Beyond Reith's vision

 Bible Sunday, 23rd October: Isaiah 45: 22-25, Romans 15:1-6, Luke 6:16-24

This month marks the BBC’s centenary: their first director General, Lord Reith, famously said that the BBC was ‘to inform, educate and entertain’.

That’s still the corporation’s stated mission. In a 2 minute ad celebrating 100 years, the Beeb’s described as an unique experiment - no corporate sponsors - a bridge, a common ground, a reflection on who we are; something that  only exists if we really believe it matters, and which belongs to all of us.

We probably each have our favourite: from The Archers to Eastenders, Newsnight to  Strictly, HIGNFY to Songs of Praise; from the Proms to Top of the Pops, Blue Peter to Life on Earth, Panorama to Dr Who; the World Service to local radio and the Shipping Forecast; from CBeebies to Sounds and iPlayer.

However impressive the visuals and graphics, the sheer diversity of how the BBC has sought to inform, educate and entertain highlights the importance of the spoken word - in drama, news, comedy, documentary, and even praise. Those words reflect what’s going on in the world, conveys meaning and may even change lives. 

Today is Bible Sunday: a day when we give thanks for the Scriptures - for those who’ve translated them and helped us to learn from them in commentary and teaching.  Yet it’s more than that. It is a reminder of the way God speaks.

The Bible is made up of hundreds and thousands of words - of human beings trying to make sense of the world and ourselves, seeking after meaning and purpose; and hundreds and thousands of words of God reaching out to us, seeking to reveal something of Godself and God’s ways of love - and guiding us as we walk in them. Ultimately, those words point us to the Word made flesh in Jesus. 

As a prophet, Isaiah used words to encourage others to turn back to God. Prophets educated and informed - telling as it is; speaking truth and justice; naming the consequences of human action - what builds up or destroys, what raises up or marginalises.  Today we hear Isaiah speaking words of righteousness and strength - following a time of captivity, freedom is breaking in. Babylon may have been defeated by the human agency of other rulers, but to inhabit that gift, to rebuild their life together, God’s people were called back to God. There is no other. 

Image: Mike Moyer

In today’s Gospel, we hear of that moment when Jesus returns to that place where he’d been brought up and nurtured; and, in the familiar rhythm of attending synagogue, he stands and takes up the scroll of Isaiah. He reads those familiar words - words of good news and freedom, recovery, favour and release.

Eyes remained fixed on him as he sat down. In that moment of ordinary worship and observance, the words point to the Word: anointing, fulfilment and goodness.  Then there is amazement - perhaps a desire to celebrate the local lad made good; high expectations of him or the hope that they could hold on to him. 

Yet, this isn’t about change just in his own community - but a vision of radical inclusion which enfolds the whole world.   This goes beyond merely informing and educating; it is more than entertainment. This is about teaching that makes whole; words that proclaim the habits of justice and hope of sustained transformation through mercy and compassion. 

Interestingly there is only one  prisoner to be set free in direct connection to the words of Jesus, or by his presence as God’s Word of love made flesh. That person was Barabas. The one who was released from prison as Jesus was bound, held captive and mocked before he walked the way to the cross. There, in the weight of that isolation and suffering and death, God’s Word has the last word: a love brings new life even from the grave. 

This fulfilment of God’s word was not just for the life of the church but the whole world. Yet today, as we gather as is our custom, we are reminded of what is at the heart of our life together. God’s words remain a source of encouragement, learning and hope; God’s Word made flesh, broken and poured out in bread and wine, remaining a gift to sustain us. 

Paul, when writing to the church in Rome, is aware of the ways in which they are divided - disagreeing over whether to eat meat offered to idols or to refrain; disagreeing over other pressure points in their life together - strong and weak. And yet, God is at work in them - and in us. God desires that we unite around a  common purpose.  

Here in Hendon we are continuing to tease out that common purpose - what does that look like in response to those seeking company, friendship and warmth; what does it look like in music and creativity; what does that look like for our young people, families and teachers; what does that mean in the partnerships we form?

Rather than focusing on our differences, we are invited to extend a vision of encouragement, justice, and a love that strengthens and builds up.  All of that flows from and flows into our worship - giving glory to God. 

Bible Sunday isn’t just about reading more of it more often: but seeing where God is at work in church, world, community and creation.  In a way, we are all broadcasters. Going beyond a Reithian vision to inform, educate and entertain 

Our words can transmit love and  beauty, our actions share justice and  joy. We share God’s promises that are fulfilled in Jesus Christ in the building up of our neighbours: the church isn’t just an  unique experiment - with no corporate sponsors. It in some ways offers a common ground - in all our diversity and disagreement; it is a bridge between the world as it is and how God longs for it to be. 

The Bible too reflects who we are and who we’re becoming. The church as Christ’s body doesn’t exist because we believe it matters - but because we believe in something that matters, we’re called into a life which belongs to all of us.  

We are called to proclaim the year of God’s favour - that season of jubilee when debts are erased, land restored, justice enacted and inequality reduced. In the power of the Spirit we are to witness to the love of God revealed in Christ Jesus. The one who is the Word made flesh. 

Loved

A sermon preached at the Eucharist on Bible Sunday 27 October: The texts were: Isaiah 45:22-end, Romans 15: 1-6, Luke 4:16-24

World Book Day

Each March, school children up and down the country dress up as their favourite fictional for world book day: parental creativity and resourcefulness means that Facebook and classrooms are full of recognisable Harry Potters and Matildas; Snow Whites and Peter Pans.

The delight of stories never really leaves us: whether it’s the latest John le Carré or the high

drama of Eastenders; the comfort of a familiar classic or the long awaited film.

We read to be entertained and challenged; to explore emotions and understand relationships. We inhabit other worlds; navigating the lives of others, from youth to older age.

Beyond the realm of fiction, there books which we delight in or inspire us with determination; there are books which speak to our distress and others which help us follow our desires.

Numerically speaking, the Bible is the world’s number one best seller. Like many of our own favourites, it’s full of dramatic stories and vivid characters. In its pages we find beautiful poetry, inspiring visions and profound wisdom. 

It’s been translated and learnt by heart over hundreds of generations, by men and women trying to make sense of life and of God. It’s been studied and interpreted in contexts very different from our own, by radicals and conservatives seeking after what is true.

This epic narrative begins in a garden and ends with a city. Our lives are enfolded by its words.

On Bible Sunday, we are invited to read, mark, learn and inwardly digest those words. For it is  not merely another piece of literature. It’s an invitation into the presence of the one who is life and love; it expresses the language of the heart.

They continue to address us - with a cry, a whisper, a song, a breath:

you

are

loved.  

They declare that ‘God loves us’. 

They inspire us to ‘love one another’.

Prophets, poets, historians, letter writers, psalmists, evangelists: all of them address our questions and struggles. They name our deepest longings and our misdirected desires. 

There is familiarity and strangeness in these texts: hundreds of stories about human beings trying to make sense of the world as we reach out to each other and to God; stories of our hurts and failures, desires and relationships.

There is familiarity and strangeness in these texts: hundreds of stories of God reaching out to us when we dare to dream, when we cry in distress; stories revealing something of Godself to us in healing and justice, truth and beauty.

In the books of the Bible, God breathes 100s and 1000s of times:

You.

Are.

Loved.

In our first reading, we hear this assurance.

This love is God. This God is love.

Faithful: waiting for us to return to our first love.

Faithful: reaching to the ends of the earth.

Faithful: teaching us to walk in ways of justice, humility and mercy.

There is no other source of life and strength. 

You are loved.

Love one another.

In our second reading, we hear a snippet of a letter written to those seeking to walk this way of love in community; a letter written by one whose life had been transformed by love which dazzled with challenge and forgiveness and calling and faithfulness.

Paul writes to the Romans naming the distress being caused by the strong dismissing or taking advantage of the weak.There is sorrow and anguish and fragmentation when we please ourselves. It neither honours God nor our neighbour.

Paul writes to the Romans naming the delight that comes from knowing Jesus as God with us; the one who came not to be served but to serve; who reveals the depth of love divine in human flesh.

Paul writes to the Romans naming the desire to know and keep God’s commandments: seeking to build up our neighbours and to live in harmony with one another; glorifying God with one voice in worship and glorifying God in our deals with weak and strong.

Paul writes to the Romans naming the determination to love - not by human strength alone, but through the power of the Spirit at work in us and in the encouragement we find in scripture. The steadfast rhyme of love shapes our hope.

Delight in God.

Name your distress.

Desire God’s ways.

Be determined.

Love.

Such love isn’t an abstract concept.  It is something we grow into and make our own. Love is to be our appearance;  and what we see in others. 

Such love isn’t an abstract concept; it’s not a matter of words, but of the Word made flesh.

The one who was  conceived by the Spirit has baptised with the Spirit. Now that same Spirit leads him in the wilderness. The Spirit fills Jesus and the Spirit guides him. 

Before Jesus began his public ministry or arrived in his home down, he had spent time the desert, committing  himself to loving the world. Tempted as we are, yet without that fracturing of relationship, or selfish desire, we call sin.   In the weakness of our flesh, God loves in a way that it so real it hurts; so real it saves. 

Here in the human frailty of hunger and fatigue, Jesus faces the relentless psychological nagging of ‘if’.

If you are the Son of God do x or y.

Yet through the lens of those ‘ifs’ we see the power of love.

Temptation of Christ

The love of God with us.

Satisfy your hunger: no, says Jesus, for we are sustained not by bread alone. I won’t love the world simply by gratifying physical desires but by going to heart of our needs and hopes.

Accept earthly power: no, says Jesus, seizing glory and authority in that way is not God's way of loving.  Love that coerces and dominates a response isn't real.   Attention to God in worship is the beginning of love; serving others by attending to their needs, that's real love. 

Perform a stunt: no, says Jesus, I won't take a short cut. I won't put God to the test in that way. Such love is superficial and fleeting: it doesn't forgive or heal; it doesn't challenge or embrace.

Three times, Jesus chose to serve God. He reveals a love that is our ultimate reality. A love that overcomes pain, sorrow and death itself. 

When Jesus went to his home town, he went to synagogue as we might expect.  He stood up to read. He began to teach; to speak of the fulfilment of scripture in and through him.

Jesus reading 

What had the gathered community expected? An endorsement of their way of life or their values; a shared interpretation of the law?  Might he have something to say about the threat posed by the occupying Roman forces? May be they wanted to bask in the fame of a local lad ‘made good’. When Scripture is read, do they - do we - expect a light to shine in the dark corners of our minds?

Jesus announces his ministry: proclaiming justice, advocating for commission, declaring liberty. Familiar words are heard afresh; salvation and hope are made real.

Words of scripture are fulfilled by God’s Word in our midst.

In this Eucharist we read, mark and learn the words of Scripture which unfold the story of God’s love for us. Here we practice love in community.  We received forgiveness and share peace.  We inwardly digest God’s Word in bread and wine, receiving what we are; becoming Christ’s body in and for the world.

You.

Are.

Loved.

Here we name the cries of our heart - cries of distress and desire. Here we delight in God faithful love and here pray that our determination to seek God’s Kingdom be renewed.

In the power of the Spirit we are sent out in peace to love and serve; bringing hope as we witness to the love of God revealed in Jesus Christ.

Love.

As you.

Are loved.

© Julie Gittoes 2019

You. Are. Loved

Today we marked Bible Sunday at our Cathedral Eucharist. In preparing to preach - commentary in one hand, an interview with Russell Brand in the other - I pondered what is 'different' about preaching on this Sunday compared to any other. Aren't we always engaging with and preaching on Scripture, in attentiveness to the reality of our life in the world? I have a similar niggle on Trinity Sunday - why do preachers panic then, when surely we are called to explore the mystery of God as Trinity every time we step into the pulpit? Anyway, I guess in part a way of focusing on the particular so that we don't become complacent - taking Scripture for granted or neglecting its enduring impact as we read, mark learn and inwardly digest. 

At one point I thought I'd begin by reflecting on the crowds which filed past on of the only surviving copies of the Tyndale Bible in St Paul's; I was so struck by the risk and cost of translation; of God's word being read and heard in the vernacular. In the end, I was struck by the sense of uncertainty and crisis - named by Russell Brand - and the way it is met with Jesus' words of assurance. Brand is someone I find endlessly fascinating as he both names the frailty of our human nature and also seeks after something 'true'. Is he challenging us to have more confidence in the Bible in naming both vice and virtue - keeping the rumour of grace alive?  The texts were: Nehemiah 8:1-12; Colossians 3:12-17; Matthew 24:30-35

Russell Brand isn’t a conventional comedian; he’s controversial, certainly. 

He self-identifies as ‘a trickster, a joker, a playful person’; someone ‘on the edge of the community’. He’s someone extremely compulsive, drawn to fame like a moth to light. Having struggled with addictions he has found stability by following a 12-step recovery programme. 

Russell Brand: Desert Island Discs

‘Society is collapsing’, he says, ‘and people are starting to recognise that the reason they feel like they're mentally ill is that they're living in a system that's not designed to suit the human spirit’.

‘Society is collapsing’: perhaps that thought flashed through Nehemiah’s mind in exile as he grieves over the situation in Jerusalem.

Perhaps it was a concern for Paul as he wrote from his prison cell about the threat of false teaching and practices. 

Did that prospect run through the disciples’ minds as Jesus spoke to the Temple’s destruction and things passing away?

On Bible Sunday, we remember that our scriptures have always spoken into times of dissatisfaction and fear; when it seems as if familiar social order is fragmenting and the future uncertain, God’s word remains.  

The Tyndale Bible

The Bible continues to speak of the freedom, forgiveness and delight to be found in God’s love for us; of the promise of all things being made new; of a Kingdom of justice and mercy which does indeed suit the human spirit. 

Prophets, poets, historians, letter writers, psalmists, evangelists: all of them address our questions and struggles. They name our deepest longings and our misdirected desires. 

They continue to whisper:

you

are

loved.  

They declare that ‘God loves us’. 

They inspire us to ‘love one another’.

Today we hear how Nehemiah invited people to hear that law of love afresh. He was practical and a well-organised leader; someone of spiritual depth. He was rooted in prayer; stood firm against intimidation; sought justice for slaves. Having overseen the rebuilding of Jerusalem, he knew the returning exiles needed to be spiritually ‘rebuilt’.

As we rejoice in a restored cathedral we, like them, are invited to pay deep attention to God’s word, distilled into the commandment to love God with all that we are and to love our neighbour as ourself.

These words set us free: sometimes we will weep when we confront our failures. But now as then we are encouraged to rejoice in the strength of God’s grace and to care for those who are in need.  The words of scripture are taken to heart; they shape the life of the community.  To hear God’s word of love was a cause for celebration and feasting.

Ezra reads the law to the people

Gustave Dore illustration of La Grande Bible de Tours

Today’s Gospel sounds like a dramatic shift in tone: there’s a sense of urgency and foreboding in Jesus’ words. He had been speaking of the dangers of false teachers and the threat of persecution; even the Temple at the heart of the city would be destroyed.  It isn’t hard for us to imagine such cosmic collapse. 

Every time we open a newspaper, watch Question Time or scroll through our Twitter feed, we are aware of situations of political volatility and tension. We see images of destruction and ruin as a result of war or environmental degradation.  We read of the concern around student mental health; we’re shocked when politicians make jokes about sexual assault. 

The sorrow stirred up by our fragile world can’t be measured in words.

And yet… and yet… Scripture reminds us that God’s word of judgement confronts us in the midst of crisis and collapse.

Jesus says: the old order will come to an end; a new thing will emerge.

Amidst dire events, we see signs of God’s Kingdom.  Jesus invites us to look at the world through a horticultural lens: first the bud, then green shoots; leaves unfurling on a tree destined to fruit.

When we worry that society is collapsing, we are called back to God’s word. Our scriptures name not only our human propensity to get things wrong; but they also name the persistent melody of God’s healing love. The words of the Bible point us to God’s Word made flesh; God is with us in Christ Jesus. His life expresses the fullness of love. His death destroys death; his risen life brings life to others. 

We live with merging horizons:  knowing that in Christ something decisive has happened, yet watching the whole creation groan with longing for the liberty of God’s Kingdom. Jesus doesn’t give us dates and details. Instead he invites us to have confidence in his words of life and love. We are to pay deep attention to where we see glimpses of God’s activity - and we are to build God’s Kingdom through our own acts of care; to seek it in our pursuit of justice. 

Society is collapsing, say Brand as he names our vices, anxieties and addictions; our experience of loneliness, disappointment or exploitation; our attempts to make ourselves feel better. He says  ‘the secularisation, the materialisation, the individualisation of the way we see the world now excludes us from a life that has meaning. And I don’t think pop culture can fill that gap any more.’ He continues, ‘people need to be able to connect with something that is essential and beautiful and valuable and true’.

Is Russell Brand unwittingly calling us back to the truth expressed in the Bible? 

Our book of books contains100s of stories of human beings grappling with hurt, fragmentation and failure; what Brand calls vice, we call sin. Scripture contains100s of stories of humanity reaching out to God; what he calls a higher power. The Bible is 100s of stories of God revealing Godself to us; what Brand calls beautiful, valuable and true.

In Scripture God breathes 100s of times: 

You.

Are. 

Loved.

Such love isn’t an abstract concept.  It is something with which we are to cloth ourselves. Something we grow into and make our own. Love is to be our appearance;  and what we see in others. 

Brand is right to name our bad moral habits, our ‘vices’. In Colossians, Paul names good moral habits, or ‘virtues’. As we put on love we cloth ourselves in these Christ-like character traits. We increase our capacity to do what is good and true: acting with compassion and kindness, practicing patience, expressing gratitude, learning to forgive. 

In You are what you love, James K A Smith reminds us that we can’t think our way into this pattern of life. We truly learn God’s commandments to love by adopting practices of imitation.  Our love is learnt in worship - it’s a process of ‘reformation' not simply ‘acquiring information'. He writes, ‘the orientation of the heart happens from the bottom up, through the  formation of our habits of desire. Learning to love (God) takes practice’.

In this Eucharist we are clothed anew. We read, mark and learn the words of Scripture which unfold the story of God’s love for us. Here we practice love in community.  We received forgiveness and share peace.  We inwardly digest God’s Word in bread and wine, receiving what we are; becoming Christ’s body in and for the world.

When we worry that society is collapsing, here our vision of God’s Kingdom is renewed. And in the power of the Spirit we are sent out in peace to love and serve. May we see green shoots appearing; may we be to others hopeful signs of new life.

© Julie Gittoes

The Booker and the Book

It was a delight to preach at the Evening Service at Royal Holloway (University of London) last night.  Their Co-ordinating Chaplain, Cate Irvine, is exploring signs and symbols this term - and in anticipation of Bible Sunday, I was speaking on 'The Book'. 

I loved English Lit at A-level - and despite not being a very good linguist, studied French and German for the sake of the literature. My love of books started somewhat earlier. I loved stories from Mr Men and Fairy Tales to reading Black Beauty, Watership Down and Tarka the Otter (although my primary schools didn't believe me!). I loved Ann of Green Gables and remember reading Jane Eyre with my mum (out loud, a chapter each; discovering the meaning of words like 'ubiquitous'). 

I discovered D H Lawrence as a 6th former; and Tolstoy during my PhD. Fiction continues to offer the kind of escape which draws us more deeply into what it is to be human. Thinking about the value of books - and the celebration of The Man Booker Prize - made me think afresh about our imaginative engagement with Scripture - revealing the depths of love and wisdom human and divine. 

The anthem was 'O where shall wisdom be found' by Boyce; the psalm was 119:89-104 and the text Colossians 3:12-17.

There’s a shelf in my living room containing the ‘great unread’: the stack of novels including recommendations, gifts, spontaneous purchases; things I ‘ought’ to read.

Admittedly, long train journeys, looming book group meetings and holidays are opportunities to make rapid progress. And however many books there are, it’s guaranteed that the winner of The Man Booker Prize will be making it’s way to that pile!

Last week it was announced that George Saunders had won with Lincoln in the Bardo. Since the prize was launched, it has aimed to promote the finest fiction writing by rewarding the ‘best novel’ of the year written in English. The words used to describe Saunder’s work certainly fulfil that criterion. 

The Man Booker Prize 2017: The Telegraph

Baroness Young, the Chair of Judges, said: it’s ‘utterly original’ in form and style; witty, intelligent and deeply moving. She continues, it’s a ‘tale of haunting and haunted souls’; a book which is ‘both rooted in, and plays with history’. which ‘explores the meaning and experience of empathy’.

For the author, it is career transforming: the award bring recognition, rewards and readership. For book sellers and those in the publishing, demand for the shortlisted and winning novels, gives the industry a much needed boost.

But there is more to books than personal acclaim and economic benefit: we read because ideas form us and inspire us. Other worlds and characters enable us to think about our own identity and values. Novels give a frame of reference to explore possibilities and to critique the misuse of power. 

One critic, the author Hari Kunzru, described Saunders as a writer who is ‘expanding his universes outwards’. That’s a wonderful description of fiction writing: something expansive and outward looking; something which makes think afresh about our responsibilities and mortality. 

Fiction sometimes confronts us with the truth of human agency - it’s potential to bring hope or perpetuate despair. It is an attempt to grapple with the questions which confronted Job - distilled in today’s anthem: where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding?

In last week’s speech, Saunder’s acknowledges that ‘we live in a strange time’. He says, ‘the question at the heart of the matter is pretty simple, do we respond to fear with exclusion and negative projection and violence? Or do we take that ancient great leap of faith and do our best to respond with love?’. 

William Blake (c. 1803)

Job confessing his presumption to God who answers from the whirlwind 

Taking that ancient leap of faith and responding to love, is at the very heart of book of books which we know as the Bible. Job takes that leap of faith; finding wisdom in the love of God.

Saunder’s celebrates the international culture of The Man Booker Prize - calling it compassionate and activist.  In the biblical language of the poets, prophets, chroniclers and gospel writers, such compassion and activism is the stuff of God’s Kingdom. 

In Scripture we rejoice in the diversity of creation - in the opportunities for companionship. We name injustice and self-interest. We are repeatedly called back to the needs of the orphan, widow, and stranger; to the most vulnerable. 

It is the stuff of the psalmist: remembering God’s precepts, ordinances and commandments of love. To meditate on love is to orientate our lives in such a way that we  bring life to others. God’s words are sweeter than honey - not just because they satisfy us, but because they shape a more equitable world. 

Our love of words of love delight us and shape our vision for the common good.

In his acceptance speech - addressed to the glittering illuminati of the world of literature - Saunders addresses them as a ‘room full of believers in the word, in beauty and in ambiguity and in trying to see the other person’s point of view, even when that is hard’.

This is not just an attribute of writers - it is the calling of all God’s people. We believe not only in the power of words, but in the gift of the Word. God with us. In  the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, we see love made perfect in human weakness.

We believe not only in beauty, but in the beauty of holiness: seeing God’s light and love refracted in our world in art and music, biological science and law, in ingenuity and entrepreneurship; in the pursuit of wisdom to which the university is committed from geography to classics, languages and economics.

To be committed to that task is also to deal with ambiguity and debate; with history and empathy; with resources and sustainability; with conversation and seeing the point of view of the other person, even when that is hard.  

Such concerns also run through Paul’s letter to the Colossians. He is seeking to encourage the community in two ways: in their worship and daily living. 

In worship, they are to mediate on the wisdom of God revealed in Scripture; they are to praise God in the beauty of holiness. We too participate in that this evening. In the power of the Spirit, we worship Christ who embodies the fullness of God’s love.

In daily life, we are to reflect that Christ-like-ness. our habits of worship shape our habits of living. Whatever dilemmas and choice we face - whatever our contribution to the life of this University and the wider community of which we are part - God’s Holy Spirit is at work in us. Breath by breath, gesture by gesture, word by word.  God’s Word made flesh shapes our thinking, and is embodied in us afresh, for the sake of God’s Kingdom.

Paul describes this as be ‘clothed’ with virtues or characteristics of God’s love. The Bible speaks of God’s desire to bless all nations through the faithfulness of Abraham and Sarah. Through Christ, we too become heirs of that lineage: chosen, holy and beloved.

Through us, God’s blessing and love continues to reach to the ends of the earth. Much of this won’t be through attaining glittering literary prizes, but through the ordinary face to face encounters of our personal relationships. 

Compassion and kindness extends God’s love and mercy: to the aged and infirm, to the lonely and vulnerable. It raises the bar on human behaviour calling us to resist and name actions which are cruel, demeaning or abusive. 

To be self-controlled challenges us to consider when our anger is justified at harm done to others.  To be patience is the wisdom to resist despair and cynicism. Given our human propensity to mess things up, how do we reflect God’s patience to keep loving? How do we entrust others with responsibility that they might learn and flourish? When do we need to set firm boundaries to protect others from harm?

Humility reminds us of the essential ‘creatureliness’ of humanity: there can be no room for arrogance; there can be no exploitation of the created order. How do we live wisely and sustainably knowing that our planet is a precious and finite gift of God?

We are members of one body: a body which lives and moves in our world. 

A body which gets stressed and anxious. 

A body which is held together in fellowship through the love and peace of Christ. 

A body which is rooted in the words which testify to the Word made flesh. 

We seek wisdom in scripture, psalms, hymns and spiritual songs; and whatever we do in word or deed, we do in the name of Jesus. 

In the power of the Spirit, may we expand the universe outwards; may we build God’s Kingdom moment by moment. Amen. 

©  Julie Gittoes 2017