Fill your Church on earth with power and compassion

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. Much the same can be said of the church I attend at Godmanchester, pictured left: it’s always a welcome site, from many miles away, on a journey home. Again, more information can be found on the church website: Godmanchester Church.

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. Amen.

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

By the lakeside you renewed your call to your disciples

When I used to be somewhat fitter, a while ago now, I enjoyed walking. One of the places really liked going to was some flooded gravel pits near where I lived. I would find somewhere to sit and soak up the sunshine. And I would watch the water-birds going about their day. I couldn’t tell you what kind of birds they were, just that they were feathered creatures that lived in, or near, water.

I enjoy sitting by water of any kind, rivers, lakes, gravel pits, or the sea. For me, it’s a great way to become aware of the presence of God, through the beauty of his created world. I nearly took up fishing, just so I would have an excuse to sit by the water for hours at a time, absorbing the peace of God which passes all understanding.

But that isn’t how it would’ve been for the disciples when they met with Jesus by the lakeside after that first Easter (John 21:1-19). Jesus, their dear friend and leader, the person they had invested all their hopes in, was dead. They would’ve been devastated, and probably went fishing because they didn’t know what else to do.

They were heading back to shore after a fruitless night’s work, when they saw a man standing watching them. As in so many of the resurrection stories, they didn’t recognize him straight away. He encouraged them to do something a little differently, shift their position so to speak. Perhaps they thought he could see something from his vantage point that they couldn’t. But, whatever, they followed his advice, and caught a huge net-full of fish. It was then that they realized who it was on the beach.

And when they finally hauled their catch to shore, Jesus welcomed them with a warm fire and breakfast cooking. That must’ve been quite a welcome for those disciples, cold and wet as they were.

One of the things that I find amazing about this story is that Jesus didn’t really mention the huge catch of fish. Apart from a few fish to add to what was cooking on the fire for them all to eat, nothing is said about them. They were a gift, for the disciples to do with as they would — no pre-conditions, no strings, nothing.

After breakfast, after they’d been given the gift of a huge catch of fish, and after they’d eaten together, Jesus asked Peter, three times, if he loved him. And renewed Peter’s calling, and through him the rest of the disciples’, and our calling too. Theirs, and our, calling to love and care for our fellow human beings.

Maybe when we truly recognize, and act on, that calling, we might be able to bring others to warm themselves in the fire of Jesus’ love.

Risen Christ,
by the lakeside you renewed your call to your disciples:
help your Church to obey your command
and draw the nations to the fire of your love,
to the glory of God the Father. Amen.

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