Kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth. These are the words that started this blog four years ago. They come from our Collect for this most wonderful of days, Christmas Day.

Heaven touches earth at the birth of the Christ-child, whenever we celebrate it, and however we celebrate it.

Heaven touches earth in dramatic ways. We see it in Isaiah’s vision of light, peace, and liberty to the world that has too long dwelt in darkness, turmoil and bondage (Isaiah 60.18-61.6). We see it in the angel choir, through which we glimpse the joy of heaven overspilling into human time and space (Luke 2.8-18). And we see it later later still, in the star that drew the magi from the East, when the very fabric of the universe proclaims ‘Christ is born’ (Matthew 2:1-6).

But heaven also touches earth in the humble, in the very human. Once the angels have gone, the shepherds are left with something considerably less majestic: a long night-time walk through the back-streets in search of a newborn baby lying in an animal feeding trough, along with a couple of very tired parents. Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6) – yes, maybe, but not only that. Also a child, weak, fragile, and dependent.

Heaven touches earth: in the grand and the majestic, and in the small and humble, they are all God’s grace breaking into the world.

Heaven touches earth when any one of us responds to God’s outstretched hand, and clasps it. Heaven touches earth when any one of us prays, ‘Be near me, Lord Jesus’. So let’s dare to clasp the hand of the tiny child in the manger, and allow him to pull us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

Lord Jesus Christ,
your birth at Bethlehem
draws us to kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth:
accept our heartfelt praise as we worship you,
our Saviour and our eternal God.

Additional Collect for Christmas Day
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

† † †

May the joy of the angels,
the eagerness of the shepherds,
the perseverance of the wise men,
the obedience of Joseph and Mary,
and the peace of the Christ-child
be ours this Christmas;
and may the blessing of God Almighty,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
be among us, and remain with us always.

A Christmas Blessing,
from Common Worship: Times and Seasons
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

This amazing world that we’re fortunate enough to live in is a truly wonderful place. The majority of us, though, sadly, not all, don’t have to look too far to see something of real beauty.

In England we can see places such as: the Lake District; the big skies in the Fens, where I live; many wonderful coastal areas; and numerous other spots, too many to mention.

It’s fair to say there are many more places in the rest of the world — haven’t been out of the UK myself, so haven’t seen them in the flesh so to speak — but the Grand Canyon; Uluru (Ayres Rock); and Niagara Falls; are a few places that spring to mind from what I’ve seen in magazines and on the TV, and there are many many more.

And I guess in one respect I’m pretty lucky. Because I also happen to find pleasure in looking at things that many people find unattractive. I like looking around many urban and industrial areas for instance — there’s something about the straight lines and angles that I find appealing, and even more so if they happen to be symmetrical too. And I do like to see the wind turbines — such as those pictured above at Scrobie Sands, Great Yarmouth — sprouting up in many of our land and seascapes.

I think, though, despite having the opportunity to live in this beautiful world, and even contributing to it in our small human way, we are still a long way from being in harmony with God’s will. We’re wrecking our planet. Environmental issues are becoming a huge concern, or at least they should be, for all of us — highlighted especially for many at the moment by the Gulf of Mexico Oil spill from the Deepwater Horizon disaster. For most of us the really big issues are overwhelming, and there feels little we can do personally. It really needs change at national governmental level. But let’s not forget the starfish story I posted in last Sunday’s post — all of the little bits that make a small difference we can do individually will add up to something meaningful.

Perhaps there is one thing in particular that all of us can try to do something about; and that’s our waste. We can all do something to reduce the amount we have to throw away; and to ensure that as much as possible of what we do throw away is recycled.

Then we’ll be beginning to move towards being in harmony with God’s will — at least in this one area. And, maybe starting in small ways, it will encourage us to become more involved in larger ways. We may even find that there is something we can contribute to the larger environmental issues that our planet is facing.

Gracious Father,
by the obedience of Jesus
you brought salvation to our wayward world:
draw us into harmony with your will,
that we may find all things restored in him,
our Saviour Jesus Christ.

Additional Collect for The Fourth Sunday after Trinity
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

When you look at the churches around about — certainly here in England, and much of Europe, not sure the same would be true for all of the world — it’s very often relatively easy to see something of the power they have enjoyed over the centuries. We have a magnificent legacy in the buildings that are our churches and cathedrals.

The picture above is of Ely Cathedral, our diocesan cathedral. It dominates the fenland skyline for miles around and is a truly wonderful building, both inside and out. Find out more about the cathedral by clicking this link: Ely Cathedral.

Buildings like these don’t spring up from weak Churches. No it needs power to build them. And, while the purpose of building such magnificent buildings is more about God than an overt display of power, power is, nevertheless, one image that is projected by them.

Our Churches aren’t so good at displaying their compassion however. Perhaps that’s because compassion isn’t so easy to picture in something physical. Sometimes you can’t help but wonder if it even exists when you look around at all of the arguing and disagreements between the Churches, both of the same denomination and different ones. It must give a poor image of God at times when you see some of the pettiness that causes untold misery to people everywhere.

But there is compassion in our Churches; both institutional and individual. At Godmanchester, I think, we’re very good with pastoral care. There’s a whole team of people who’s role it is to care for others in the congregation and the town: and a whole lot more people who do the same in an informal, and, too often, unrecognised way. With the other Churches in Godmanchester that is expanding all the time. We’re in exciting times; made more so because the care and compassion is about care and compassion, and not about bringing more people into Church.

And when you read Church websites and magazines, you can see the same kind of things happening all over. The compassion and care is there within our Churches, it’s just that it happens quietly, less visibly.

So, while I would want to pray that our Churches here on earth will be filled with power and compassion: I would also want to pray that they, particularly the compassion, could become more visible; so that more of those who need it can access it. It’s one sure way of sharing God’s love with those around us.

Risen, ascended Lord,
as we rejoice at your triumph,
fill your Church on earth with power and compassion,
that all who are estranged by sin
may find forgiveness and know your peace,
to the glory of God the father.

Additional Collect for The Seventh Sunday of Easter
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Today is the Fifth Sunday of Easter. In this week’s reflection on our Collect, I want us to think a little about what it meant for the human Jesus to willingly suffer the agonies of crucifixion — for us.

The crucifixion of Jesus was a truly horrific event. You don’t have to look too hard on the internet to find a graphic description of what happens to the human body in a crucifixion: there are many websites that will happily serve that up for you, and take great delight in doing so, no matter how it might make you feel. As far as I can see, though, most of what’s available appears to be condensed from “The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ” by C. Truman Davis, M.S. March, 1965.

One such page can be found on the ethoughts website. It has what it claims to be a medical description of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, which has a warning at the top, “This may disturb you, so don’t read it if you don’t want to; it’s pretty horrific…”. If, after reading that warning, you still want to read the page, you can find it by clicking here.

But it’s the reality of what crucifixion is that actually makes the whole event even more remarkable. Jesus would have known all about the horrors of crucifixion. It was something the Romans had been doing all too frequently for a number of years, and others had used it as a punishment before them too. Jesus and his disciples would have seen many people hanging from crosses as they journeyed around the Holy Land. He would have known the agonies and horrors the victims of crucifixion suffered. He would have seen it with his own eyes, and heard it with his own ears — and smelled it with his own nose. In that land, at that time, it would have been unavoidable.

Even so, knowing what he would face, Jesus still went to Jerusalem, where he would put himself in the most danger. He could have gone anywhere. Jesus could have avoided what was to happen. But he didn’t. He willingly gave himself up knowing full well what doing so would mean.

Why? Why would any man do that? The answer is “Love”. Love for the world; Love for those around him; and Love for each and every one of us. He opened wide his arms on the cross for us, because he loves us. His wounds, what he suffered on the cross, are proof of that love for the world — his wounds declare his love for the world.

Jesus loves each and every one of us so much, that he was willing to die an agonizing death on the cross for us. He once said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends…” (John 15:13-14a).

We are his friends, and he laid down his life for us; because he loves us.

Risen Christ,
your wounds declare your love for the world
and the wonder of your risen life:
give us compassion and courage
to risk ourselves for those we serve,
to the glory of God the Father.

Additional Collect for The Fifth Sunday of Easter
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth. These are the words that started this blog three years ago. They come from our Collect for this most wonderful of days, Christmas Day.

Heaven touches earth at the birth of the Christ-child, whenever we celebrate it, and however we celebrate it.

Heaven touches earth in dramatic ways. We see it in Isaiah’s vision of light, peace, and liberty to the world that has too long dwelt in darkness, turmoil and bondage (Isaiah 60.18-61.6). We see it in the angel choir, through which we glimpse the joy of heaven overspilling into human time and space (Luke 2.8-18). And we see it later later still, in the star that drew the magi from the East, when the very fabric of the universe proclaims ‘Christ is born’ (Matthew 2:1-6).

But heaven also touches earth in the humble, in the very human. Once the angels have gone, the shepherds are left with something considerably less majestic: a long night-time walk through the back-streets in search of a newborn baby lying in an animal feeding trough, along with a couple of very tired parents. Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6) – yes, maybe, but not only that. Also a child, weak, fragile, and dependent.

Heaven touches earth: in the grand and the majestic, and in the small and humble, they are all God’s grace breaking into the world.

Heaven touches earth when any one of us responds to God’s outstretched hand, and clasps it. Heaven touches earth when any one of us prays, ‘Be near me, Lord Jesus’. So let’s dare to clasp the hand of the tiny child in the manger, and allow him to pull us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

Lord Jesus Christ,
your birth at Bethlehem
draws us to kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth:
accept our heartfelt praise as we worship you,
our Saviour and our eternal God.

Additional Collect for Christmas Day
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

† † †

May the joy of the angels,
the eagerness of the shepherds,
the perseverance of the wise men,
the obedience of Joseph and Mary,
and the peace of the Christ-child
be ours this Christmas;
and may the blessing of God Almighty,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
be among us, and remain with us always.

A Christmas Blessing,
from Common Worship: Times and Seasons
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

This amazing world that we’re fortunate enough to live in is a truly wonderful place. The majority of us, though, sadly, not all, don’t have to look too far to see something of real beauty.

In England we can see places such as: the Lake District; the big skies in the Fens, where I live; many wonderful coastal areas; and numerous other spots, too many to mention.

It’s fair to say there are many more places in the rest of the world — haven’t been out of the UK myself, so haven’t seen them in the flesh so to speak — but the Grand Canyon; Uluru (Ayres Rock); and Niagara Falls; are a few places that spring to mind from what I’ve seen in magazines and on the TV, and there are many many more.

And I guess in one respect I’m pretty lucky. Because I also happen to find pleasure in looking at things that many people find unattractive. I like looking around many urban and industrial areas for instance — there’s something about the straight lines and angles that I find appealing, and even more so if they happen to be symmetrical too. And I do like to see the wind turbines — such as those pictured above at Scrobie Sands, Great Yarmouth — sprouting up in many of our land and seascapes.

I think, though, despite having the opportunity to live in this beautiful world, and even contributing to it in our small human way, we are still a long way from being in harmony with God’s will. We’re wrecking our planet. Environmental issues are becoming a huge concern, or at least they should be, for all of us — highlighted especially for many at the moment by the Gulf of Mexico Oil spill from the Deepwater Horizon disaster. For most of us the really big issues are overwhelming, and there feels little we can do personally. It really needs change at national governmental level. But let’s not forget the starfish story I posted in last Sunday’s post — all of the little bits that make a small difference we can do individually will add up to something meaningful.

Perhaps there is one thing in particular that all of us can try to do something about; and that’s our waste. We can all do something to reduce the amount we have to throw away; and to ensure that as much as possible of what we do throw away is recycled.

Then we’ll be beginning to move towards being in harmony with God’s will — at least in this one area. And, maybe starting in small ways, it will encourage us to become more involved in larger ways. We may even find that there is something we can contribute to the larger environmental issues that our planet is facing.

Gracious Father,
by the obedience of Jesus
you brought salvation to our wayward world:
draw us into harmony with your will,
that we may find all things restored in him,
our Saviour Jesus Christ.

Additional Collect for The Fourth Sunday after Trinity
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

When you look at the churches around about — certainly here in England, and much of Europe, not sure the same would be true for all of the world — it’s very often relatively easy to see something of the power they have enjoyed over the centuries. We have a magnificent legacy in the buildings that are our churches and cathedrals.

The picture above is of Ely Cathedral, our diocesan cathedral. It dominates the fenland skyline for miles around and is a truly wonderful building, both inside and out. Find out more about the cathedral by clicking this link: Ely Cathedral.

Buildings like these don’t spring up from weak Churches. No it needs power to build them. And, while the purpose of building such magnificent buildings is more about God than an overt display of power, power is, nevertheless, one image that is projected by them.

Our Churches aren’t so good at displaying their compassion however. Perhaps that’s because compassion isn’t so easy to picture in something physical. Sometimes you can’t help but wonder if it even exists when you look around at all of the arguing and disagreements between the Churches, both of the same denomination and different ones. It must give a poor image of God at times when you see some of the pettiness that causes untold misery to people everywhere.

But there is compassion in our Churches; both institutional and individual. At Godmanchester, I think, we’re very good with pastoral care. There’s a whole team of people who’s role it is to care for others in the congregation and the town: and a whole lot more people who do the same in an informal, and, too often, unrecognised way. With the other Churches in Godmanchester that is expanding all the time. We’re in exciting times; made more so because the care and compassion is about care and compassion, and not about bringing more people into Church.

And when you read Church websites and magazines, you can see the same kind of things happening all over. The compassion and care is there within our Churches, it’s just that it happens quietly, less visibly.

So, while I would want to pray that our Churches here on earth will be filled with power and compassion: I would also want to pray that they, particularly the compassion, could become more visible; so that more of those who need it can access it. It’s one sure way of sharing God’s love with those around us.

Risen, ascended Lord,
as we rejoice at your triumph,
fill your Church on earth with power and compassion,
that all who are estranged by sin
may find forgiveness and know your peace,
to the glory of God the father.

Additional Collect for The Seventh Sunday of Easter
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

Today is the Fifth Sunday of Easter. In this week’s reflection on our Collect, I want us to think a little about what it meant for the human Jesus to willingly suffer the agonies of crucifixion — for us.

The crucifixion of Jesus was a truly horrific event. You don’t have to look too hard on the internet to find a graphic description of what happens to the human body in a crucifixion: there are many websites that will happily serve that up for you, and take great delight in doing so, no matter how it might make you feel. As far as I can see, though, most of what’s available appears to be condensed from “The Crucifixion of Jesus Christ” by C. Truman Davis, M.S. March, 1965.

One such page can be found on the ethoughts website. It has what it claims to be a medical description of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, which has a warning at the top, “This may disturb you, so don’t read it if you don’t want to; it’s pretty horrific…”. If, after reading that warning, you still want to read the page, you can find it by clicking here.

But it’s the reality of what crucifixion is that actually makes the whole event even more remarkable. Jesus would have known all about the horrors of crucifixion. It was something the Romans had been doing all too frequently for a number of years, and others had used it as a punishment before them too. Jesus and his disciples would have seen many people hanging from crosses as they journeyed around the Holy Land. He would have known the agonies and horrors the victims of crucifixion suffered. He would have seen it with his own eyes, and heard it with his own ears — and smelled it with his own nose. In that land, at that time, it would have been unavoidable.

Even so, knowing what he would face, Jesus still went to Jerusalem, where he would put himself in the most danger. He could have gone anywhere. Jesus could have avoided what was to happen. But he didn’t. He willingly gave himself up knowing full well what doing so would mean.

Why? Why would any man do that? The answer is “Love”. Love for the world; Love for those around him; and Love for each and every one of us. He opened wide his arms on the cross for us, because he loves us. His wounds, what he suffered on the cross, are proof of that love for the world — his wounds declare his love for the world.

Jesus loves each and every one of us so much, that he was willing to die an agonizing death on the cross for us. He once said, “No one has greater love than this, to lay down one’s life for one’s friends. You are my friends…” (John 15:13-14a).

We are his friends, and he laid down his life for us; because he loves us.

Risen Christ,
your wounds declare your love for the world
and the wonder of your risen life:
give us compassion and courage
to risk ourselves for those we serve,
to the glory of God the Father.

Additional Collect for The Fifth Sunday of Easter
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

This is a truly amazing info-graphic animation. It reveals the scale of the known universe in relation to our home planet. Astrophysicists at the American Museum of Natural History have mapped and constantly update and maintain the Digital Universe Atlas, a four-dimensional map of the cosmos, created using the latest scientific data. Based on this map, the film takes the viewer on a mesmerizing voyage from the Himalayas to the furthest reaches of known space and time, with every galaxy, star, planet, moon and satellite accurately scaled and positioned according to current knowledge.

Kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth. Heaven touches earth at the birth of the Christ-child, whenever we celebrate it, and however we celebrate it.

Heaven touches earth in dramatic ways. We see it in Isaiah’s vision of light, peace, and liberty to the world that has too long dwelt in darkness, turmoil and bondage (Isaiah 60.18-61.6). We see it in the angel choir, through which we glimpse the joy of heaven overspilling into human time and space (Luke 2.8-18). And we see it later later still, in the star that drew the magi from the East, when the very fabric of the universe proclaims ‘Christ is born’ (Matthew 2:1-6).

But heaven also touches earth in the humble, in the very human. Once the angels have gone, the shepherds are left with something considerably less majestic: a long night-time walk through the back-streets in search of a newborn baby lying in an animal feeding trough, along with a couple of very tired parents. Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6) – yes, maybe, but not only that. Also a child, weak, fragile, and dependent.

Heaven touches earth: in the grand and the majestic, and in the small and humble, they are all God’s grace breaking into the world.

Heaven touches earth when any one of us responds to God’s outstretched hand, and clasps it. Heaven touches earth when any one of us prays, ‘Be near me, Lord Jesus’. So let’s dare to clasp the hand of the tiny child in the manger, and allow him to pull us out of darkness into his marvellous light.

Lord Jesus Christ,
your birth at Bethlehem
draws us to kneel in wonder at heaven touching earth:
accept our heartfelt praise as we worship you,
our Saviour and our eternal God.

Additional Collect for Christmas Day
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

† † †

May the joy of the angels,
the eagerness of the shepherds,
the perseverance of the wise men,
the obedience of Joseph and Mary,
and the peace of the Christ-child
be ours this Christmas;
and may the blessing of God Almighty,
the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit,
be among us, and remain with us always.

A Christmas Blessing,
from Common Worship: Times and Seasons
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council