<strong>Today's readings: Isaiah 61.10-62.3; Luke 2.15-21.</strong>"Mary treasured all these words and pondered them in her heart".I always love this phrase, whenever we come to it in the Christmas readings. It seems so personal, so true - as if, years later, after all the worries and griefs of raising this child and watching him go to his death, after all the mystified joy of his resurrection, Mary has retold this story. And she looks back at the whole tale and now, now that she can make sense of it all, she remembers that even then, with a new baby in her arms and at her breast, even then she wondered what it all meant.In this phrase, Mary comes alive for me. A new mother, treasuring up everything that anyone says about her child, wondering what the future holds for him - that's so relatable, so human, so absolutely true and beautiful. I think of all the new mums now, sharing photos of their baby on social media and chatting on Mumsnet, and think how universal and timeless it is to treasure what people say to us about our children and to ponder, to wonder what it all means, what will happen. To try to make sense of it all.It also seems to me that this time between Christmas and New Year is the perfect time to do a bit of pondering. I'm not one for making resolutions - and I think last year taught us very clearly how easily our plans can get ripped up and thrown away anyway. But still, as we head to the end of what has been a deeply shocking year, full of fear and trauma, I think there's going to be quite a lot of pondering going on. Quite a lot of looking back, quite a lot of sadness and regret - and hopefully quite a lot of looking forward, quite a lot of hope and optimism.But if you can't quite manage hope, then I pray that you will have faith. Faith that God is with us, that God is working God's purpose out. It has been a tough year and who knows what the future will hold. But like Mary let us remain steadfast in our faith. Like Mary, let us treasure God's Word and ponder it in our hearts. Amen.<strong>Prayer for this week</strong>God in Trinity, eternal unity of perfect love: gather the nations to be one family,and draw us into your holy life through the birth of Emmanuel, our Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
Sunday 22 November, Christ the King Readings for Sunday 22 November: Ezekiel 34.11–16,20–24, Matthew 25.31–46 Reflection We are Strictly fans in our house. Every Saturday night in Strictly season you can find the three of us on the sofa in front of the telly – hooked. And not just on Saturday night either – in our house, there’s Strictly chatter at the dinner table practically every day. And one of the things we talk about is what it must be like to work with the professional dancers. How long and how often do they rehearse? Do the celebrities and the pros ever dislike each other? Most importantly - what are the professionals like in the rehearsal studio? Are they bossy and fierce? Or kind and encouraging? And which would we prefer, if it were us in the studio? Me, I like a kind and encouraging teacher. I like to be challenged, but I really need encouragement, especially when I’m learning a new skill, so I’d definitely like my Strictly pro to be supportive. I had enough of shouty, critical teachers when I was at school – I don’t need any of that now I’m an adult. But other people disagree – I have friends whose idea of a fun workout is to be yelled at by a former Army sergeant. They know that without that kind of pressure they would give up. Carrot or stick – we all respond differently. Today’s Gospel reading, at first glance, seems to be all about the stick. It certainly makes for worrying reading – I don’t think it’s possible to read this gospel without realising that we may, in fact, be among the goats, destined for the eternal fire. Who among us hasn’t walked past a beggar? Which of us hasn’t failed to feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, look after the sick? This Gospel certainly sends a wake-up call – this is Jesus in full Sergeant Major, kick up the behind mode, warning us that God takes very seriously our failure to love our neighbour. Jesus warns us that whenever we fail to help someone in need, we fail to help him. Whenever we ignore someone homeless, whenever we turn off the television during a charity appeal, whenever we judge someone who is poorer than us, we do the same to Jesus. So yes, there’s plenty of stick in this reading today, plenty of warnings to get you motivated to love your neighbour. But there is also carrot, for the people like me who need encouragement. First of all, never forget that even the most forbidding passages of scripture have to be read in the context of God’s unfailing love for us. And secondly, in case you are worrying that all of this is unachievable, a second reading might help you to realise that actually, the bar is very low indeed. Because if turning our back on our neighbour means we are turning our back on God, don’t forget that it works the other way too. Jesus says that what we do to the least of God's family, we also do to God. My older daughter, Matilda, is also preaching this Gospel today and she puts it like this - when we phone an elderly relative or listen to a child or give money to charity, it is as if we are extending that compassion to God. Small acts of great love are what the Lord looks for in us. My friends, there is both warning and encouragement in today’s Gospel. But whichever way you look at it the message is clear – it is not enough to love, you must also act. We need to take Jesus seriously when he says we have to look after other people. So how will you extend God’s love to the people around you today? Amen.
Second Sunday before Advent<span style="font-size: 1rem;">Readings for Sunday 15 November: Zephaniah 1.7,12–18, Matthew 25.14–30</span> Reflection Are you a risk taker? Someone who likes to take a chance, who enjoys the thrill of a bit of danger? Are you first in the queue for the rollercoaster? Or are you a bit risk averse? The kind of person who sticks to the speed limit and whose first instinct in the face of danger is to shut the front door, draw the curtains and hide away? I’ve been thinking a lot about risk lately. In one way or another, I think most of us have, because if coronavirus has taught us anything, it is that life is full of risk. Mostly as we go about day to day we ignore the risks and get on with life. But coronavirus is a constant wake-up call. Life is risky, it says, as we watch the death toll rise, as the government tells us to stay indoors. Life is risky. Last week, everyone in the vicarage – me, my husband and my younger daughter – received a letter from the government telling us we need to shield again. All three of us have health challenges – challenges which under normal circumstances have little effect on our daily lives. But in these far from normal circumstances we are considered Clinically Extremely Vulnerable and have been asked to take extra precautions. We have to stay indoors except for exercise. No popping out to the shops if we run out of bread or milk. No going to see the rest of our family. No visitors at home. No going to work. Our health issues, which we normally ignore, put us at risk. It’s hard – and it’s making us all quite cross. We really don’t want to shield – we want to be out and about, seeing the people we love and doing the things we enjoy. But we won’t. However hard it is, we will do our best to follow the rules. And I want everyone to do the same - to follow the guidance about staying safe. I want you all to take as much care of yourselves and the people you love as possible. Look after yourselves, stay safe, wear masks, socially distance. I am certainly not going to tell you to take any risks in relation to coronavirus – quite the opposite. But I do want us to think about taking more risks in our relationship with God – because that’s what today’s Gospel tells us to do. In the parable, one of the servants plays it safe. He takes the money his master has given him and buries it, too scared of his master to do anything useful or practical with the money, certainly too scared to take any risks. And as we see from the master’s response, this is not enough. That’s because being a Christian is not a risk-free endeavour. It is not the safe option. As Christians, we don’t get to draw the curtains and settle down – it’s not enough to be risk-averse and bury our talents. In fact, the work of the Christian is deeply risky – the work of offering love to strangers, showing hospitality, caring, giving, witnessing, speaking out against injustice. The work of loving God and one another is difficult and inherently risky. And so, even as we stay home, wear masks and keep our distance, we need to be ready to risk deepening our relationship with God, to risk showing the love of God to others, to risk using our talents to proclaim the good news. So my friends – stay safe. But be bold, be brave and take risks for the kingdom of God. Amen.
Join us as we remember those who have died as a result of wars, as we lay a wreath, read out the names of some of those who lost their lives from our parish and mark the two minute silence. If you wish to time this so that the silence begins at 11.00am, please start the video at 10.50.45.
