliver and brings us into a new place. We know He suffered for us at Calvary and because of this he suffers with us today in our darkest hours. Desmond Tutu said: Hope is being able to see there is light despite the darkness.
We pray this week for our brothers and sisters in all parts of the world at war, for light in their darkness and hope in their uncertainty and we give thanks for all who offer aid and are present with and alongside them in the struggle.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
26th April
This past week I found myself noticing a scar which I have on my left hand and being reminded of how I received it – and the fact that because of my obstinate nature I carry it with me today. I´m not left with any pain or wound just the visible reminder of an experience of many years ago. We each carry scars, some more visible than others. But the thing about physical scars is that, while at one time they were wounds, they are now healed. They point us to a memory or an event but they are a healing of that same event.
On Sunday our Gospel reading was the story of the disciples together in a locked room following Jesus’ resurrection. Jesus came among them and offered them the gift of peace – “Peace be with you”. Thomas however wasn’t with them and despite their proclamations he announced that he wouldn’t believe Jesus was alive unless or until he could have proof – and that proof was to see the wounds that Jesus bore. A week later they were together again and Jesus appeared to them. He said to Thomas, “Look at the nail marks in my hands. Touch the sword wound in my side. Stop doubting and believe”. Thomas didn´t need to look or to touch. His doubts had gone. On hearing Thomas´ declaration of Jesus as his Lord and God Jesus responded: “Blessed are those who have not seen and yet believe” …that´s us! In all our wounds and scars of life Jesus offers us an eternal hope.
This midweek letter will be uploaded on Tuesday, the day before Revd Ron’s funeral when we will be coming together to share fond memories of Ron and give thanks to God for his life, but we don’t just have our memories of Ron we also have hope – the Christian Hope that death is not the final word – that although there is parting, there is also re-uniting; although there is death – there is also resurrection. At the Bible study which followed the midweek service the morning after hearing the news of Ron´s death I found myself staring at the chair where he usually sat and reflecting that Ron had left a large Ron shaped hole. It felt quite wound like.
Despite that, we know that Ron had a firm faith in the resurrection to eternal life. Ron preached on this very gospel to the Tenerife Virtual Church 2 years ago. He told us that the Early Church rather than kneeling were required to stand and look up, because Easter was such a glorious time. He likened it to the sense of Heaven and said, “When we get there as you go to kneel as you would naturally do before the throne of Christ, He will be lifting you up under the arms and looking you in the eye and saying Welcome brother / sister”.
He and those we know and love who have gone before us have experienced a total healing of all wounds and scars. As an Easter people we experience new life and hope and we pray today for Ron´s family and friends that, over time, rather than wounds scars will form and memories will be a source of comfort.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
19th April
What are your memories of Easter, I wonder? Hiding Easter Eggs for the children to find after church on Easter Sunday I was reminded that as a child in those days many patients brought their GP, my Dad, an Easter present – and knowing that he had 4 children we were inundated with chocolate eggs. They were lined up and as the oldest I got to choose first so my sister as the youngest inevitably got the smallest eggs. We experienced the same choosing but our memories are different and unique to each.
With Siri on my phone it was very easy to establish that Easter Sunday in 1980 was on 6th April. So it is likely that the chocolate had been eaten and the Easter holiday had been and gone by 25th April. Life was back to the normality of the ordinary. Except for many people their world would never be normal or ordinary again. Dan Air Boeing 727-46 G-BDAN, rather than landing at Tenerife North Airport, crashed into the high ground and forest in La Esperanza. This resulted in the death of all 146 on board, 8 crew members and 138 passengers. In All Saints we have a memorial rose garden and this coming Sunday 24th April after our 11:00 service we will be remembering all those who lost their lives and those who live with the impact of that memory.
Each family and friend will have their own jigsaw pieces of that disaster and its memory. The same could be said for the disciples and the women on Easter Sunday. They had pieces of a story and an experience – finding the tomb empty, running to tell the others, not believing the news, walking along the Emmaus Road and not initially recognising Jesus. Each had their own experience of the risen Jesus and the circumstances surrounding his resurrection and their part within it. They had been through the horror of Good Friday and the grief, loss and disappointments of Holy Saturday. Their Messiah had died and their hope had died too. It took time to experience the resurrection of Easter and that the cry of Jesus on the cross, “It is Finished” didn´t mean the end as they understood it. Jesus had defeated death. On the cross he spoke to the repentant thief alongside Him, “This day you will be with me in paradise”. Paradise – what´s your image? For me it certainly isn´t that death has the last word. The tomb of the Risen Jesus on Easter Sunday morning was filled with hope and freedom.
As we remember and pray for those impacted by the disaster and all who are grieving across our world today we pray the prayer from the Celtic Prayer Book:
Into my grieving weave the strength of the Father.
Into my grieving weave the compassion of the Son.
Into my grieving weave the comfort of the Spirit.
Into my grieving I receive the presence of the three in one.
Into my anger I weave the patience of the Father.
Into my numbness I weave the healing of the Son.
Into my confusion I weave the wisdom of the Spirit
And we shall grieve together, one in community with the three in one. Amen
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
13th April
Earlier this week I heard of a friend who has decided to take up running. To ensure this isn´t a whim and that she doesn´t give up she has signed on to take part in a half marathon in a couple of months’ time.
As I was reflecting on our conversation I was conscious that no amount of inspiring books or motivational YouTube videos will make someone a runner. You just begin to run, just the tiniest distance initially and gradually building up. The only way for a non-runner to become a runner is to run. It clearly takes time to prepare for and time to recover from the end goal of the half marathon but each day is part of the preparations.
Our Christian journey through Lent has been an opportunity to walk more closely with Jesus. Perhaps we have been on a journey of taking on something new, learning and growing with Jesus, sharing hopes and dreams, setbacks and mistakes. This week we reach Holy Week. It´s often known as Passiontide. The Greek root for the English word Passion, which we often associate with romantic or sexual love, derives from Pashko which means “To Suffer”. Passion is not just about what/who you love but it is what/who you are willing to endure and suffer for. The Greek term Persona is translated Stage Mask. Suffering forces us to choose whether we want to lose the “persona”, unmask ourselves and embrace the true person. Putting the two together if we truly want to find ourselves in the midst of our losses we must be prepared to risk the uncertainty of vulnerability. In the Holy Week journey of Palm Sunday, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday Jesus walks this path of total selfless giving and vulnerability. We know the end of the story. There is Resurrection.
Resurrection reminds us that light shines in the darkness, not outside it or into it from outside but within it. In the darkness of war zones, whether literally or our personal “war zone” of isolation, fear or loss, we who have seen suffering, pain and love will also be able to share in His resurrection.
How do we tell counterfeit money from real? By learning what real money looks like! Similarly with artists, we study their work, their ways and their style. This helps us recognise the counterfeit and the fake. So this week may we keep our eyes fixed on Jesus, and know the truth of his suffering and death, his love for each one of us and the freedom we can enjoy in his resurrection life.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
6th April
On Tuesday March 22nd we in All Saints learnt of the unexpected and untimely death of Revd Ron, known simply to many as Ron. There have been many and varied emotions expressed since then. Conversations have included shock; sadness; no time to say goodbye; it doesn’t seem real; we didn´t know how ill he was; what happens now; it hits in waves. I’m sure these are only the tip of an iceberg.
Earlier I was watching 2 children playing with a ball in the swimming pool. After throwing and catching they started to push it down and then let it burst through the surface of the water. It went where it did. The further down they pushed it, the higher, more forcefully and more randomly it emerged. The way the ball behaved reminded me of grief. It pops out in unexpected places and the more we push it down the more likely it is to emerge randomly.
I am holding onto Psalm 31:7, “For you have seen my troubles and you care about the anguish of my soul”. Loss is woven into the fabric of life. The valley of the shadow of death and the way of suffering, grief and loss is a terrain which Ron walked and which we are now travelling. We read in scripture that Jesus promised life to the full. I´ve thought of that as a life of joy and miracles but this week I´ve been reminded that the life of Christ was marked by suffering as well as joy. The story of Holy Week which we remember from this coming Palm Sunday is one of disappointment, struggle and pain. Love and loss, presence and absence, suffering and resurrection aren´t sets of opposites. Rather they ebb and flow together in our life. In describing the loss of a friend C. S. Lewis writes: “Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything”. We will each have our own memories of Ron and a grief journey to walk, both individually and as a church family. We will move through it at different paces. At our car boot sale on Saturday one of our young members spoke to me: “Do you know that Ron has died?” “Yes I do and I am very sad” was my reply. He continued; “But I love Ron. He can´t die. He was my friend”.
May the words of Julian of Norwich encourage us in the coming weeks: “From Him we come. In Him we are enfolded. To Him we return”.
There will be an opportunity for us to remember and celebrate Revd Ron and his contribution to life in All Saints in the coming weeks. Meanwhile we pray for his family and each other.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
30th March
This past few weeks I´ve found myself in various “waiting” situations – waiting for flights, trains, news and results. Many of these “waitings” have meant “watching” too – a watching with, a watching for or just simply being and observing the world around me.
Sometimes it´s easy to wait and watch. At other times the watching and waiting has stirred many emotions. Sometimes words have got in the way and what was important was just the being there, waiting in the stillness, alongside. At other times, as when I was sitting at a train station, I was aware of the birdsong, the people around me and the sound and smell of freshly mown grass (I was in England and not Tenerife)! I was both a part of and apart from life going on around me.
In Matthew´s Gospel in the Garden of Gethsemane while praying to His Father Jesus asked his friends to stay, to keep watch and to pray. They simply had to wait and watch, yet they fell asleep. Each time he returned and asked them to watch and pray. Each time they fell asleep and He was left to carry His present anguish alone.
We have seen many pictures of the Ukrainian people waiting in underground shelters, waiting for an end to the horrors of war and watching the devastation occurring around them. The world watches from a distance but with the instancy of the media we are part of the horror. Many have been moved to action and across the world many have committed to pray, that the present won´t be the ultimate reality, that there will be an end to the horror of war, with healing and peace overcoming the pain and darkness experienced by so many.
In the Garden of Gethsemane as Jesus prayed to His Father, after asking his friends to wait, watch and pray, despite the darkness, pain and suffering it wasn´t the ultimate end.
Our feelings and circumstances can appear despairing and yet within them Jesus comes alongside us. He has known the pain of suffering and despair. He told his disciples: Wait to receive the Holy Spirit. He will give strength and power.
Have you ever climbed up a tower? The landscape is seen from a different perspective than from the ground view. It enables us to see further and to see beyond the immediate. Today we pray for strength and power for all those who are in the darkness of waiting and watching, for a different viewpoint and a sense of light in their darkness.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
23rd March
This past year we seem to have become very used to having covid rules and regulations and their being changed depending on the situation locally. I’ve found it interesting how they have varied from country to country. My sister in Sweden has had very little disruption by any rules. Here in Tenerife the rules have depended on our “level”.
Are you naturally a stickler for following rules or do you tend to sail as close to the edge as you can get away with? Do rules give security or are they a frustration? One year for Lent I decided I would stick to the speed limit (shameful, yes I know) rather than regularly exceeding it.
Our upbringing can affect how we view rules too. “Do to others as you would like them to do to you” was a rule that was emphasised when I was at primary school. It encompassed love, peace, compassion, kindness, gentleness and inclusivity – encouraging us to include everyone in our games.
It´s interesting how some rules stick. We still today must keep our liquids to under 100ml when flying with hand luggage.
Perhaps you have your own rules for life. The Diocese in Europe encourages us each to have a Rule of Life. It includes 4 aspects.
The first is Knowing God: To commit ourselves to regular participation in an act of worship.
The second is Growing in Christ: To commit ourselves to regular prayer and intentional study of our faith and where possible to seek guidance from another to resource us as we seek to journey with Christ.
The third is Building Community: To offer time, treasure and talents to work constructively with our fellow Christians in building community within the church and in the places where we live.
The fourth is Living beyond ourselves: To seek purposefully to find a specific way or ways to relate our faith to the wider world in which we have been placed by God our Creator.
As Lent is a time when we can each focus on our journey of knowing Jesus and growing closer to Him I hope that using a Rule of Life could be one way to do this.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader
16th March
For the past 2 days Tenerife has been hit by Storm Celia. We’ve seen videos of trees being uprooted, patios covered in palm leaves and husks which have been torn down by the wind, waves crashing high over harbour walls, lashing rain making tiles lethal to walk on and sand being whirled along beaches stinging anything in its path.
It’s one thing to sit inside and watch it happening from the warmth and safety behind the patio doors – though I have to admit to wondering whether the doors would be blown in as the sunbed was thrown from one side of the terrace to the other! It´s quite another to be outside in the midst of it. I live overlooking the harbour and from it there are frequent boat trips to see the whales and dolphins. There were no sailings over the past few days as the waves crashed onto the rocks and the turquoise swirling foam poured over the walls.
I didn´t venture very far during the height of it but last night I sat on the outdoor settee under the shelter of the roof, watching the palms bend with the wind and observing the changing colours of the sky. In one direction it was jet black and you could see the rain falling further out over the sea and La Gomera. In the other direction there were whisps of white cloud and pockets of blue sky. Suddenly the black clouds parted and a ball of brilliant sunlight shone through so brightly. I had to squint as it shone directly onto me. Despite what I could see the sun was still there, hidden, and it would be setting as it always did, whether it was visible or not.
Storms are part of life. They were certainly part of Jesus´ disciples´ life. On the lake as the disciples were tossed about in a boat fearing for their safety, Jesus slept. When I saw the water yesterday I asked myself how anyone would be able to sleep through a boat being tossed up and down in the storm. As a child I remember having a bible storybook and seeing a picture of a wooden craft with slender mast, sails and Jesus asleep in the stern on a pillow as the boat rode the crest of the swirling lake water. The disciples looked petrified as they clung onto the sides.
Haven´t we all been there, facing whichever storm we find ourselves in the midst of? Our media is full of the most unspeakable and unthinkable storms which the people of Ukraine are enduring. That storm is known to all and thankfully many are coming to their aid and standing shoulder to shoulder in support. However perhaps you are facing your own storm – known to a few or just yourself.
Let´s return to that boat on the lake in Galilee. Jesus was woken by the disciples. He spoke to the storm: Peace. Be Still. He told his fellow sailors: Do not be afraid.
He tells us the same.
In this coming week let us cling to the anchor in our storms, Jesus. In the final verse of Matthew´s Gospel we read: Know that I am with you always…Jesus is our companion in the storms as well as in the calm. Let us pray for all who are storm tossed and for those who are clinging to their boat in the hope that Jesus will speak words of peace to them, that they will know his presence alongside them and see the sunlight behind the darkness of their clouds.
Judith Rigby
Congregational Worship Leader