Sharing some thoughts

  Families can be special in all kinds of different ways. Sometimes it is in the simple things - the clatter of plates at a shared meal, the familiar voices drifting through a house, the quiet reassurance of knowing you belong somewhere. And sometimes it is in the harder things - the disagreements, the disappointments, the times when relationships seem stretched. It can be in the sharing of celebrations and joys, or in the times when we’re bound together by sadness…  Families can be places of deep love, but they can also be places of challenge, because families are made of people, and people are gloriously imperfect.   One thing is common though, whether we have families with who we want to spend lots of time or not, and that is that most of us carry a longing to belong, to be accepted, to be held securely within a circle that says, “You are ours.” It is into that longing that Paul speaks in Romans (8:12-25). He doesn’t begin with rules or expectations, he begins with ide...

    Life is full of choices. Every day we decide where we’re going, what we’re eating, when we’re leaving, what we’re watching – there are choices everywhere. Sometimes they’re fun, sometimes they’re exhausting.   There’s a story about Herbert Asquith, the former Prime Minister, who once spent a weekend with the Rothschild family. At teatime the butler approached him with a level of choice that could only happen in the world of the very wealthy:   “Tea, coffee, or a peach from off the wall, sir?” “Tea, please.” “China, India, or Ceylon, sir?” “China, please.” “Lemon, milk, or cream, sir?” “Milk, please.” “Jersey, Hereford, or Shorthorn, sir?”   Sometimes choice goes too far. You walk into a shop and want everything or you can open a restaurant menu and want everything. Choice can be wonderful but it can also be hard!   Our readings today (Matthew 13:1-9, 18-23/ Romans 8:1-11) are all about choice, but not the “China, India, or Ceylon?” kind. They’re about t...

  Romans 7:15-25a & Matthew 11:16-19, 25-30 There’s a story I heard once about a man who bought a treadmill. He was determined to get fit. He told everyone about it and watched videos about it. He even bought special running shoes. But the treadmill sat in the corner of his living room, quietly gathering dust. Every time he walked past it, he felt a little pang of guilt. He wanted to use it. He meant to use it. He planned to use it. But somehow… he didn’t. One day his friend came round, looked at the treadmill, and said, “Ah yes - the world’s most expensive clothes hanger.” The man laughed, but he also sighed. “I don’t understand myself,” he said. “I want to do this. I really do. But I just… don’t.” And I think Paul would have nodded sympathetically at that moment. Because in Romans, Paul describes something we all probably recognise, that strange inner conflict between what we want to do and what we actually do. He says, “I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I...

There’s hopefully a moment in our lives, sometimes early, sometimes late, when we realise that God didn’t wait for us to be sorted out before loving us. He didn’t wait for us to be holy, or confident, or prayerful, or even particularly interested. He loved us while we were still… whatever we were.  That’s the message of the part of Paul’s letter to the Romans that we heard (5:1-8): “While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” It’s one of the most amazing sentences in the Bible. It tells us that God’s love is not a reward for good behaviour; it’s the starting point for a new life. That passage from Romans tells us what God has done for us, and then the reading from the gospel of Matthew (9:35-10:8) tells us what God now invites us to do with Him. Matthew paints a great picture of Jesus moving through towns and villages, teaching, healing, encouraging, sometimes challenging. But perhaps the most incredible line says, “He saw the crowds, and had compassion for them, because they...