If you would like to donate to our church, either on a regular basis (monthly or annually) or as "one off" donation please use one of the forms below. If you would like further information on how to support our church please contact us and we would be happy to help.
February thoughts…. On New Year’s Eve at our Benefice Communion Jane spoke of the words Mary pondered in her heart. On the threshold of a new year were invited to reflect on things that bring us comfort, maybe the words of a hymn or a prayer, maybe a piece of Scripture, maybe music or a piece of art. The Mexican poet and academic Cesar A Cruz is often quoted as saying that “Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable.” That thought is often used to describe the task of the Church but it goes back to an earlier suggestion made by Peter Dunne (1867 – 1936) that the role of journalism is to comfort the afflicted and afflict the comfortable. When we speak of comfort I am reminded of the section of the Bayeux Tapestry which depicts Bishop Odo comforting the Norman troops. He is doing so by waving his mace at them! That’s not what we usually mean by ‘comfort’. Bishop Odo’s intervention was critical to the Norman victory. The English held the high ground and made good use of it repulsing successive charges by the Norman Calvary. On seeing the calvary retreating Bishop Odo sallied forth wielding his mace and whacking the retreating Normans who, being more frightened of their bishop than the English soldiers, turned again and made a successful attack. Think of the well known words in Psalm 23, “Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” A rod or staff are not soft gentle things, they are hard and strong. I am reminded of a Scottish shepherd who taught a bishop the proper uses of a shepherd’s crook. It is used to haul sheep out of ditches, to free them from being tangled in brambles. It is a weapon used to fight off predators. It is a staff to give support climbing steep hills. At the top of the hill it may be used to lean on and watch over the sheep. God’s comfort is about supporting us in the rugged places of life. Sometimes it is also about encouraging us to do an about face and get on with something difficult. February begins with Candlemas, or the Presentation of Christ in the Temple. It is a feast rich in meaning. We see a young mother bringing her first child with wonder and adoration. We meet Simeon and Anna, old people, perhaps thinking their days were over. Yet through their patient presence in the holy place they came to see God’s greatest promise fulfilled. We are never to old or frail to be part of God’s plan. Simeon’s words speak of who this child is, and hints at the pain Mary will endure at his death. Candlemas is our last look at the crib, our first glimpse of the cross. It is a turning point. Sometimes at turning points we need to be comforted. And then Lent, which starts early this year, Easter Sunday being on 31st March. Our Bibles tell us that after his baptism Jesus went into the wilderness. It is always worth being reminded that the word used to describe the action of the Holy Spirit is ‘ekballei’ from which we get our word ‘ballistic’. It means to hurl, to forcibly throw, this is the Spirit comforting Jesus. Sometimes what we need to do isn’t ‘comfortable’. If we sense an instinct to avoid the difficult bits of being a Christian, if the idea of Lent doesn’t appeal to us, if we’d rather stay at home rather than join a Lent group, maybe we need to be comforted. In the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Mr Beaver has to remind us that Aslan isn’t a tame lion. If you choose to be on his side it won’t always be safe. But you will be on the right side. Paul.
New year reflections….. As we begin a new year we wonder what it will hold for us. The past few years have been tough. As I write this the news is filled with images of war, the fighting between Israel and Gaza, the continuing conflict in Ukraine, and other acts of violence that don’t make the headlines very often. In our daily prayers we remember those suffering from natural disasters which are reported but then the news moves on. We may not hear or see of the long term hardship and suffering but we know it continues. As does, thank God, the work of agencies and individuals who work tirelessly behind the scenes doing what is needed to make life better. Also in the news is the enquiry into Covid with the inevitable wisdom of hindsight. One of the hard balancing acts was the need for lockdown against the inevitable harm and hardship such measures would cause. The daily news and briefings may be over but we witness the enduring trauma in mental health, missed education, social isolation and the devastating economic consequences. Cast your mind back to autumn 2023 and ask when you noticed the first Christmas decorations in people’s homes. Can you remember? For me it was 1st November, a house displaying both Halloween and Christmas lights. My inner Victor Meldrew rose to the occasion. In 2023 I saw more Christmas decorations earlier than ever before, I wonder if that is a sign of people needing some tangible glimpse of hope in a world which seems so desperately sad? New year is meant to be a time of resolutions. Of course, we usually take these fairly lightly. Our resolutions are often to lose a bit of weight, tidy that cupboard we’ve put off doing for so long, walk the dog more often, be nicer to that miserable neighbour, to recycle more. Or maybe just to keep on top of the vicarage hedge this year. To be resolute matters. To intentionally redirect our time, energy, money, makes a difference. To us. To others. To our world. One reason for sadness is the fact that bad news seems overwhelming. But what if we could see behind the news, to observe not just the fleeting headlines but also the tireless resilience of those who work to make life better? One of the joys of local community, and local church, are those hardy souls who quietly and patiently get on with doing things for others. They don’t make a fuss. They won’t receive a medal. And they’ll never be on the front page of the papers. But they make a difference. T S Elliot observed that humanity cannot bear too much reality. That goes two ways. It is true that we are diminished by continual encounters with suffering, brutality and oppression. But it is also true that we overlook great joy and hope which quietly, patiently, not always successfully, but nevertheless with resilience, seeks to make life better. Sometimes most of all we cannot see this reality within ourselves. I remember a radio interview way back in the 1990’s when Liverpool’s church leaders were asked what resolutions people might make at new year. Archbishop Derek Worlock spoke up. He said he wanted people to celebrate enduring commitment. The enduring commitment of others, and the enduring commitment within themselves. This, he suggested, gives us hope. Paul.