Sharing some thoughts

I heard that, back in 2003, a funeral company in Brazil released an advert on local TV with the rather bold motto: “Our clients have never come back to complain.” Well… this morning’s gospel reading (John 11:1–45) gives us the story of someone who very much broke the rule of never coming back! We’ve heard the extraordinary account of Lazarus, the friend of Jesus, who had died and yet lived again. It’s a story that reminds us how quickly life moves on. But in the middle of all that change, this passage gives us one great constant, that is the voice of Jesus saying, “I am the resurrection and the life.” He speaks those words to Martha, Lazarus’ sister. She loved her brother deeply and she believed in Jesus wholeheartedly. And Martha was convinced that if Jesus had only arrived sooner, Lazarus would still be alive. Her faith was strong, but not quite strong enough to imagine what Jesus was about to do next. And who can blame her? She believed Jesus could heal. She believed he could...

  A long time back, I read the story of a twelve year old boy who was born without an immune system, and it has stayed with me ever since. Because even the most ordinary germs could kill him, he spent his entire life inside a sterile plastic bubble. There were no hugs, no handshakes, no human touch at all. Before he underwent a bonemarrow transplant that might finally allow him to live outside that bubble, someone asked him what he most wanted to do if the operation succeeded. His answer was simple but incredibly powerful: “I want to walk barefoot on grass and touch my mother’s hand.” Small things can mean so much. A touch, a hand held, a moment of tenderness. Today’s readings remind us how powerful such care can be, and how love, for all its beauty, can also bring deep pain. And on Mothering Sunday, those emotions sit very close to the surface. For some, today is a day of uncomplicated joy. For others, it is a day that stirs grief, longing, or complicated memories. Our reading...

Today we celebrate St David’s Day, the Patron Saint of Wales, and also the patronal festival here. A double celebration, which surely gives us permission for at least one joke. So, I’ll begin with the wellknown story of the referee who arrived in heaven. He was met by the man in charge, who said, “Welcome. Before you enter Heaven, is there anything you’d like to confess?” The referee shuffled awkwardly. “Well… yes. In an England–Wales international, I gave Wales a penalty that won them the match. I saw the replay afterwards and… it wasn’t a penalty. It’s been on my conscience ever since.” “You don’t need to worry, my son,” said the gatekeeper. “You made the correct decision.” “Oh, thank you, St Peter,” said the referee, relieved. “Oh,” said the gatekeeper, “it’s St Peter’s day off. I’m St David.” Moving swiftly on… It feels particularly appropriate that this year St David’s Day falls in Lent, because David’s life was famously simple, disciplined, and—if we’re honest—probably rather mor...

There’s a moment in the  reading from  Genesis (2:15- 17;3:1 -7)  that always makes me  think . It’s the moment just before everything  seems to fall apart  -  Adam  and Eve are standing in a garden overflowing with possibility , with  beauty, abundance, freedom. God has given them  everything they need, and more besides. And yet, in the middle of all that goodness, there is one tree they are told not to touch.   It’s a strange detail, isn’t it? Why put the tree there at all? Why allow the possibility of failure?   But perhaps the point is that love always involves freedom. You cannot have  a  real relationship without the possibility of choosing otherwise. God doesn’t create  robots,  God creates people. And people, as we know from our own lives, have a remarkable capacity to choose  our own thing  even if  that isn’t  always  good for us !    Back in that garden, t he ser...