Sharing some thoughts

Before the collapse of the Soviet Union, the Russian author Alexander Solzhenitsyn endured years in the brutal prison camps of Siberia. Day after day, he worked in the fields under extreme conditions, facing starvation and exhaustion. His suffering eventually led him to despair. One day, overwhelmed by hopelessness, Solzhenitsyn gave up. He dropped his shovel, walked to a bench, and sat down—fully expecting a guard to beat him to death for refusing to work. He had seen it happen before. But as he waited, head bowed, a fellow prisoner quietly approached. Without a word, the man drew a cross in the dirt with a stick, then returned to his labour. That simple act changed everything. As Solzhenitsyn stared at the cross, he was reminded that there was something greater than the Soviet regime, greater than the suffering around him. The cross represented hope—for him and for all people. Strengthened by that truth, he picked up his shovel and returned to work. Outwardly, nothing had changed...

  One year, while on holiday, I had the opportunity to stand at the spot where  Martin Luther King Jr.  delivered his iconic “I Have a Dream” speech. I’m not going to bore you with holiday stories, but I do want to reflect on that speech this morning  -  and how it connects with our gospel reading from Luke  ( 17:11–19 ) . King’s speech is often remembered for the repeated phrase “I have a dream.” He says it nine times, painting a vision of a better, more equal, more just society. But there’s another phrase he uses just as often: “Let freedom ring.” And I want to suggest that perhaps this speech should be known not as the “I Have a Dream” speech, but the “Let Freedom Ring” speech. Because while dreams speak of the future, freedom speaks of the present. “Let freedom ring” is a call to action, a cry of victory, a declaration that transformation is possible now  -  not just someday. In our gospel reading, we see a story of healing and freedom. Ten le...

There are moments in life when the call to follow Jesus feels overwhelming - times when we’d perhaps rather bury our heads and pretend not to have heard… I don’t think it was any different for the early followers of Jesus.  His words to the disciples in the gospel from Luke (17:5-10) this morning are not gentle suggestions—they are radical commands: forgive endlessly, rebuke sin, welcome the stranger, seek the lost, and live with integrity. It perhaps isn’t any wonder that the disciples cry out, “Increase our faith!” They weren’t asking for a little boost. They were desperate. Jesus had just laid out a vision of discipleship that felt impossible. And maybe you’ve felt that too at times. Maybe you’ve looked at your own life and thought, “I don’t have enough faith to live like that.” But there’s good news if you have thought that as most of us have at times:  Jesus doesn’t say, “You need more.” He says, “You already have enough.” If you have faith the size of a mustard seed—tiny...

  If someone asked you today, “Would you rather be rich or poor?” most of us would instinctively lean towards riches. After all, who wouldn’t want comfort, security, and the freedom that wealth seems to offer? But today’s Gospel reading ( Luke 16:19–31) invites us to look deeper. It’s not a condemnation of wealth itself, but a powerful reminder that true richness is found not in what we possess, but in how we live - with compassion, with awareness, and with a heart open to God and others. Jesus tells a story that’s both sobering and full of grace. It’s a tale of two men - one clothed in luxury, the other clothed in suffering. And yet, it’s the man who seemed to have nothing who is given a name: Lazarus, “the one whom God helps.” That name is no accident. It’s a whisper of hope, a promise that God sees, God knows, and God helps - even when the world turns away. We’re told: “There was a rich man who was clothed in purple and fine linen and who feasted sumptuously every day. And ...