Sermons And Gubbins

This sermon was written for our Zoom service on Sunday 5th July, the day after lockdown restrictions were eased in the UK, allowing visits to pubs, bars and restaurants for the first time in over three months. The Gospel was Matthew 11:16-19,25-30 . I’ve read and re-read today’s Gospel many times in the past few weeks. You have to when you’re called to preach on a passage, but, perhaps even more so than normal, this week, I’ve been stuck for what aspect of this passage on which to focus. I think it’s because it seems such a mish-mash. The more I read our Gospel today, the less I see how it all ties together. It reads more like a collection of sayings than a process of thought – and, even allowing for the fact that the gospel-writer may well have brought these separate sayings together to form one speech, it’s hard to see what point either Christ, or Matthew (as the writer) is trying to make, especially now 2000 years later. Let me start by paraphrasing the gospel: it star...

This sermon was given at our Trinity Sunday service on 7th June 2020, in the wake of the murder of George Floyd, and the blasphemy of Donald Trump using the police to gas peaceful protestors, helpers, and clergy in order to clear a way to stand outside a church and wave a bible in the air. Today is Trinity Sunday. I’m not going to spend this sermon digging into metaphors and similes for what the trinity is like. I’ve given those sermons before, and, if that’s what you’re after, you can find one from five years ago on my blog, or countless others elsewhere on the internet – many of them with good, sound theology (and some with not so much! – I’ll let you decide which into which camp you think my previous sermon falls). I think today, though, calls for something more than sound theology. The world in which we’re living today needs something practical , and not theoretical, and so, for that reason, I’m going to jump straight to the conclusion of what might be a ‘normal’ trinit...

There's something a little bit odd about our Gospel reading today. I wonder if you noticed it? Maybe not. After all, 'odd' these days is really rather a relative concept isn't it? A bit like time.  They say that time flies when you're having fun. I think we need a new saying for what time does when you're in lockdown. 'Time melds together in a conglomerate mess when you're staying home, staying safe, and saving lives'. Perhaps I need to work on the catchiness of that.  I remember reading a meme on facebook the other day that renamed the lockdown days of the week. No longer are we subject to the linear confines of Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and so on. Instead, until further notice, the days of the week are now called Thisday, Thatday, Otherday, Someday, Yesterday, Today and Nextday. I say I read it the other day, it might have been two months ago for all I know. I guess that proves the point. (Nextday, by the way, is the mythical day long...

This story was written in lieu of a sermon for our Zoom service on Sunday 26th April; the second Sunday after Easter. The gospel story was Luke 24:13-35 - The Road to Emmaus . In the story, only one of the disciples is named - Cleopas. In this reimagining of the tale, I have assumed the other to be his wife - the same woman mentioned who was present at Christ's crucifixion in John's gospel . I have tried to find parrallels between that initial time after Jesus' death, and the situation in which we all find ourselves today. I hope you enjoy reading it. A statue of St Mary Cleophas I t was a much nicer day than it should have been. You’d have thought given everything that had happened, the sky would be dark and the rain would be lashing down – you know, the kind of rain that stings you as you try to rush your way through it, trying your vainest best to make your way home before you are almost literally soaked to the bone, and your skin is red and cold from the ...