Sharing some thoughts

  We don’t often hear readings from Paul’s letter to Philemon—and that’s largely because we’ve just heard almost the entire letter this morning. It’s one of the shortest books in the Bible, but it’s packed with meaning and challenge, as well as grace. Paul wrote from house arrest in Rome to Philemon, a wealthy Christian in Colossae. Philemon’s slave, Onesimus, had fled to Rome and there, he encountered Paul and was led to faith in Jesus. Now Paul writes to ask Philemon to receive Onesimus back - not as a slave, but as a brother in Christ. And Paul doesn’t just ask - he offers to pay back any debt that Onesimus owes.  There are several themes that rise from this short letter. First, the issue of slavery. It’s troubling to us of course, and rightly so. Though it was accepted in Paul’s time, we know that no one should ever be owned by another. And tragically, slavery still exists today - in forced labour, human trafficking, and exploitation. But the gospel speaks into this. It pr...

  Our New Testament readings today (Hebrews 13:1–8, 15–16 & Luke  14:1, 7–14) touch on a number of themes, too many to explore fully this morning. But one thread runs clearly through both - that real love produces real actions. In other words, our relationship with Jesus, if it is a relationship of love, must change us day by day. And one of the ways today’s readings point us toward that change is in how we care for people—especially through our hospitality. In the letter to the Hebrews, we hear that wonderful challenge:  “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it.”  We’ll come back to that in a few moments.   And in the gospel reading, Jesus speaks about not assuming the highest place at a dinner and then tells a story about inviting people to a great banquet—not friends or relatives or rich neighbours, but instead the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.   Now, Jesus isn’t...

  This week, many young people received their GCSE results. For some, it was a moment of triumph after long days of study and uncertainty. For others, it may have brought disappointment, confusion, or a fresh wave of anxiety about the future. Life, as we know, is rarely consistent – it tends to be a mix of challenge and uplift, of valleys and mountaintops. And today’s readings reflect that rhythm perfectly. In Luke’s gospel (13:10-17), we meet a woman who had been in pain for 18 years. She didn’t ask for healing, she didn’t cry out, she didn’t even speak. But Jesus saw her and that was enough. He called her forward, laid hands on her, and she was healed. Just like that. No ritual. No preconditions. No theological debate. Just compassion. But this wasn’t just a healing, it was the start of a confrontation. Jesus knew full well that healing on the Sabbath would provoke the synagogue leader. And he did it anyway. He did it because compassion always overrides custom. And grace is never...

  This morning I want to think about the words we heard earlier known as the Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55). The words are very well known to all who attend evensong as they are included at every service. These are the words of Mary after she has been told that she is to give birth to Jesus.  It’s a remarkable set of words for a young lady, and it’s worth just remembering the position she had found herself in. Here was a girl probably in her early to mid teens who was engaged to be married to a local carpenter who was probably quite a lot older than her, and she received a vision that she was to give birth.  Whilst she may have had little doubt about the reality of that vision and of the virgin birth, she must also have known and feared what people around her would have been thinking. The disgrace and shame she had brought on her family would only have been part of the problem – for her, if she escaped a literal death sentence, life may just as well have been over because she ...