Today is the feast of The Presentation of Christ in the Temple, often known by the Church as Candlemas. The story of Christ being presented in the Temple can be found in Luke 2:22-40. In days of yore Christians used to bless a year’s supply of candles at Candlemas, which is, I guess, where the name comes from.

Candlemas marks the end of the Christmas season, and the beginning of the build-up to Good Friday and Easter. Many Churches will be dismantling their Christmas cribs in the next day or so, and storing the figures away for another year. I always feel a little sad to see the crib go; but it would soon lose its appeal if left up all year.

The phrase, “make your home among us”, I chose from today’s Collect, was chosen because of the hope it offers us. The hope for a better world. I’m sure the world would be a better place if everyone lived as though Jesus had made his home among us; especially if they also believed that he was God with us in human form. Now I know you and I probably believe those to be so, but there are millions around the world who don’t.

The hope is a world without war, … without crime, … without poverty, … without suffering: a world where peace and joy abound, … where the light of our Lord Jesus Christ reigns supreme: a world where we are made pure and holy.

An impossible dream? Maybe. Maybe if it were to ever happen we Christians would be too busy arguing the detail for the utopia to last. But there’s no harm in dreaming, in hoping, for that perfect world. Is there?

Lord Jesus Christ,
light of the nations and glory of Israel:
make your home among us,
and present us pure and holy
to your heavenly Father,
your God, and our God. Amen.

Additional Collect for The Presentation of Christ in the Temple
is Copyright © The Archbishops Council

A few weeks ago I posted a picture of some Easter Lilies for my Friday Foto. I was playing around with some of the effects in Picnik from within Flickr, and tried the HDR-ish filter, and was pleasantly surprised and pleased with the result. HDR is High Dynamic Range imaging; it enhances the dark and light tones in an image. Anyway, here’s the result (would love to know what you think), original image below:

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

I have always enjoyed sitting by water of any kind — rivers, lakes, gravel pits, or the sea — and probably don’t do it often enough nowadays. For me, it’s a great way to become aware of the presence of God, through the beauty of his created world. I very nearly took up fishing once, just for the excuse it would’ve given to sit by the water for hours at a time, absorbing the peace of God which passes all understanding.

But when the disciples met with Jesus by the lakeside after that first Easter (John 21:1-19), it would not have been the peaceful event I describe. Jesus was dead. Their dear friend and leader, the person they’d invested all their hopes in, was dead. They must’ve been completely devastated, and probably only went fishing because they just didn’t know what else to do.

They’d worked hard all night, but to no avail, and were heading back to shore. Nothing was going right for them, and I imagine they must have been extremely depressed. As they approached shore they saw a man standing watching them. As happened in many of the resurrection stories, they didn’t recognize him immediately. But this stranger 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 the reason, 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 have been an incredible welcome for those disciples, cold and wet as they were. I can imagine the turmoil their emotions were going through.

One of the things that grabs my attention in 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; freely given for the disciples to do with as they would, there were no pre-conditions, no strings attached, nothing — just a gift.

After they’d eaten their breakfast, after they’d been given the gift of a huge catch of fish, Jesus asked Peter, three times, if he loved him. And in doing so, renewed Peter’s calling, and through him the rest of the disciples’, and even 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, that vocation, 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.

Additional Collect for The Sixth 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

Today, the Fourth Sunday of Easter, is also known as Vocations Sunday in the Church of England. It’s a day when Churches up and down the land will be thinking about what God might be calling each of us to, our vocation. There will, I’m sure, be an emphasis on Church-based vocations. But we do need to remember that a vocation can be in anything, not just priesthood or other Church work. God can, and does, call people to do the most mundane and unexpected of tasks for him.

We often concern ourselves with the discernment process when thinking of vocation; trying to discern which of the various directions God is calling us to follow. But in our Collect today we have this phrase, “teach us to hear your voice”. And that’s the phrase I want to think about today. It’s all very well trying to discern which is the right way for us, which is the way that God is calling us to follow. But how do we hear that calling in the first place, how do we hear his voice?

There is no “one” way that God speaks to each one of us. We are, after all, each unique individuals, so he speaks to each of us individually. It could be anywhere, at any time. We hear God with our hearts more than with our ears.

It’s unlikely that we’ll hear God speak to us in a big booming voice from the sky. But God does, sometimes, speak audibly through priests, teachers, friends, and family members — sometimes even songs, events, and people we may not particularly like. He can, and does, communicate with us in any way he chooses; he is, after all, God.

Hearing the voice of God is as natural as an idea that comes into your mind. That is, in fact, frequently how he does speak to us. A thought occurs to you, it might be something you’ve never thought of before, and it leads you to some kind of action that either answers a prayer or helps someone else who’s in trouble. He speaks to us in the natural moments of life, and through the Bible and our prayer time.

The important thing is to listen. Listen to those thoughts that occur to you, wonder whether they might be from God, test them against what you know of the nature of God. Listen as you read the Bible, and think about what that passage might be saying to you personally. Listen when you’re praying, don’t feel that to pray you always have to be speaking — it’s a conversation with God, and a conversation involves listening as well as speaking.

And when you’ve heard the voice of God speaking to you, think about what you should do as a result, what changes you might need to make. God may be pointing you in a new direction, he might be confirming you in the way you’re already following. This is your vocation in life, your calling from God. And you just might be surprised by it.

Risen Christ,
faithful shepherd of your Father’s sheep:
teach us to hear your voice
and to follow your command,
that all your people may be gathered into one flock,
to the glory of God the Father.

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

This week’s Friday Foto is another one I took in Godmanchester Church recently. This one is of a small display of Easter Lilies on one of the window sills. I particularly liked the way the sun was shining through the petals of these beautiful flowers.

I have been listening to Casting Crowns on YouTube again. This video is their most recent one on there. It is, as all their music is, fantastic. And also very appropriate for this season of Easter. I hope you enjoy it too.

Following the resurrection of Jesus, the disciples were filled with boldness and fresh hope, and went on to found the early Church. Those tired and defeated men who had slipped away fearing for their lives following the crucifixion came back strengthened sufficiently to change history. I have to admit, I find that one of the more compelling arguments in favour of the resurrection as a “real” event in history. I don’t think those men could have done what they did without it.

And here we are, in this Collect for The Third Sunday of Easter, praying for that same strength; strength to proclaim the risen Christ to the world. Now, I don’t think for one minute that I’m going to change history, as the disciples did. But that shouldn’t stop me from trying to share my faith with others. After all, I’ve benefited so much from it, and so can others.

And, in light of the “Great Commission”, it’s difficult to avoid the responsibility to share our faith with others. The Great Commission is the instruction to his disciples by the resurrected Jesus Christ, that they spread his teachings to all the peoples of the world. Although a version of it appears in Luke, John and Acts, the version we’re probably most familiar with is to be found in the Gospel of Matthew (28:16-20). In Luke, Jesus tells the disciples to preach repentance and forgiveness, and promises that they will have divine power. In John, Jesus says the disciples will have the Holy Spirit and the authority to forgive sins and to withhold forgiveness. In Acts, Jesus promises the disciples that the Holy Spirit will inspire them. And in Matthew, Jesus directs the disciples to baptise people of all nations in the name of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the Trinitarian formula. It has become one of the major doctrines in Christian theology, emphasizing, as it does, missionary work, evangelism, and baptism.

So let us pray that we, too, will be filled with boldness and fresh hope; so that we’ll be strong enough to proclaim Christ’s risen life, and, yes, let’s pray, too, that we’ll be filled to overflowing with his peace, so that we can share that too.

Risen Christ,
you filled your disciples with boldness and fresh hope:
strengthen us to proclaim your risen life
and fill us with your peace,
to the glory of God the Father.

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

Today is The Second Sunday of Easter — Easter Day being the First Sunday of Easter. Our Collect for today has some words that I often use in my prayers — they’re words I use when I pray for help in discerning God’s will for my life.

“Open, or close, the doors of my heart” seem to be words that are often on my lips. I pray that God will open the doors, or make the way easier, if the choices I’m making are right: and close the doors, or make the way harder, if I’m making the wrong choices.

This way of praying does seem to have worked for me in the past. Whenever I’m struggling with deciding which of various options are the best for me, I’ll keep trying the doors, or exploring the choices, and trust that God will open or close them as he sees fit, to guide me into doing as he would want me to do.

It always amazes me how often, after struggling to work out the correct way to take, things just feel “right” when I’ve made the right choice — the doors open readily, the way is easier. The opposite is frequently true too; when I’ve made the wrong choice, things seem much more complicated — the doors become barriers and are closed, the way is harder.

I do believe that I will always have the ability, the free-will, to break through the barriers, the closed doors. But I’ve felt that if I have force things in that way, I’m usually going wrong, and the way I’m choosing isn’t the best for me.

Unfortunately I can no longer remember who it was that taught me this way of praying for guidance in the discernment process; my memory for those type of details is very poor. But I do remember that it was taught to me because it was a way that person found helpful, and hoped I would too. And that has been the case, I have found it very helpful. Next time you’re struggling to make a decision, and wondering just which way God wants you to go, you might like to try it for yourself. It worked for the person who taught me, it seems to work for me, and it just might work for you too.

Risen Christ,
for whom no door is locked, no entrance barred:
open the doors of our hearts,
that we may seek the good of others
and walk the joyful road of sacrifice and peace,
to the praise of God the Father.

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