Looking back, looking forwardBack in 2021 as a new priest and curate in a parish with no incumbent, feeling tried and tested, I took myself off to Devon for a few days’ retreat musing over this verse (Psalm 61:2):From the ends of the earth I call to you,I call as my heart grows faint;lead me to the rock that is higher than I.With my OS Map App at the ready, I headed off to find a high rock. The first I came to, Heltor Rock, was too risky to climb alone and I felt frustrated at missing out on the promise of a panorama. The next, Blackingstone Rock, was even higher and seemed an equally impossible climb. I circled, vainly hoping for an easy way up and was astounded to find an 19th century set of steps with iron railings attached to the rock, so up I went to experience wonderful 360° views.My heart lifted on this high rock. Later that same day I came across a prayer in a chapel that resonated: you are the steps we climb; you are the rail we cling to on the way. God’s message to me in providing a staircase to the rock was clear: I am your rock and your salvation (Psalm 62:2) and as Jesus promised, I am the way, the steps and the rail for the climb.Fast forward to 2025: Returning to Blackingstone Rock recently I had a different experience where, in the quiet vast space, I felt the shelter of his presence as I sat on the rock. It would be dishonest though to omit to mention the fear I felt on the climb and until I was safely seated in the middle.September brings change for many of us and change can make us fearful. Even the return to activities that have just been on pause over the summer can create some nervousness, and for those starting a new school year as learners or staff we might feel keyed up, and more so if it’s a new setting. For some there will be a mix of nerves and excitement at a transformative moment in their faith journey – being confirmed on 21st September.With the opportunity to be creative I came up with this haiku-style verse and an image of me on the rockSmall in great landscapeStill, exposed, yet safe and soundWholly surroundedIf you find yourself anxious as you look forward, may you find in God that high rock that provides a place of refuge and a sense of security knowingThe Lord’s unfailing love surrounds the one who trusts in him (Psalm 32:10)
https://www.goodhub.com/go/oxfordshire-historic-churches-trust-200622A number of friends of Launton Church are taking part in Ride + Stride on 13th September. Any sponsorship money will be split 50:50 between St Mary's Church and Oxfordshire Historic Churches Trust. This is a great opportunity to look after the village churches of Oxfordshire with an extra special lift for us here at Launton. Please support with sponsorship however great or small. There is a form in church or the link above allows you to give online from the comfort of your home while our cyclists do all the hard work on their bikes. Thank you so much.
Where are you, God? A week has passed since the town of Bicester was shaken to the core by tragedy. The lives of three courageous local people were lost as a fire took hold at Bicester Motion. For some this is a personal grief – the families, friends, colleagues and other contacts of Martyn Sadler, Jennie Logan and David Chester are facing the terrible sorrow of sudden bereavement. For others this sends a shockwave, bringing to mind other experiences of loss and trauma we may have suffered and disrupting our assumptions about what should and should not be. There is a sense of powerlessness and helplessness in the face of circumstances that cannot be changed but nevertheless we gather, because this is something we can do. We stand together, we mark our mutual care, support and love for one another in our presence, in the laying of flowers, in the messages in books of condolence. The psalms, ancient texts in the bible, give us the language of suffering. Psalm 22 is one of those laments where the psalmist cries out to God – Jesus cried out these words as he hung on the cross - ‘My God, my God why have you forsaken me?’ It continues, ‘Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.’ It’s full of honest pain. God can bear it. In despair, we cling on to the hope revealed through the resurrection of Jesus and the promise that neither height nor depth can separate us from the love of God.
