Finding Jesus on the Wrong Road: Reflections on Doubt and the Journey of FaithYou’ve likely heard the phrase "journey of faith" more times than you can count. Lately, it seems pilgrimages are having a bit of a cultural revival, and for good reason. Whether we are literally walking a trail or simply navigating the terrain of daily life, every one of us is on a journey that comes with its own peaks and valleys.In the book of Acts, Peter urges his listeners to be baptised. It’s a powerful moment of beginning—receiving the gifts of forgiveness and the Holy Spirit. But as many of us know, baptism isn't the finish line; it’s the starting blocks.Living It OutWhile the Holy Spirit dwells within us, transforming us from the inside out, faith requires "doing." It’s a daily practice of:Reading Scripture: Moving beyond Sunday mornings to find God in the pages of the Bible at home or in small groups.Persistent Prayer: Carrying one another in prayer during our quiet moments.These habits help us grow deeper into God. But what happens when the path gets dark? What do we do when we aren't even sure we’re on the right road anymore?The Road to Emmaus: Walking AwayOne of the most encouraging stories in the New Testament is the walk to Emmaus. If you look closely at the passage, you’ll notice something vital: the two disciples were walking away from Jerusalem.They were confused, angry, and vocal about their disappointment. They had followed Jesus, but he hadn't lived up to their expectations. He had died. Nothing made sense. So, they did what many of us do when we feel let down—they distanced themselves.A Hard Truth: On our own journeys, we all have seasons like this. Sometimes we need to express our doubts. Sometimes the Christian community feels claustrophobic, or faith loses its vibrancy. If we’re being really honest, there are days when we aren't sure we believe at all.When Faith is Taken ApartI remember a time during my own training for the priesthood at Liverpool Cathedral when my faith felt like it was being pulled apart. Everything I had taken "as gospel" was suddenly questioned, analysed, and reordered. It was an incredibly challenging season, but in hindsight, it was a healthy one.To truly own our faith, to have a deep, authentic relationship with the risen Jesus, we have to be allowed to ask questions. We have to turn to Scripture and to each other to figure out what we actually believe, rather than just reciting what we’ve been told.The Real Presence in the Breaking of BreadIn the midst of that season of questioning, I found one anchor: Holy Communion.Even when I felt "far off" or uncertain, I believed in the power of the consecrated bread and wine. I believe that the real presence of Jesus is found there, whether we are in a season of fervent belief or deep doubt.The disciples on the road to Emmaus didn’t recognise Jesus while they were arguing and doubting. They recognised him in the breaking of the bread.He Walks With YouThe Emmaus road reminds us that the risen Christ comes toward us and walks alongside us—even when we are walking in the wrong direction. You may not recognise him at first. Spiritual guidance often arrives in ways that aren't obvious. Sometimes, it’s only by looking back that we see how Christ’s story and our own have been woven together.If you are in a season of exploration, doubting, or questioning, take heart. These are not signs of failure; they are part of the rich journey of faith. Jesus is before you, behind you, and beside you, always waiting to make himself known.Amen.Fr Martin.
I’ll Leave You With This: The Power of a Final WordIn my work across the church, hospital chaplaincy, and the diocese, I do a lot of public speaking. Over the years, I’ve picked up a few tools to keep people’s attention, but there is one phrase in particular that is guaranteed to make a room go quiet.If you watch a great orator or a TED talk, you’ll hear these five words: "I’ll leave you with this."Those words cue the hearer in for the big finish, the grand finale, the cherry on top. They create a space to leave a lasting impression and go out with a bang. In John chapter 20, we find Jesus doing exactly that. On the day of his resurrection, he grabs his followers' attention one final time with a line that packs a punch.Behind Locked DoorsTo understand the weight of Jesus’ words, we have to look at the room he entered. The disciples were huddled together, harbouring a "queasy" feeling and sharing one overriding emotion: fear.The doors were locked. They were terrified of the authorities, but they were also living on anecdotal, flimsy evidence. Two people saw some linen in an empty tomb; one woman met a "gardener" who claimed to be the Lord. Behind those locked doors, the community was staring at the walls, trying to make sense of a world that had fallen apart.The Ultimate "Mic Drop"Then, Jesus stands among them. The fear dissolves into joy as they recognise the wounds in his hands and side.Now, if it were me, I might have been tempted to lead with an "I told you so." But Jesus, undeterred by crucifixion and unobstructed by locked doors, chooses a different "big finish." He offers a parting gift that changes everything:"Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you." Then, he breathed on them and said, "Receive the Holy Spirit."A Different Kind of PeaceThe peace Jesus offers is nothing like the peace the world sells us.It isn't the Pax Romana, won through domination and sustained by threat.It isn't a compromised peace, brokered by playing politics.It isn't the kind of peace that requires us to stay in our lane or silence the cry for justice.The peace of Christ was won through love, submission, and non-violence. It is a peace that "blows off the cobwebs," refuses to sweep things under the carpet, and speaks directly to those who are troubled.Today, our world feels like it is careering from one crisis to another. When the world’s peace ebbs, Jesus’ peace flows. When the world’s peace feels suffocating, Jesus’ peace is breath itself.Carriers of the SpiritJesus doesn't just give us peace to keep us comfortable; he gives it to us so we can carry it. As Spirit-filled people, we are called to be the witnesses. How we share that peace—and how we wield it through the forgiveness of sins—is the mission of the church.Later in the story, Thomas arrives and asks, "So, did I miss anything?" A week later, Jesus returns to include him, too. It’s a reminder that this peace flourishes through the presence of Jesus and extends even to those who weren't in the room the first time.Jesus 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. Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I send you."Amen.Fr Martin
The Gardener of the New Creation: A Journey Through the Empty TombThere is so much happening in the Easter Gospel that we have to journey through it carefully. If we rush, we might miss the quiet, wonderful messages tucked within the folds of the story.The opening line of John’s Gospel sets the stage: “Early on the first day while it was still dark…”The Miracle in the ShadowsI wonder, does it seem strange to you that God chose to perform His most amazing, world-changing work in the dark? Before the first light of day. Before anyone could see anything, let alone witness the resurrection. Before any human hand or faith could claim involvement.In a world obsessed with the "photo op" and the "media opportunity," God went about this world-shattering work in the quiet and the dark. Somewhere on the edge of a sleeping city, in a garden with a tomb, the heavy stone was rolled away.The tomb was empty. And it was just waiting for someone to discover it.Clues in the LinenWhen the disciples arrived, they found the linen grave wrappings and the cloth that had covered Jesus’ face. To the casual observer, it might look like a mess left behind. But the details are incredible:The Unblemished Lamb: In Jewish custom, a lamb for sacrifice was wrapped to protect it from blemish. Think back to Christmas, Jesus was wrapped in cloths in a manger. Think of Good Friday, Pilate said, "I find no fault with this man." Jesus is the unblemished sacrificial lamb, and the grave clothes remind us of His purity.The Folded Napkin: The cloth from Jesus' face was folded neatly in a separate place. In Jewish custom, if a master at a meal screwed up his napkin, he was finished. But if he folded it, it meant he was not finished and would return.The message was hidden in plain sight: Jesus is not finished. He will return.The Power of "Turning"The act of "turning" is the key action in this story, and the key to all Christian discipleship. Mary Magdalene turns three times in this passage, and each turn brings her closer to the truth.Initially, Mary assumes the body has been stolen. She is weeping, exhausted, and traumatised. When she turns away from the tomb, she sees a man she believes to be the gardener. There is a deep irony here. In one sense, she was right.Think about the imagery John is using:They are in a Garden (Recalling the Garden of Eden).It is the morning of the first day (Recalling Genesis and Creation).Jesus is the New Adam, the Gardener of a New Creation.Just as the first Adam named the animals, Jesus begins this new creation by naming His: "Mary." With that one word, she turns for a third time in joyful recognition.Our Own JourneyLike Mary, we all have a journey to make. We must come to this place, bend down, and look into the place of death only to find it empty and defeated.As Christians, we believe death has no hold over us. But the looking isn't enough; we must also turn. We turn towards Jesus as a new beginning. This is the heart of our faith and the core of our baptismal vows:"I turn to Christ."The wonderful thing is this: when we finally make that turn, we realise He is already there, waiting to greet us.He is risen indeed. Alleluia!Fr Martin
The Greatest Miracle of Good Friday: The One That Didn't HappenPart of the work of a Priest is to illuminate the Gospels, to shed new light on ancient truths. We are tasked with engaging deeply with the Scriptures to find that one spark that might point someone toward Jesus; something that might fundamentally reshape a listener's week, their month, or their entire life.But I will be honest with you: one of the greatest challenges a Priest faces is doing justice to God’s Holy Word. Some weeks, the words flow like a river. Other times, it takes hours of prayer, preparation, and the heavy lifting of the Holy Spirit to craft a message that honours the weight of the Gospel.Sometimes, it takes a miracle just to find the right words. And as I reflected on the Passion reading this year, I realised that miracles,or rather, the lack of them, are exactly what makes this day so significant.An Ominous SilenceOn that first Good Friday, the crowd gathered at the foot of the Cross expected a miracle. They dared Jesus to step down, to save Himself, to prove His power. And yet... there was an astonishing absence of the supernatural.Think of what we might have anticipated based on the rest of Jesus' ministry:The Angels: The heavenly hosts who tended to the Lord in the wilderness were conspicuous by their absence. They kept their distance.The Father’s Voice: The God who spoke with clarity and authority at the Baptism and the Transfiguration remained ominously silent.The Power over Nature: The ability to walk on water, calm the storms, and reverse the course of death was suddenly, jarringly, suspended.The Miracle of RestraintI believe the true miracle of Good Friday is that there were no miracles.Jesus hung there, wholly capable of rescuing Himself. He had the power to end the agony, to call down legions of angels, and to step off those nails. But He chose not to. He deliberately relinquished His privileges, His power, and His position. He clung to that Cross until He could finally say, "It is finished," and draw His final breath.The miracle was His restraint. He stayed there for you and for me, so that we would never have to pay the price for our own sins.A Love of OneI have said this before, and I will continue to say it until it truly sinks into our hearts: Even if you were the only person on this planet, Jesus would have still gone to the Cross for you. He sees you. He knows you. He loves you unconditionally. He didn't stay on the Cross for a nameless "humanity", He stayed there for you.The stillness of Good Friday was not a sign of defeat; it was the ultimate act of love. The power was suspended so that the grace could be extended.And as we wait in the quiet of the tomb, we remember: the silence only lasted for a moment. Three days later, the miracles began again.Amen.
