New Year 2026 – The Gospel of John

To begin the New Year, we return to the wonderful Gospel of John, starting at the beginning of chapter 11…

Note: all Inspirations are now uploaded for the week – scroll down for Friday’s, and earlier posts…

Saturday 24th January: John 17:15-23 ‘That they may be one’

This week is the annual Week of Prayer for Christian Unity.  Today, we skip forward a few chapters in John to honour the importance of this week, and what it means for us.

This is a subject dear to our hearts, since our team of churches in Walton, Milton Keynes is an ecumenical one: that is, we are a united community representing several Christian traditions, all committed to each other, for the glory of God.  It is not an easy path: for churches like ours to function well requires a lot of grace and understanding.  But the price is worth it, as I believe – and still believe! – that churches like ours are a true reflection of God’s heart, of his longing for a renewed people who truly live as one global family.  This is, after all, what Jesus prays for us in today’s iconic passage.

It is tempting to join a church where people are ‘all like us’: but true discipleship calls us to go beyond our naturally limited ambitions.  Christ came for all of us, and all of our sisters and brothers are precious.  To be one is not to be the same, but rather to celebrate our uniqueness and diversity within a common vision that what unites us is always more than what divides us.

This is the path we have chosen.  It probably won’t ever look ‘successful’, but it is precious and beautiful, and we pray that God will be merciful to us and continue to bless us.

So, let’s pray today for our church, that we might continue to celebrate our oneness, for the glory of God.  But let’s also pray for our team, for churches across Milton Keynes and ultimately for churches across the world, that unity would grow.  As our world seems to be ever more divided, it has never been more important for the church to be a prophetic sign of loving unity, of seeing human barriers broken down and covered over by the grace of God.

And may God grant us grace to be one, that ‘the world might know that you sent me, and have loved them, even as you have loved me’ (v23).  Amen.

Friday 23rd January – John 12:19-24 ‘The hour has come’

If you like watching thrillers, you’ll know the moment in the story when the tables turn. The heroes have their backs against the wall – but suddenly the very thing that their captors or enemies thought they had under their control is turned against them, and the heroes prevail.  The idea repeats itself so often that we more or less take it for granted.  We rarely stop to think where it comes from, why humanity so often needs to tell such stories – or indeed to trace it back to the greatest ‘table-turn’ of them all.

As we reflected yesterday, Jesus sees the bigger picture well before anybody else does – he knows where this is leading, and, amazingly, he goes there anyway.  And what we see in today’s passage is Jesus ‘turning the tables’ on the very idea the Sanhedrin were discussing after the raising of Lazarus – let’s head back briefly to Caiaphas’ words in 11:50: ‘It is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.’  One person for all people…

…exactly what Jesus has in mind – but here’s how he describes it in today’s passage: (v24) ‘Unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies it remains only a single seed.  But if it dies, it produces many seeds.’  It’s the same ‘one on behalf of all’ image – but notice the crucial difference.  Jesus is not just saving others from death (which he is), he is also bringing life to many.  The very thing Caiaphas describes brings so much more than Caiaphas can imagine: it brings life, it reproduces itself multiple times over.

Jesus calls this his moment of glory – and let’s not miss how radical this description is.  How is the ‘the Son of Man… glorified’? (v23)  By his sacrificial death.  What a world-changing definition of glory!  Who else before Jesus could possibly have thought of glory like this?  And in the 2,000 years since, the vast majority of the extraordinary human beings who have also lived like this have been inspired by the original blueprint of Jesus’ own life and death.

Near the start of the gospel (ch3), Jesus foretold this moment when talking with Nicodemus: he calls it his ‘lifting up’ (3:14).  But it doesn’t refer to his resurrection, what you might call his subsequent and ultimate ‘lifting up’, or even his ascension into heaven.  It refers to his death – his lifting up on the wooden cross.  This, for Jesus, is the ‘hour’ when he is glorified, and draws people to himself.

What a wonderful Saviour we have!  Today, let’s give thanks for Jesus’ courage, his obedience, and way his abundant life has marvellously reproduced in us.  We are his ‘seeds’ – may we too keep growing in this abundant life and hope which our glorified Lord won for us.  Amen.

Thursday 22nd January – John 12:1-19 (reprise) ‘Collateral damage’

Some years ago I watched a fascinating programme about child behaviour.  Ten boys and ten girls (none of whom knew each other) were each invited to a location to live under the same roof for a limited time.  Their behaviour was observed by psychologists, and the aim of the programme was to show how they formed relationships and interacted.

There were lots of striking things about the programme – but one thing that stuck with me was that in each group there was one troubled child, who found it hard not to get their own way, to observe guidelines or behavioural norms, or to form healthy relationships.  And this one child made the life of the rest of the group very difficult indeed.  No matter that 9 were broadly well-adjusted – it just took 1 to ‘spoil’ the group.

It’s just one example, but so often we see something similar in society.  It only takes a small number of troubled people to cause a lot of damage for everybody else.  Underneath the dramatic narrative of the Anointing at Bethany and the Triumphal Entry we see a similar pattern at work: among the disciples there is Judas (vv4-6); among the vast crowds there are the Pharisees (vv10-11,19).

For all the disciples’ journey with Jesus over three years, it just took one disillusioned soul to betray him.  For all the enthusiasm and worship of the crowds, it just took a small number of determined opponents to get Jesus arrested, and then sway the crowds to turn against him. 

Even Lazarus risked becoming collateral damage in this powerplay: it is a bitter irony indeed that the man who had just been resurrected now fears for his life simply for the impertinence of being very much alive (v10)!

Jesus, of course, knew all this.  Although anybody else might also be seen as collateral damage in the face of frustrated ambition and corrupt power, he retains this extraordinary sense of being in control of a narrative which appears to be happening around him.  Jesus’ divine identity is so great that he can even redeem the very things that are against him, the very people who want to destroy him.  Indeed their plotting ultimately only served to achieve his purposes, and – in another moment of great irony – make the Pharisees’ greatest fear become very much a reality: (v19) ‘Look how the whole world has gone after him!’

Look indeed.  And we still do – 2,000 years later, the world is still going after Jesus: some, sadly, to persecute, many more to follow.  We too, are invited to go after Jesus: to meet him, to marvel at him, to worship him.  And may the Lord stir our hearts today, as it did those crowds, to declare with our lips and our lives: ‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’  Amen.

Wednesday 21st January – John 12:12-19 ‘Blessed is the King!’

Palm Sunday is such a familiar story to many of us; we celebrate it every year, on the Sunday before Easter Day.  The image of Jesus riding on a donkey into Jerusalem is one etched into our minds, and we usually approach the day with a mixture of excitement and awe.  Excitement that privations of Lent are nearly over, that the biggest week of our year is upon us, that the crowds are cheering Jesus on.  And awe, perhaps, too, because we know what comes next, and how quickly the crowd turns.  How quickly perhaps we turn, too.

On Palm Sunday Jesus reveals himself as both the Jewish Messiah and the King for the whole world.  The donkey is significant, as John’s quotation of Zechariah makes clear: Jesus was proclaiming his humility, but also fulfilling a great prophecy which related to God’s anointed rescuer.  That’s why the crowds were excited.  The Rescuer was arriving in Jerusalem, just as Zechariah had predicted 500 years ago.

But even as Jesus raises their hopes, he confounds them too.  Not just the donkey – prophecy or no prophecy, what sort of king arrives on a donkey? – his first act (not recorded by John, but recorded in the other gospels) is to go into the temple and challenge the materialism and corruption of the biggest festival in the Jewish year. 

Jesus came, but not as they expected him to.

And that theme is one which runs through the whole of the gospels.  Jesus constantly surprises us.  He comes, but not as we expect.  Born a King, but not in a palace, rather an animals’ feeding trough.  He prefers the company of the disreputable to the respectable.  He is rejected by his home town.  He challenges the prevailing interpretation of the Sabbath laws.  He withdraws whenever popular excitement gets too much.  He demonstrates his authority ,but tells people to keep quiet about it. 

And then… he arrives in Jerusalem as King, but on a donkey not a stallion.  He receives the embrace of the crowd but then challenges their religious practice.  He doesn’t even stay in the city, but as Mark records, leaves and spends the nights in Bethany.  In our days of PR gurus and image management, no self-respecting adviser would recommend any of these things.  What sort of a king is he?

He comes, but not as we expect.

And the good news of this passage is that this is exactly what Jesus does, and still does.  He is not an upholder of the religious establishment or the old ways.  Jesus is not limited to our buildings or our books. He is always making everything new.  His Spirit, like the wind, is wild and free.  He is perfectly able to meet with us where we are, to bring us joy in unexpected places, and the peace that transcends understanding.  He is with us right now….

Today, let’s approach this extraordinary Saviour with that same mixture of excitement and awe.  And may the Lord still come to us in unexpected ways today.

Tuesday 20th January – John 12:1-11 ‘A preparation for burial’

The beautiful story of the anointing at Bethany is also one of the most debated – at least, John’s version is.  Why does he change the details?  And does this cast doubt on the reliability of the bible?

Let’s tackle this head-on today.  And we have to start by acknowledging that this account does appear to be a splicing together of the other two ‘anointings’ in the other gospels: the early episode where a ‘sinful woman’ pours perfume over Jesus’ feet at the house of Simon the Pharisee (Luke 7:36-50) and the other Bethany anointing accounts in Matthew and Mark where an unnamed woman pours expensive perfume over Jesus’ head (Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:1-11).  So, here in John’s account, in a house in Bethany near to the time of Jesus’ death (like Matthew’s and Mark’s accounts), Mary pours perfume over Jesus’s feet (like Luke, albeit a different location at a different time). 

It is possible to harmonise most of the discrepancies: Simon the Leper – the owner of the house in Bethany according to Matthew and Mark – could be another brother to Mary, Martha and Lazarus, or indeed the first name of Lazarus himself.  In that case, Mary could then be the unnamed woman in the account of Matthew and Mark.  In similar vein, Mary could have anointed both Jesus’ head and Jesus’ feet, so both accounts are true.  In this line of thinking, the gospels give us two anointings of Jesus: by an unnamed woman early in his ministry (recorded by Luke) and by Mary at Bethany recorded by Matthew, Mark and John, albeit with different details included.

This is possible – what isn’t possible is that John records a different time of this encounter.  In Matthew and Mark, the anointing happens in what we now call Holy Week i.e. after Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem. Here in John, it happens before – the triumphal entry comes next. 

What are we to do with all this?

The first thing to say is that genuine eyewitness accounts differ – and their authenticity in fact relies on small differences between the accounts. That’s what makes them human, and credible.

The second thing to say is that we can still be sure that Jesus was anointed at Bethany – it’s recorded by three different writers – and that this anointing meant something important.

…which leads us onto the vital question of meaning and interpretation.  John is very different to the other gospel writers.  If the other writers are photographs, John is a portrait.  For him, the meaning of the encounter is all-important.  If that means a little latitude on the precise details, then this is justified if it illuminates who Jesus was and why he came more clearly.  John wants us to truly believe that Jesus is the Servant King of all humanity.  Therefore, he is anointed before he enters Jerusalem, since anointing was the act of declaring a king.  But it was his feet, not his head, as a reminder of his humility – hence John also has the unique foot-washing episode at the Last Supper in a chapter’s time.

This may offend our scientific sensibilities; but truth goes deeper than simple precision.  As a historian myself, I do struggle with John’s more cavalier attitude; but we need John in the canon of the bible – think what we would lose without him! 

Ultimately, what is incontestable is that Jesus himself knew the significance of this encounter – and as our narrative moves into the decisive final week of Jesus’ life, may our hearts continue to anoint Jesus as our true King.  And may that overflow in extravagant worship, as it did for Mary.  Amen.

Monday 19th January – John 11:54-12:2 ‘He withdrew to the wilderness’

Today’s passage is one that can be read on two levels.  In narrative terms, it forms a ‘quiet moment’ between the two emotional peaks of the dramatic raising of Lazarus (ch11) and the even more dramatic return to Jerusalem, which ultimately led to his arrest, trial, death and resurrection (ch12 onwards).  Knowing that a very powerful group now wants to kill him (v53), not surprisingly Jesus withdraws from the public gaze (v54).

He finds a village about 13 miles from Jerusalem – far enough away to be out of sight, but close enough to be able to return in one day’s walk – where he stays with his disciples.  And just as well: although Jesus is keeping a low profile, the crowds are still desperately looking for him: (v56) ‘Isn’t he coming to the festival at all?’  Moreover, the Pharisees have spies ready to pounce on any sighting of the notorious rabbi from Nazareth (v57).

Even when Jesus returns, he stops first in Bethany to see his great friends (12:1-2).  Bethany is on the same side of Jerusalem as the village where he was staying, so Jesus doesn’t need to enter the city and can therefore retain a low profile until it’s time to ‘go public’ again.

That’s the practical explanation of what’s going on… but there’s a deeper meaning here, too.  John calls the village ‘Ephraim’.  This word has powerful connotations: it was the name of the patriarch Joseph’s second son, and it means ‘fruitful’ – so named because God had made him fruitful in Egypt, the ‘land of his affliction’ (Genesis 41:52).  The actual name of the village was Ephron – mentioned in 2 Chronicles 13:19 – but I don’t think John is making a mistake, he knows what he’s doing.  He wants us to understand two things: first, Jesus is recharging spiritually.  So goes to the village called ‘fruitful’ to prepare himself for what is to come.  It begs the question for us: where is your fruitful hideaway – the place you go to recharge?

Second, Ephraim is often used as the name for the whole northern kingdom of Israel.  This village is not in that area – it’s in Judea, in the land of the tribe of Benjamin – but again, this is not a mistake.  John is saying, in effect, that Jesus dwells for a season in ‘Ephraim’ (equating to the northern kingdom), before fulfilling his mission in Jerusalem (the southern) – in other words, he brings the two together, just as the great prophets foretold.  Ephraim nourishes Jesus before he saves the world on a rocky outcrop in Judea.  Jesus redeems the whole people of God as part of his mission to rescue all of humanity.

It turns out that there’s much in a name!  As we begin our week, may the Lord grant us all times in ‘Ephraim’ – fruitful renewal – that we may also be fruitful in all that the Lord has for us: this day, and every day.  Amen.

Saturday 17th January – Psalm 34  ‘The Taste’

As we conclude our week, a reflection from the Psalms:

I’ve always loved my food.  I don’t have a big appetite, but I enjoy eating pretty much everything – finding as much joy in cheese and beans on toast as a gourmet dish.  At school it became a lunchtime ritual for my friends to dare me to taste a bit of everything together, including mains and pudding.  Like Remy in the film ‘Ratatouille’, you’d be amazed what surprising flavour combinations you can experience!

Today’s psalm reminds us of another kind of taste, albeit in many ways a spiritual version of tasting a bit of everything together in life: (v8) ‘Taste and see that the Lord is good.’  It was written after a particularly dramatic moment in David’s story (you can read the whole saga in 1 Samuel 21): fleeing from King Saul, and effectively under arrest with the Philistine king Achish (introduced in the starting notes to the psalm by the royal name Abimelek or Abimelech, depending on your translation) he pretended to be mad and was eventually run out of town.

What is instructive about David’s take on this escape is that he attributes its success not to his cunning, but to the Lord’s intervention and protection: (v6) ‘This poor man called, and the Lord heard him; he saved him out of all his troubles.’  In other words, although David took initiative, he knew that unless God changed the heart of King Achish, he was done for.  David was rightly afraid (v4); but he recognises another, fruitful ‘fear’ – better translated as ‘awe’ or ‘reverence’ – the fear of the Lord.  It is this reverent awe which invites both the Lord’s protection (v7) and provision (v9).

On this occasion, David wants to use his experience not just to testify but to teach (v11).  He has learnt invaluable lessons, but, in the second half of the psalm, he wants to make sure we learn them, too.  He is candid that even the righteous will have many troubles (v19), many challenges in this life – but we can trust the Lord to deliver us.

And so, back to the key verse of this psalm: to anyone who faces challenges, David’s advice is simple: ‘taste and see that the Lord is good’.  In other words, give trusting God a try.  Taste and see.  See what happens, see what the Lord is able to do. 

It’s great advice, and one which increasingly I offer to those who ask me.  My years of Christian leadership and training have given me lots of arguments to persuade people; but in the end, what turns a person’s heart to the Lord most often is simply to ‘taste and see’.  If God is real – as we know he is – then he’ll come through, we will experience that reality for ourselves.  So, whatever you face today, may that be your reality, too.  And as we recognise that the Lord’s eyes and ears are turned towards us (v15), let us exalt his name together!

Friday 16th January – John 11:49-53 ‘Better that one man die…’

Many years ago I was privileged to pastor a young lady who’d come to faith on an alpha course our church had run.  I asked her how she’d found her way to Alpha.  She replied that some people from church had been handing out fliers for alpha in the train station, and her partner had taken one.  He’d got home, looked at the flier and thrown it in the bin.  Arriving home from work later, she had noticed the flier in the bin and wondered it was.  She fished it out, read it and decided to attend the course, despite her partner’s scepticism.  As a result, she had marvellously come to faith, and was now seeking to follow Jesus!

This kind of amazing story reminds us that God can use even ‘negative’ actions, or opposition, to achieve his purposes.  In fact, if her partner had not ‘opposed’ the course, but instead just filed the flier away somewhere, she may never have come to faith at that particular time.  God was at work in a contested situation.

If that was a small (but miraculous) example of God’s ‘mysterious ways’, then today’s passage is arguably the biggest example of them all.  Jesus’ actions have aroused the determined opposition of the religious leaders of his day.  The raising of Lazarus – a clear demonstration of his Messianic identity – has significantly increased the stakes.  Jesus is no longer just an unorthodox rabbi, he is a destabilising influence, a threat (v48).  So, he must die.  That is the blunt conclusion (v53).

But what the religious leaders don’t realise is that, albeit for completely the wrong reasons, they are only fulfilling the Lord’s purposes all along.  In what must be the greatest unintentional prophetic word of all time, Caiaphas declares the gospel in his words of condemnation: ‘You do not realise that it is better for you that one man die for the people than that the whole nation perish.’

Looking back, John can see clearly what God is up to: Jesus’ death acts as a representative sacrifice for humanity – not just for the Jewish nation, but also for the world (vv51-52).  As it turned out, Jesus’ death only maintained the political status quo for another 35-40 years.  In the late 60s, a huge rebellion began, which ultimately led to the destruction of ‘the temple and the nation’ (v48). 

But Jesus’ death – praise be to God! – saved humanity for all time.  And more than that, his death also paved the way for a new humanity, one which is ‘made one’ in Christ (v52).

Today, let’s give thanks that God is at work in all circumstances, however confusing or challenging they may appear.  We only see a part of the picture – God sees it all.  Perhaps take a moment to reflect on times in the past when God has worked in surprising ways in your life.  And pray with confidence to trust in that same Lord for now, and for the future.  He is always faithful.

Thursday 15th January – John 11:43-48 ‘If we let him go on like this…’

Light attracts some creatures and repels others.  We see this all through nature; and it’s not just the unappealing creatures who prefer the darkness: think of owls or leopards – beautiful animals, however deadly they are!

It’s easy to imagine that Jesus’ miracles must have been universally welcomed.  After all, who could possibly be offended by bodies being healed, people being fed, and (here) someone even being raised to life?  But, as we know, that isn’t the case.  The theologian R.A. Lambourne comments that all of Jesus’ miracles are krisis moments – krisis is the Greek word which means judgement: in other words, people have to make a decision.  Are they for Jesus or against him?  Will they follow him or reject him?

The raising of Lazarus is a supreme ‘krisis’ moment: not surprisingly, as John records (v45), ‘many of the Jews who had come to visit Mary, and had seen what Jesus did, believed in him.’  Imagine being there, and seeing that…. most of us would do the same!

But not everybody.  An act so powerful, so subversive of cultural norms, has other repercussions: (v46) ‘some… went to the Pharisees and told them what Jesus had done.’  This group felt entirely differently, they saw Jesus’ spiritual power as a direct threat to worldly power – not just theirs, but Rome’s: (v48) ‘If we let him go on like this, everyone will believe in him, and then the Romans will come and take away both our temple and our nation.’  Revival risked revolution; and revolution risked repression.

Throughout history the freedom and life Jesus brings implicitly challenges other power structures – even if the people so transformed by Christ live as model citizens.  You can explain it in all kinds of ways, but in essence it boils down to simple, old-fashioned human pride.  To believe in Christ is to humble ourselves, that God might raise us up.  Some prefer to hide in the darkness (John 3:19-20); but praise God for all those who come into the light (John 3:21)!

As we reflect on this extraordinary story today, may God give us all grace to respond as that first group did: to put our faith in Jesus, and trust in him for life.  And let’s also pray for the many millions of fellow followers round the world who live under oppressive regimes.  May they experience that true peace which passes understanding, and may the joy of the Lord be their – and our – strength.

Wednesday 14th January – John 11:40-44 ‘Lazarus, come out!’

Of all Jesus’ miracles, the raising of Lazarus is the most dramatic.  The feeding of the 5,000 may have been on a larger scale, the walking on the water more terrifying – but the combination of extraordinary power and sheer pathos we see here gives this miracle a unique position in the gospels.  John certainly gives it that kind of billing: he only records seven ‘signs’, and this is the final one; since seven is the biblical number for perfection or completeness, we can conclude that, for John, this is the most perfect, the most complete.

It’s not Jesus’ only raising of somebody else from the dead: we have already marvelled at the widow of Nain’s son (Luke 7) and Jairus’ daughter (Luke 8).  But this is the first resurrection miracle where the person Jesus raises is already entombed.  The gap between Lazarus’ death and his rising is days, not hours.  Even Jesus’ great friend (and Lazarus’ sister) Martha doubted that he could do anything now – when Jesus tells people to move the stone, she questions the wisdom of his actions, and the smell that people will have to endure (v39).

There is, therefore, no doubt as to the extraordinary nature of this miracle.  Jesus is not just restoring the breath of life, but reversing decay.  That much is clear from the striking description of Lazarus appearing, still fully clothed in bandages (v44).  It must have been an unforgettable sight for those privileged to witness it.  We’re not told what Martha and Mary thought, but we can only imagine their shock and joy.  Nor are we told what Lazarus made of it all – all we know is that he was dining with them all some time later (John 12:2).  Life went on!

What makes this such an important ‘sign’ for John is of course that the raising of Lazarus directly prefigures what Jesus will do himself.  Jesus was himself entombed, and wrapped in bandages when he rose from the dead.  If Jesus can do this for Lazarus, he can do this for himself, too.  Or, as Peter puts it on the Day of Pentecost: ‘But God raised him from the dead, freeing him from the agony of death, because it was impossible for death to keep its hold on him.’ (Acts 2:24)  Jesus simply has too much life!

We, too, are called into this life.  We may still be living, physically, but Jesus’ call to Lazarus in some ways is also his call to us: ‘Come out!  Come into the new life I have in store for you!  Be alive in me!’

Today, thanks to Jesus, you have resurrection life.  Like Lazarus we do all still die – but death is not the end.  The tomb is not our final destination.  We are made alive in Christ.  As we give thanks for that resurrection life today, let’s resolve to live that life to the full, to bring it to others, to share it with the world.  In our different ways, we are all Lazaruses.

Tuesday 13th January – John 11:38-40 ‘The glory of God’

‘If you believe, you will see the glory of God.’

It’s quite a promise, isn’t it?

When we talk about glory nowadays, we usually mean some great achievement, or something which merits great praise – this weekend we’ve had talk of FA Cup glory, for example, for the winning teams, especially those who registered shock victories.  And that’s all well and good – but it’s missing a vital link.  In biblical terms, the word ‘glory’ refers to the manifest presence of God.  It literally means ‘weight’ and originally appears whenever God shows up directly in the presence of humanity.

The first biblical references all occur around the time of the Exodus, the giving of the law and the Israelites’ wanderings in the desert.  So, when Moses and Aaron first begin their priestly ministry, we’re told that, ‘the glory of the Lord appeared to all the people.  Fire came out from the presence of the Lord and consumed the burnt offering and the fat portions on the altar. And when all the people saw it, they shouted for joy and fell face down.’ (Leviticus 9:23-24)

You can see the missing link: when God’s glory appears, it results in praise and awe – but that is the outcome of the glory, not the glory itself.  The ‘glory’ is God’s manifest presence with his people.

Let’s fast-forward to the story of Lazarus and our passage for today – and specifically, Jesus’ extraordinary words to those gathered by the tomb: (v40) ‘Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?’  How is God’s glory, God’s manifest presence, demonstrated in the age of Christ?  In resurrection life!  God is the author of life, and his presence brings life.  ‘We have seen his glory,’ John declares at the start of the gospel (1:14), and now his friends and onlookers will see it demonstrated in the most remarkable way: God’s presence, bringing life.

Since Pentecost, one of the greatest parts of our good news is that God’s manifest presence – in other words, his glory – is available to all believers, all those who follow the Messiah who promises the Lord’s glory to those who believe.  Wherever the Lord is bringing new life, there we can see his glory.  God is working his ‘glory’ in us: ‘We all, who with unveiled faces contemplate the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his image with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.’ (2 Cor 3:18) 

We are all slowly being transformed by God’s Spirit – something which, as that wonderful verse declares, brings ‘ever-increasing glory’ to the Lord.  Where is God’s glory at work in you at the moment?  Where might you see God’s glory bringing life today?  Pray with confidence, because those who believe, Jesus promises, will see the glory of God.  Amen.

Monday 12th January – John 11:28-37 ‘If you had been here…’

‘If only I’d been there…’  I wonder if you’ve ever found yourself thinking something like that?  Sadly, many of us have, usually with a sense of loss at something we missed out on.  It can also work the other way round: ‘if only you’d been here,’ someone might say to us – maybe an event we’d have enjoyed, or maybe because we could have contributed something that was needed.  A skill, perhaps – either practical or medical.

Sometimes our absence relates to a situation which causes us to feel guilt, because our presence would have made a positive impact.  This certainly seems to be the case in our famous story, and Jesus’ encounter with (previously) Martha and then (today) his sister Mary. It is the first thing that both sisters say to Jesus – ‘if you had been here…’ – perhaps in sorrow, but possibly also in accusation.  They both love Jesus, but that might make their disappointment and sadness all the more acute.  Certainly, those watching this remarkable episode were more accusatory: (v37) ‘Could not he who opened the eyes of the blind man have kept this man from dying?’  Where were you, Jesus, when we needed you?

That question is one that many of us face in the trials of life.  As we reflected a few days ago, when bad things happen we feel confused, our faith is challenged, we may feel we have hard questions to ask Jesus.  And what we observe today (as we did a few days ago) is that Jesus can take our hard questions.  He doesn’t get angry or self-justificatory.  Indeed, he feels our pain.

The word John uses in v33 which is translated ‘deeply moved’ is far more visceral than that.  It literally means ‘his guts wrenched’ – it is a compassion so deep he feels physical pain or nausea.  Jesus emphathises that much – not just with Mary and Martha, but with us, too.

The shortest verse in the bible is perhaps also the most profound: (v35) ‘Jesus wept.’  In those two simple words, we see God’s great heart of compassion for humanity – the heart that led him to create us, to provide for us, to come to this broken world to love us and meet with us and befriend us and bless us and save us.  We worship a ‘with-us’ God – not just an ‘up-there’ God, one who is too majestic to get his hands dirty, or his cheeks streaked with tears.  We worship a God who weeps for his dead friend.

It’s not a philosophical answer to the problem of suffering, but a heart of compassion, an arm round the shoulder, a promise of his presence.  And, whilst Mary and Martha experienced Jesus’ physical presence, our good news is that, by His Spirit, we can know Jesus’ constant presence in our hearts, his abiding comfort and compassion.

If you weep today, Jesus weeps with you.  If you rejoice, Jesus rejoices.  He is with you.  Always.

Saturday 10th January – Matthew 2:1-12 ‘They presented him with gifts’

One last reflection before we put our biblical crib scene away this year!  Few characters in the bible grab people’s attention like the Magi.  Who were they?  Where did they live?  What exactly was the star?  And those gifts…?

Let’s start by reflecting that the Magi’s gifts of gold, incense and myrrh were all things they used in their magic, so they would have been natural things for the Magi to bring.  Although that makes them even more remarkable, when you think about it…  As this new year begins, what do they mean for us?

Let’s start with GOLD.  There are, of course, lots of ways we can show Jesus is king in our lives – worship is all about that, isn’t it?  The word is an abbreviation of ‘worth-ship’ – this person is worthy of honour.  Our whole lives are worship.  But gold is still a fundamental part of that. What we spend our money on tells us what or who we worship.  C.S. Lewis once said: ‘a bank statement is a theological document, it tells us what and who we worship.’  Christmas is always a challenge, financially – but as we look forward to 2026, we still have to ask ourselves the question: will we honour Jesus with our gold this year?

Second, MYRRH – which reminds us that Jesus had a special destiny.  Myrrh is the most striking point at which the Easter story intrudes, if you like, into the Christmas story.  The 12 days of Christmas might be ending but we are always Easter people.  And myrrh reminds us to keep the cross at the centre of our lives.  As the evangelist J John is fond of saying: never forget that the main thing is to keep the main thing the main thing. This year, will you keep the main thing the main thing?  Will the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection inspire you daily to worship with your lips and your lives?

Finally, FRANKINCENSE – which reminds us that Jesus was an offering to God.  Incense was used in the temple for sacrifices and also when prayers were offered.  We all know that there is nothing more important than prayer, but we also all know that prayer is the hardest thing.  Who finds it easy to pray?  Let’s admit that we all find it tough – but it’s good, at the start of the year, to look at ourselves and think: how are we going to grow in prayer this year?

Here’s lots of ideas – see if one jumps out at you: maybe you need a better time.  Maybe you need a better place – not necessarily a single location: if you pray better when you walk, go walking.  Maybe you need a new method – there are lots of resources available: Lectio 365, Pray as you go, Daily Prayer to name just three – all of them free on the internet.  Or maybe you need to meet to pray with people more often.  Group prayer is exponentially more effective than individual prayer – if three people pray together it’s not just 3, it’s 3×3 – try it and see….

Three invitations for us, as we begin this year.  The Magi teach us ultimately that true worship is active, and costly – but the reward is priceless.  May we, too, experience their joy as we offer our lives and our gifts to Jesus this year.  Amen.

Friday 9th January – Matthew 2:9-12 ‘They were overjoyed’

I wonder what emotions you associate with the Magi?  Most likely the first things that come to mind are curiosity, wonder, maybe courage?  We might also think about fear – fear of Herod, of the danger they might be putting themselves (and Jesus) into.

One detail we often overlook is that one of the primary emotions the Magi experienced was joy.  And no wonder!  They had travelled on a great journey to get to Bethlehem – probably lasting several weeks, with the heat of the day and the cold of the night, with the danger of bandits and uncertainty of the outcome.  I don’t know about you, but I find myself greatly relieved on a journey of a few hours with Google Maps to guide me – imagine their emotions when they finally reach Bethlehem, and find the infant Jesus, the one they’ve given up so much to find.  Pure joy!

If the Magi teach us anything, it is that seeking Jesus generates joy.  And this might be hard to hear at present, not many of us would claim to be feeling much joy in these anxious times.  But this is what the Magi experienced in their journey: v10 ‘when they saw the star [stopping over Bethlehem], they were overjoyed.’  As we reflected in Advent, joy is not necessarily about happiness, but about the sense of being part of something greater than we are, where God’s purposes are being fulfilled and his kingdom is being built. 

We find joy in serving Jesus, and others: this could be in practical help, or prayer, or encouragement.  Like the Magi we need to keep our eyes peeled: where is your star stopping?  What are you being pointed towards?  If you find that place, you may find unexpected joy this year.  Who knows, you may even find it today!

Thursday 8th January – Matthew 2:1-8 ‘We have come to worship’

A brief pause from John! A (belated) reflection for Epiphany

I love the wise men.  They’re probably my favourite nativity characters (apart from Jesus, obviously).  Why?  It’s not just the sense of the exotic or their strange gifts, though that helps: the wise men remind us that the good news of Jesus’ coming into the world is for everyone – God meets all of us where we are, and leads the most unlikely people to worship him.  And that includes people like you, or me.

We have to admit, though, that in some ways, they’re more like the Three Stooges than the Three Wise Men!  Read the story with fresh eyes and you’ll notice: they go to the wrong place – they arrive in Jerusalem and have to be directed by others to Bethlehem. They speak to the wrong person – the one person who they really shouldn’t talk with about a new king is the terrifying old tyrant Herod – a man so gripped by a lust to cling on to power that he has already murdered most of his own family, his wife and some of her family as well, because he thought they were plotting against him.  And when they give gifts, it’s gold, frankincense and myrrh, which – yes, have added meaning – but also were elements used in their magic. 

And yet, by a mysterious combination of God’s loving grace and their faithful seeking, they are there – as heralds of the gospel, a gospel which, in the birth of the Messiah, Jesus the Christ, the fulfilment of all God’s promises, breaks the banks of the old river and floods the grace of God into the whole world.

As we reflect on their remarkable story over the next three days, today let’s notice one simple, but profound, thing – they came to worship: ‘we saw his star when it rose and have come to worship him’ (v2).  It might sound obvious, but in that one tiny detail we get a gentle reminder of one the most important truths of all.  Jesus is many things to us, but our first calling when it comes to our relationship with Jesus is to worship him. 

A wise old mentor once said to me: ‘Make sure to seek the Lord’s face before you seek his hand.’  In other words, it’s natural to want to ask Jesus for things.  When we pray, we have lots of things we need help with – help for ourselves, help for others: we need Jesus’ hand of help.  But first, we need to be close to Jesus, we need to gaze on his face, we need to worship him.  Jesus is not just there for our shopping list of needs. 

The wise men had, ironically, the great advantage of not realising they needed Jesus’ help with anything.  They simply came first and foremost to worship him.  That’s what led them at least 700 miles across the desert – or more likely, round the top of it – to see him, to spend time with him.  And it’s the same for us: will we, today, this year, make that our priority too?  To seek the Lord’s face first, and then to seek his hand?

Wednesday 7th January – John 11:17-27 ‘The resurrection and the life’

Whenever I read today’s passage, I have this sense of walking on holy ground.  It’s such a well-known encounter – Jesus and his friend Martha, a shared grief, a conversation about life and death – and yet always somehow ‘other’: holy, mysterious, awesome.  A passage to make you take off your shoes and kneel in wonder.

At the heart is this extraordinary statement: (vv25-26) ‘I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die.’  It’s the fifth of Jesus’ ‘I am’ statements – you can probably remember some of the others, maybe not the order!  Thus far, we’ve had: I am… the bread of life (ch6), the light of the world (ch8), the gate for the sheep (ch10), the good shepherd (ch10 again).  Each one reveals a facet of Jesus’ divinity – the One who nourishes us for ever; the One whose light draws us and guides us; the One who protects us; the One who pastors us – and now the One who brings us life.

There are two Greek words for ‘life’: bios and zoe.  The first – bios – just means physical existence. The second – zoe – means real life, spiritual life, the things that make life worth living.  This is the word for life that Jesus uses here.  This is the life to which he calls us – what he described in the previous chapter as ‘abundant life’ (10:10).

It’s a life we can know now, before we die.  But this passage also reminds us that this hope extends beyond death (v26).  You could say that on this earth, we have both kinds of life (bios and zoe), but in eternity there will be only one kind of life – zoe – the life Jesus talks about here: abundant and eternal.

It’s quite a thought.  And, for all the joy of Lazarus’ physical resurrection in the next part of the story, it’s a thought we need to hold onto.  Our hope goes beyond the grave, into eternity.  This hope, Jesus declares, comes through believing in him (or ‘on’ him, a translation I like, because it carries that sense of dependence and trust).  It is freely given, available to all who will receive it at any point, and lasts forever.  Wow!

Jesus had this conversation with one individual – but, as so often with Jesus, what he shared with her is for all of us.  As we stand on this holy ground today, let’s give thanks for this promise of life, for the hope, the peace, the joy and the purpose it brings.  And may our response be simply that of Martha’s – whether for the first, or thousandth, time: ‘Yes, Lord, I believe!’

Tuesday 6th January – John 11:5-16 ‘This world’s light’

In any survey of the greatest barriers to faith, the question of suffering always comes at the top of the list.  Ahead of science, of biblical reliability, of judgement, of doubt – all the other thorny issues which cause people to wonder.  And the reason for this is ultimately personal: when people struggle with suffering, it’s not an abstract question.  ‘Why does God allow suffering?’ nearly always means, ‘Why did God allow me/my family member/my friend to suffer?’  Life throws up questions we can’t answer; questions we want to address to God.

This famous story of Lazarus is a perfect example of this.  Many of us love this story, we treasure it, and it contains one of the greatest promises in all scripture (‘I am the resurrection and the life’ – more on that tomorrow); but in our eagerness to celebrate what Jesus ultimately does, we have to face the difficult questions, too.  In yesterday’s and today’s passages, there are at least four confusing things to navigate, the first of which we noted yesterday in v4: ‘this illness will not end in death.’

Then v6: Jesus loves Lazarus and his sisters but chooses to delay his visit.  Even worse, he says in v15: ‘I am glad I was not there.’  At the time Jesus said this, who on earth could have interpreted that in a pastorally positive way?  Finally, in then apparently changing his mind and deciding to go, Jesus is potentially putting his life, and his disciples’ lives, in danger: (v8) ‘a short while ago the Jews there tried to stone you and yet you are going back?’

None of it makes any sense – at least not in the moment these things happened.  Is this not our experience, too?  And when it is, how do we face it?

There’s no perfect answer to that question, but this passage does give us two vital clues, two great comforts: the first is that only the Lord knows the end of every story.  We know the beginning, maybe the middle – but the Lord knows the end.  God acts for his glory, and that of his Son (v4), and he orchestrates our lives ‘that you may believe’ (v15).  So often we can look back and see the hand of God at work, in ways we couldn’t appreciate at the time.  Not always as dramatic as in the case of Lazarus, but definite threads of grace and blessing, even in seasons of suffering and trial.

The second is that we have a Light to guide us.  Jesus draws a contrast between walking in ‘this world’s light’ and stumbling in the darkness (vv9-10) – but he’s not just talking about sunlight.  He is the true Light of the world, and this light is available to all his followers, even if we can only see a few steps ahead at certain points in time.

Ultimately, seasons of trial and suffering call us to trust – in God’s purposes, in His goodness, in his Light.  For some of us reading today, we find ourselves in such a place.  I invite all of us to pray for those facing such times.  And if that’s you, our passage ends with a beautiful invitation: Jesus turns to his friends and invites them to go with him.  Jesus is calling you to trust, to go with him: will you go?

Monday 5th January – John 11:1-5 ‘The one Jesus loves’

I wonder what you feel about T-shirts with messages?  It’s very much a ‘marmite’ thing: some people love them, others loathe them.  I’m old enough to remember the phase many years ago when it was common to get back to school after the summer holidays and see a number of people walking around with following emblazoned on their front: ‘My friend went to [insert holiday destination] and all (s)he brought me back was this lousy T-shirt.’  Thankfully I never had the pleasure, though I’ve often been partial to wearing certain brand names (purely for market research purposes), and do own football shirts, which rarely avoid advertising something.

How about this one, though: a few years ago, I listened to a church leader describing the T-shirt he really wanted to own – it said, ‘Jesus loves you’ on the front; and on the back it said – ‘…but I’m his favourite!’

I’ve no idea if he ever got hold of this garment – but it does beg a very important question: who does Jesus really love?

Today’s passage gives us a clue.  We begin a very famous chapter, one of the most celebrated in the whole of scripture, with one of the most iconic stories: the raising of Lazarus from the dead.  Lazarus, we are told right at the start (v3) is ‘the one you love.’

But not just Lazarus: two verses later, we learn that ‘Jesus loved Martha and her sister…’ (v5).  This, of course, is being written by John, who describes himself regularly as ‘the disciple Jesus loved’. 

It turns out this Jesus loves everyone.  And not just ‘everyone’, as in one big lump of people.  But individuals.  Lazarus.  Martha.  Mary.  John.  You.

You are the disciple Jesus loves.

If you’ve never really taken a moment to think of it like that – take that moment now.  Embrace it.  Soak in it.  Jesus loves, not just all people, but you – with all your flaws, faults, foibles and failings.

This really matters, for so many reasons, not least of which is that life is hard to fathom.  Things happen we don’t or can’t understand.  We’ll look at this in more detail tomorrow, but we get a glimpse of it here (v4): ‘This illness will not end in death,’ Jesus declares to his disciples – and immediately we’re thinking (if we know the story): but it does.  Lazarus does die.  What does Jesus mean?  I don’t understand!

And that’s the point, isn’t it?  There is so much we don’t understand.  But this we do: Jesus loves us.  Each one of us.  You are the disciple Jesus loves.  We can trust all things into his great love.  Let’s do that today, and every day.

Advent: The Nativity, as scripture tells it

Wednesday 24th December, Christmas Eve – John 1:1-14 ‘The Light shines in the darkness’

‘The people walking in darkness have seen a great light…. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.’

We live in dark and anxious times.  Fears for health, for loved ones, for prosperity, for mental wellbeing are all prevalent in hearts and minds this Christmas.  We are not alone in this – such worries are widespread across our world – but they are none the less real for that.

We need the light.

We need light for what it brings to us.  We need light for its perspective.  When the light shines, we see things as they really are.   We see God coming to earth, bringing salvation, bringing hope and healing, bringing love, authority and wisdom.  We see the dawn of redeeming grace – God’s great rescue plan put into operation.

May God grant us grace to see life again as it really is, infused with the light of God’s coming into the world.

We need the light for the warmth that it brings.  In ancient societies all forms of light generated measurable heat.  And the light of Christmas is not just something to stand and admire, or to gaze upon.  When Jesus comes, he promises his very presence, here in our hearts.  ‘Behold I am with you always, to the very end of the age.’  The light of the world brings us warmth: intimacy with God, the chance to discover unexpected peace in our hearts, and praise on our lips.

May God grant us grace to welcome the light of his presence in our hearts, and be warmed by his love and peace.

We need the light to be guided on right paths.  So much of what happens we can’t control at the moment.  But if we can’t change the world, we can change the world in us.  We can still be bringers of light to others, we can still share grace and peace with those around us, we can choose the quietly radical path of peace-making and joy-bringing in the small places where we do have an influence.

May God grant us grace to be guided by light, that we might be bringers of light to others.

We may still wish things were different.  And that’s normal and natural.  I do, too.  But can I encourage us all to look in two directions this season.  Firstly to look down, into the face of God lying in that manger, and see that hope still lives on in the world.  And then to look up, towards the light – the light which shines in the darkness, and still shines – and the darkness does not overcome it.

And may God’s light shine in our hearts, our homes, our families, our nation, and our world this Christmas.  Amen.

Tuesday 23rd December – Matthew 2:9-12  ‘They opened their treasures’

Our best wedding present was in many ways the most unlikely.  Like most couples we’d received a lot of wonderful gifts to start a new home.  Shortly after we’d arrived back from honeymoon we received one final gift, which came in an unmarked brown cardboard box, wrapped up with brown parcel tape.   For those of you who like bows, tags and hospital corners on your wrapped edges, this would have given you palpitations.  What on earth was it?

However, when we opened it (with some difficulty), we discovered inside a beautiful crystal lamp – like a larva lamp only much prettier – and an amazing poem written specially for us and our wedding.  It was a unique gift: in fact, two unique gifts, both of which were among the best we’d ever received, and from the same dear friend. 

The theme of unusual but well-chosen gifts sits at the heart of our reading for today.  I guess if you’re going to trek 600 miles across the world, you’d better bring something with you.  And as the Magi finally get to meet the new king they’d come so far to see, and after they had knelt in his presence in worship, it was time to crack open the chest and offer the (now obligatory) baby shower presents.

Much is made of the meaning of the presents and their prophetic significance: gold for a king, frankincense for an offering to God, myrrh foreshadowing what Jesus came to do i.e. his sacrificial death.  And that’s all true – we can interpret the outline of Jesus’ life and ministry purely from those extraordinary treasures.  But today, let’s observe very simply that these were unexpected gifts.  After all, there was no reason to assume that this unknown king needed any more gold; frankincense was for priests, not kings; and myrrh was the equivalent of bringing a food-poisoning testing kit to a dinner party.

But God used those unexpected gifts, and did something wonderful with them.  And not just as a prophetic sign: the gold probably kept the family alive as they fled into exile.  Frankincense might have helped sustain their home prayer life as they left behind the familiar festivals and rituals of their home country.  And myrrh could remind them of their unusual visitors and the greater sense that God was up to something special.

This Christmas some of us will share fewer gifts than usual.  That is rightly a cause of sadness and regret.  But let’s take heart from today’s story and pray instead that we would give and receive unexpected gifts.  Anything offered to Jesus can be used for his glory.  What treasures might you open as you worship the newborn king?

Monday 22nd December – Matthew 2:3-8  ‘Greatly disturbed’

In February each year, the charity Open Doors publishes its World Watch List.  This constitutes the 50 countries where it is most dangerous to be a Christian – places where it is not just frowned upon but actually illegal to convert or own a bible, and where persecution is commonplace.  Sadly, the list could be longer than 50, and the levels of danger experienced by Christians have risen sharply in many places over the last 20 years. 

Whilst many of these countries will point to a clash of religious cultures as the root of this issue, in other places it is much more overtly political.  No matter that most Christians are peace-loving, servant-hearted, and in many other respects model citizens: hardworking, clean living, law-abiding. Power corrupts, and there are many ‘powers’ across the world who hate the idea that any of their citizens might ultimately worship a different boss.  Or indeed that they might themselves be answerable to a Higher Power.

This insecurity in the face of the Lordship of Christ is nothing new.  It started right from his birth.  As the Magi enter the court of puppet King Herod, propped up by the Romans and every bit as venal and ruthless as popular history makes him out to be, news of a new king, a true king, is not welcome.

Herod has already executed several members of his own family, including his wife Mariamne, in the paranoid belief that this will help him cling on to power.  To have foreign travellers journeying hundreds of miles to worship someone else right on his doorstep is frankly horrifying, and yet another threat to his rule.

We love to read the prophecies of the coming Messiah, one of which is quoted in today’s reading.  They stir the heart and fire the imagination.  But Herod’s response sets another, more sobering context for these prophecies.  They never come in a vacuum.  A new source of authority threatens the old order, however radically different this new authority might be.

Today let’s pray for just and godly leadership around the world – we need it as much as ever.  And let’s also give thanks for the freedoms we still enjoy, whilst praying blessing and protection for our brothers and sisters around the world who face similar dangers to those faced by the Magi and the Holy Family.  May the joy of the Lord be our – and their – strength today.

Sunday 21st December – Matthew 2:1-2 (ii)  ‘We saw his star’

On this day (21st December) in 2020, the two largest planets in the solar system, Jupiter and Saturn, aligned so closely to one another in the sky that they appeared to be fused into a single point of light.

Although the trajectories of these planets come close to one another every twenty years or so, to be aligned within a tenth of a degree is something that hasn’t been seen for at least 400 years, and probably longer.  Although it may possibly have been visible in 1623, the last time this event is believed to have actually been witnessed by human observers was in the year 1226, on a certain day before dawn, which afforded about ninety minutes to see it before the sun rose.

Even more remarkably, there also has been speculation among scholars that the conjunction of these planets formed the very Star of Bethlehem quoted in today’s reading that inspired the Magi on their journey.  A possible date can be calculated which falls close to the year of Jesus’ birth.

We can’t say for sure – and sadly the weather a year ago was typically British forecast, i.e. cloudy –  so we Brits didn’t get a glimpse.  But even so, isn’t it amazing that it’s still possible to witness an astrological phenomenon which connects us directly to the story of Jesus’ birth!

We’ll never know this side of heaven; but what we do know is that this phenomenon – whatever it was – so profoundly moved our intrepid travellers that they were willing to stake their time and reputations on following it.  And this despite it relating to a ‘foreign’ religion in a faraway country.

I sometimes hear people bemoan the diversity of belief in Britain today.  I wonder if rather we should celebrate the fact that many more people around us are spiritual searchers, hungry to connect with eternity.  They may sometimes look for it in unusual places, to say the least.  But, like the Magi, our response is surely to point all seekers towards the real Way, Truth and Life. 

God honoured the spiritual hunger of Persian astrologers, and marvellously brought them into his story.  And so should we.  Perhaps you consider yourself a seeker in a similar way.  Or perhaps you are confident in your beliefs.  Either way, God loves those who seek after him.  He longs for all of us to become part of his story.  Wise men and wise women still follow the star towards Jesus.

Saturday 20th December – Matthew 2:1-2  ‘Magi came….’

‘We three kings of Orient are, bearing gifts we traverse afar…’

The image of the Wise Men or Kings is so iconic that it’s etched into most of our minds.  Three elegant travellers, dressed in fine richly-coloured robes, perched on majestic camels, striding across the desert, with a large train of servants.  There’s usually the star up above (more on that tomorrow), and a few romantically undulating desert hills in the background. 

It’s a wonderful image, with more than a whiff of blarney about it.  For a start, they weren’t kings.  The word used to describe them is Magus (plural Magi): these were originally Persian priests or even sorcerers – it’s where we get the word ‘magician’ from.  More broadly you could translate it as ‘scholar’.  So, probably wealthy, certainly clever – but not kings. 

There may well have been more than three of them too – we only assume there were three because they gave three gifts.  But allowing for ‘group offerings’ there could have been any number… there might even have been just two, one of whom was particularly generous!

And they probably avoided the desert.  Rather than go direct across the Arabian sands from Iran or Iraq to Israel (and almost certainly die in the attempt), they would have gone north-west round the so-called Fertile Crescent – adding a good 200 miles to their journey, but saving their lives in the process.

The image of a dozen magicians travelling through scrubland isn’t quite as magical (pardon the pun) as the alternative, I’ll give you that.  But there is something much more important going on here.  The extraordinary thing about the nativity story is that the key witnesses are (in the case of the shepherds) ceremonially unclean, and (in the case of the Magi) not even Jewish!  It’s like a play which at first sight appears to have all the wrong people cast in it.

But that’s the point.  When God comes to earth, he comes for everyone.  Smelly shepherds, exotic magicians, teenage mothers, furniture makers – everybody.  The great and the good, as well as the lost, the last and the least.  Every nation, every age, every culture.  The good news of Jesus is truly universal – the Messiah is a Saviour for all of us.

That’s why the Magi matter.  As we travel with them for a few days, let’s be astonished once more by the extraordinary length, breadth and depth of the love of God.  A love which reaches to you too – right here, today.

Friday 19th December – Luke 2:19-20  ‘Mary treasured all these things…’

Just a very short reflection from me today.  I have always been struck by v19, and Mary’s capacity to treasure what she sees and knows.  It is a great gift, and one we have largely lost as a society.  Everything is instant, and we move from one experience or morsel of useful info to the next.

It was the old philosopher Plato who said that: ‘The unreflected life is the unlived life.’  We all need to treasure more.  I certainly do.  To allow ourselves time to dwell on beautiful truths; to root ourselves in things that are solid and permanent; to drink deep of profound experiences. 

Mary was perhaps privileged to share more than most.  But her simple lesson lives on, and is pure gold.  Here’s to treasuring.

Give yourself a few minutes to reflect and pray on this question: what will you ‘treasure’ today?

Thursday 18th December – Luke 2:15-18  ‘They hurried off…’

Just before Christmas a couple of years ago, I almost lost our car.  I arrived for a school event at All Saints and parked up as the children were rounding the corner on the redway about a minute’s walk from the church.  Although I was mostly set up already, I had about two minutes of final preparations to do.  I grabbed my kit from the boot, waved to the class, asked the teacher to hold them at the gate for two minutes, and hurried into the church.  As it happened, I left the car key in the boot lock, on show for all to see.

A couple of hours later, as I was finishing another meeting after the school had gone, a very kind local family popped into church asking if anyone had left their key in the boot-lock of a blue car.  That was, of course, me.  Thanking them profusely I retrieved the key, grateful that we lived in a safe and neighbourly area!

When events overtake us, and we have to act quickly, it’s easy do things like that.  For the shepherds in our story, the golden rule was: ‘Never leave your sheep.’  Sheep were precious, and vulnerable to rustlers and predators alike.  And yet here we find them doing just that: hurrying away from the fields and into town.  Risking their livelihoods, and their reputation.

For good reason, it turns out.  They were on their way to visit the king!  And they, of all people, had been chosen to do just that. To be first on the scene.  To represent humanity offering its worship and praise to the child in the manger.  God had come down, and they had the ringside seats.

I imagine, in that moment, their business was the last thing on their minds.  When God meets with us, we crave more of his presence. Something keeps drawing us back.  We want to meet Jesus again, and again.

The shepherds are a great part of the story.  They are people like us, and do things like we do.  At least they had a heavenly host as their excuse, rather than thirty 5 and 6 year-olds.  But their hearts had been ‘strangely warmed’ – they were filled with the excitement of God’s intervention in their lives.  They got to meet Jesus – ordinary people caught up in an extraordinary story.

That is our privilege too.  God is still meeting ordinary people.  Often in unexpected ways.  Always to draw us into his presence, and towards worship, hope and peace.  May God meet with us this Advent, as he did the shepherds.  And may it too cause us to ‘hurry’ once more to meet  Jesus, and worship the new-born king.

Wednesday 17th December – Luke 2:13-14  ‘The heavenly host’

We live in a spiritual world.  Yes, it’s material and physical as well – but we are also spiritual beings, able to connect with spiritual realities.  We don’t necessarily see those realities very often, but we remain attuned to it. Even in our secular culture, the continuing fascination with ghosts, horoscopes, superstitions and the like, while misguided, remind us that we are spiritual beings.  We are made to make spiritual connections, one way or another.

Today’s reflection is a counterpart to day 15.  There we affirmed that a real God comes for real people.  God enters our flesh-and-blood world, as a flesh-and-blood human.  He laughs, he cries, he feels pain.  It is earthy, grounded.

But let’s beware making this amazing story all (or only) about this world.  There is a spiritual reality to all this too.  Heaven is real, and is populated by created spiritual beings – generally referred to as angels, though this broad term covers a number of words which might refer to different types of spiritual being. 

The word angel itself means ‘messenger’ – their job is to do God’s bidding, and, throughout history, Christian theology affirms that they do interact with our physical world.  The nativity story is, of course, a key moment in this interaction, full of angelic activity – first Zechariah, then Mary, then Joseph, and now the shepherds.

What is the significance of all this?  In essence, heaven comes to earth.  The spiritual realm connects with our physical existence in new and deeper ways.   It’s not just Jesus – it’s the whole machinery of heaven.  Here the heavenly host appear in the sky – the shepherds were uniquely blessed to see them, and we can only imagine what that sight must have been like.

We are sometimes tempted to imagine that heaven is kind of empty, until humans are reconciled to God and able to fill it.  But this passage reminds us that heaven is pretty full already!  Angels abound, praising God eternally.   And the amazing truth is that we get invited into that.  One day, we’ll join the fantastic heavenly party.

But it’s not just ‘for later’, it starts well before that: whenever we worship God here, we are joining in with the eternal song of heaven, joining heaven with earth in our praises.  And one day, we will get to do that forever.  Glory to God in the highest, and peace to his people on earth!

Tuesday 16th December – Luke 2:8-12  ‘There were shepherds…’

A young man sits round an open fire at night, warming his hands and dreaming of revolution.  He needs to think to stay awake – his job means that he can’t afford to fall asleep.  By the standards of the time he’s not particularly religious: can’t afford to be, his work consumes all hours, and he’s too much of a scruffbag to show his face on Saturday at the synagogue.  His life is here, out in the open – just him, his friends and his animals.

But all the same, he dreams.  The current lot that rule his small nation are much better than most of the previous ones, who were far more corrupt and far less competent.  He’s heard tales of the terrors inflicted by tyrants of old.  But even so, they’re not his people.  And one day, his God, Yahweh – the one true God of the universe, the Lord of Lords and King of Kings – will ensure that they are free once more.  He’s read the prophets, he’s heard the preachers.  And still he dreams, of victory and freedom and prosperity.  Of planting vines and sitting under them in summer.

His head starts to nod – he feels sleepy.  He pinches himself: ‘Not tonight, old son, not tonight…’

And then – LIGHT!  Glorious, brilliant light.  His mates are terrified – he pretends not to be, but really he is just as scared too.  What is this?  An angel??  You’ve got to be kidding….

Did someone just say good news?  The Messiah is coming?  After all these centuries?  Never mind 30 years of hurt – how about 500?  Really?  Coming – now?

Oh yes.  And what’s more, you can see him.  Just head into town – listen for the cries of a newborn bedded in with the animals.  Just like you lot, really.  Born to be a shepherd.

Imagine that.  The divine shepherd visits us human shepherds, telling us to go and visit a newborn shepherd lying there with the animals.  He really is one of us!  Not just another posh tyrant: a normal lad, who lives like we do.  Come on lads!   Let’s go and take a butcher’s….

Good news: God comes as one of us.  He meets those who are keeping watch, waiting for him.  We don’t always dream the right things – or perhaps we do, but in the wrong way or for the wrong reasons.  But God is gracious.  He comes anyway. 

Keep watch.  Good news is coming.

Monday 15th December – Luke 2:5-7  ‘The time came…’

And so we get to the crucial moment in the story – Jesus is born!  Most of us know the story inside out… or at least we’re fairly sure we do.

Images of how the nativity happens are so full of our minds, it’s almost impossible to imagine it any other way.  We’ve seen it so many times:  Joseph and Mary travelling down to Bethlehem with Mary on a donkey (even though a donkey is never mentioned).  Arriving late, with Mary’s contractions already starting.  Joseph frantically dashing around trying to find an inn or guest house with a spare room.  The last B&B in town offering them access to their stable just as Mary’s contractions get too severe to go any further…. a ‘modesty time gap’ fast forwards us a couple of hours to see Jesus in the wooden manger, with an exhausted but blissful Mary sat next to him, gazing lovingly at Jesus and then Joseph in turn…

And it’s possible that this is how it went.  Unlikely, but possible!  And it’s a much better story than the more likely one: that, given the length of journey, Joseph and Mary travelled down several weeks earlier and stayed with relatives in Bethlehem.  That they shared the single living area with these relatives for the time they stayed there, only relocating into the other adjoining room – small Palestinian houses of that time had two rooms joined together: one for people, the other for animals –  to offer some privacy for Mary when it was time for her to give birth.  That the female relatives would therefore probably have been with Mary for the birth, rather than Joseph, who probably joined them shortly after Jesus was born, like most fathers of the time would have done.  That the makeshift bedding arrangement of the animals feeding trough (manger) was likely made of stone, not planks of wood.

It’s much less romantic, isn’t it?  A planned visit, a stay with relatives, decent midwifery, stone bedding furniture. 

But it’s real.

And that’s the point.  The nativity is not a fairy story, but a gritty, real-life drama.  A real baby is born into a real family with a real home and real problems.  In other words, when God comes to earth, this is a real God for real people.  People like Joseph and Mary.  People like you and me.

We like the fantasy version – it’s visually much more appealing, and allows us to put tea towels on our heads with impunity for a couple of weeks.  But let’s never miss the real joy of this scene: a real baby is born – a real Messiah for real people.  ‘And he is called Emmanuel’ – God with us.  Amen.

Sunday 14th December – Luke 2:1-4  ‘Our plans, God’s plans’

If you’ll allow a brief return to a day we’d probably rather forget: on 23rd March 2020, the UK entered a full national lockdown for the first time in 100 years.  One immediate effect of this was that all church buildings were shut.  No services of any sort could be held.  What would happen to God’s Church? 

From the very beginning, our pattern of faith has been built around physical gatherings – the very word ‘church’ is derived from the Greek word meaning ‘assembly’.  Understandably there was considerable fear – yet in mid-April 2020, a survey of UK residents indicated that 25% of the population had accessed an online act of Christian worship within the last month.   Given that the equivalent face-to-face figure for average monthly in-person attendance is around 10%, this was astonishing news. 

Humans decide, God acts.  So often things that might seem to be problems only unleash a new work of God in different ways.   It took the forced shutting of our buildings by the current government to unleash a mighty new wave of mission that reached millions of people – and whilst 2021 has been immensely challenging for many churches, some of the ways we adapted continue to bear fruit: after all, you’re reading this on the church website right now!

God is not ‘apart’ from what happens on earth.  He might give us freedom, but equally God is so great he is well able to use the calculated decisions of human leaders and authorities to achieve his purposes.  In today’s reading, Caesar wants to raise money from taxing the populations he ruled – it is what powerful people have done since time immemorial.  But in the midst of the process, God resolved a conundrum written into the biblical prophets for hundreds of years.  How would the Messiah come from both Galilee and Bethlehem? 

The answer – a census, at just the right time in history when fading Greek power nevertheless left the legacy of widespread use of the Greek language, allowing easy communication between people and therefore sharing of ideas/messages; when recently upgraded Roman infrastructure allowed the easy movement of people to spread a new message; and, crucially when a young descendent of King David had to travel from Galilee to Bethlehem with his young, heavily pregnant wife.

It doesn’t matter whether Caesar would have made the decision to tax anyway. The point is that God used it to birth something – someone – remarkable, that would change the world and the course of history. 

God is good.  God is also great.  Let’s commit ourselves again today into the mighty and merciful hands of this amazing God.  The future once again seems uncertain: let’s continue to trust in his capacity to achieve his good purposes in all circumstances.

Saturday 13th December – Luke 1:67-80  ‘The great rescue’

On this day in 2018, the writer C.J. English published the bestselling book ‘Rescue Matters’.  It charts the astonishing story of Keith Benning, who, using his own garage to house those rescued and with just a small team of volunteers, over four years rescued 4,000 dogs from terrible situations: unwanted, starving, mistreated.  As the subtitle summarises: ‘An incredible true story of rescue and redemption.’

Today’s passage looks forward to another incredible true story of rescue and redemption – only this time, it’s our own.  If Mary’s song describes the Great Reversal, Zechariah’s could be called The Great Rescue.

Rescue images are studded through the text of Zechariah’s song, but the literal and metaphorical centre is v74, which uses the word directly.  And it promises a rescue in three dimensions:

From our enemies – for the Israelites of the time, that would mean the Romans and other nations around them, but for us today we might cast the net wider towards everything that stops us from enjoying the relationship with God that we were designed to have.  It could be summarised as sin and death – our ultimate enemies – but might be anything that has a poisonous effect on our spiritual lives.  God’s purpose is that we should be free, and the coming Messiah will rescue us from these enemies.

From fear – since time immemorial, humans have feared God.  And there is something wise about that: God is God and we are not.  But we were made for more than fear – we were made for love.  God wants us to love him as he loves us – and, as St John says later, there is no fear in love.

For righteousness – it’s not just what we’re rescued from, it’s what we’re rescued for.  The life we were made to have, living God’s way.  To be holy is to be set apart, called to something better.  Like Keith Benning’s dogs it’s not enough just to save us from death, but to lead us into life, to a true home, to wellbeing and wholeness.

This is what the Messiah comes to do!  It is a story of redemption (v68), salvation (v71), mercy (v72), faithfulness (v72-73), wisdom (v77), light and peace (v79).

This is our story.  The new baby John would grow up to declare it.  And, thanks be to God, we get to live it.  The great rescue is a story that hasn’t finished yet.  Let’s pray that, this Christmas, others may find the joy of knowing and receiving this Great Rescue.

Friday 12th December – Luke 1:56-66  ‘His name is John’

I don’t know about you, but it’s not easy to name a child.  It was a bit more straightforward with our first child Amelie, but for our second, we spent weeks batting around various names.  We didn’t know if it was going to be a boy or a girl, so we had to have at least one of each.  All kinds of options were discussed: at one point for a girl we had ‘Raymonda Ping’ on the shortlist – well, the longlist. 

In the end we settled on Isaac for a boy and Charis for a girl.  One means ‘laughter’ and the other means ‘grace’.  That worked for us.  And we got laughter.

We return today to Zechariah, who has been mute for 9 months after his debacle with the angel in day 5.  And names come to the fore again.  In this case, Zechariah and Elizabeth face strong encouragement to stick with tradition and name the new baby boy after his dad.  But Elizabeth is having none of it: so they turn to Zechariah for his view.

And, with the help of a convenient tablet – not that kind of tablet – he writes four simple words, which in one moment restores both his voice and his relationship to God: ‘His name is John.’

John – the child promised by the angel, the name given by God, the declaration that a new work of God was on its way.  ‘John’ means ‘God is gracious’, which is spot on.  Gracious to Elizabeth.  Gracious to God’s people.  Gracious to a waiting world.

Gracious to us as well.  John comes to herald the arrival of God’s grace in all its fullness.  A Messiah who sacrifices himself to win our forgiveness and freedom.  To reconcile to himself all things, by making peace through the blood of his cross. To draw us back into the loving arms of Almighty God.

Grace.  What Philip Yancey calls ‘the last, best word of the English language’: nothing we can do will make God love us more.  Nothing we can do will make God love us less.  The beating heart of our faith, and what inspires faith in our beating heart.

And it’s all in a name.

His name is John.  May his name’s meaning be ours too. 

‘Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.  I once was lost, but now am found; was blind, but now I see.’  Amen.

Thursday 11th December – Luke 1:46-55 ‘The great reversal’

Blessed are the self-sufficient, for they will never need help from God, or anyone else.  Blessed are those who have no problems, for they will avoid pain and discomfort.  Blessed are the assertive, for they will usually get what they want.  Blessed are those who don’t want to be too good, for they will avoid moral dilemmas.  Blessed are those who know their rights, for they will usually get what they want.  Blessed are the cynical, for they know how life really works.  Blessed are the competitive, for they will win out more often.  Blessed are those who follow the crowd, for they will avoid unpopularity and blame.

Who is really blessed in this life?  The list above – the ‘anti-beatitudes’ – might sound like a fairly blunt summary of modern culture: but to be honest it could have been written at most times in history.  Life is full of winners and losers – and it’s best, on the whole, to be one of the winners.

But what if God sees it differently?  In today’s famous passage, as Mary bursts into song, we see another dynamic at work.  Maybe it’s not the ‘winners’ who prevail after all.  God’s intervention will reverse the natural order of things.  The humble are lifted up and the rulers are brought low (v52); the hungry are filled and the rich sent away empty (v53).  God’s mercy extends to those who fear him (v50), but the proud are scattered in their inmost thoughts (v51).

The kingdom of Christ is the great reversal – the world’s values are turned upside down, ‘success’ is redefined, and the marginalised are suddenly at the heart of the story.

And God achieves this, as Mary recognises, not through a birth to a queen in a palace, but to an obscure young mother living in an unfashionable town.  It starts how it intends to go on.

Thirty years later, someone else stood on the side of a hill and declared: ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, the hungry, the merciful, the pure, the peacemakers, the persecuted….’  Or to put it another way: blessed are the losers in this world, for they are the winners in the kingdom of God.

This is great news to all of us who have ever wished we were more than we are.  Who’ve failed, or fell down, or felt low.  Who wished we were louder, or richer, or funnier, or more popular, or more clever.   God is for you – yes, you.  This God is not interested in status or self-assurance.  This God lifts up the humble, feeds the hungry and showers his mercy and love on all who know they haven’t got it all together – as Brennan Manning beautifully put it: ‘weak, unsteady disciples, whose cheese is falling off their cracker.’  People like us.

Today, give thanks and claim afresh the love of this God – it’s for people like us that Jesus came.

Wednesday 10th December – Luke 1:39-45  ‘Blessed are you’

Shared experience is a powerful thing.  So much of what binds us together as humans lies in what we can share – in a sense, we were made for it.  It is particularly powerful when people who have experienced similar challenges or opportunities find comfort and inspiration in each other.

In today’s passage we see such a meeting.  Mary ‘hurries’ to see Elizabeth, and although they find themselves at opposite ends of their journey in life – one is very young, the other very old – they find themselves in the same unusual situation: that of an unexpected pregnancy, and the enormous life-changes that will bring.

One senses that this is the main reason for Mary to visit Elizabeth.  Whilst it would be common for relatives – especially female relatives – to pay their respects upon hearing of a new pregnancy, Mary needs to go somewhere, anywhere, that she feels safe, where she can share all her deepest hopes and fears with someone who gets it, who understands.

And there is a good deal of healing in this encounter.  Elizabeth already seems joyfully reconciled to her new reality, praising God as early as v25 of Luke’s narrative.  However, Mary’s position is more ambiguous.  When the angel first visits, she is ‘greatly troubled’ (v29).  By the end of the encounter she shows remarkable faith and composure in receiving and believing the angel’s word (v38), but her emotions are veiled – at least not that Luke records.  It is only in the company of this wise old mentor and friend that she is finally able truly to embrace her calling, and to burst out in a song of great joy – now known to us as the Magnificat, and the subject of tomorrow’s reading.

It is surely significant that Elizabeth’s first words to Mary are ‘Blessed are you…!’  It might have been the first time that Mary heard it put like that.  The Messiah would bless the world, of course – but bless her?  It probably didn’t feel like ‘blessing’ at that moment: the scandal, the disgrace, the fear for her own and her family’s safety.  Elizabeth’s divinely inspired utterance enables her to see it in a new light – God was blessing her, too.

Perhaps we too have faced – or are facing – great challenges, and have wondered where God is in the midst of it.  It is hard to cling on to faith and trust in those times.  And we may never get a complete answer this side of heaven.  But today’s story encourages us to dare to hope that, somehow, God is in what we face, and that he can bring good out of it. 

May we too, like Mary, have courage to receive Elizabeth’s words, this acclamation of God’s healing presence with us in all things: ‘Blessed are you…’    And may the Lord grant us grace to trust again that he always fulfils his promises.

Tuesday 9th December – Matthew 1:22-25  ‘He did as commanded’

It’s always a lovely surprise when you hear about people with unexpected gifts.  Friends you thought you knew suddenly appear in a different light, as they manifest some striking creative ability, or describe an unusual hobby.  People never fail to surprise you!

I often feel the same way about Joseph, as he is described in the nativity story.  In many respects Joseph comes across as a conventional character – honest, hardworking, keen to observe the law.  A pillar of the community, you might say. 

And yet, below the surface beats an equally remarkable heart as that of his more celebrated bride.  It was no small thing to choose to live with the ongoing scent of scandal, the whispers in an insular village of being a cuckold – to stick by Mary, come what may, and fashion a stable family home. 

And Joseph also had a hidden gift – he was unusually sensitive to the Holy Spirit.  No less than four times he receives divine instruction through a dream – only his Old Testament namesake with the multi-coloured dreamcoat receives significant dreams as often as this Joseph (1:20, 2:13, 2:19, 2:22).

These dreams dramatically affect the course of his life, and those around him – he marries Mary, flees to Egypt with his young family, returns to Israel a few years later and then settles in Galilee.  But what is often overlooked is the very simple observation that Joseph acted upon these revelations.  He believed that God had spoken, and he obeyed.  Each time he does exactly what has been revealed to him in the dream.

We may not receive such striking revelations – although I’m frequently surprised by how many ‘ordinary’ people tell me about significant dreams they have received at some point in their lives.  But, whether we do or not, there is a simple two-fold lesson in the story of Joseph: to trust in what God speaks, and to obey.  As the old children’s bible song has it: ‘Trust and obey, for there’s no other way….’

Life is complicated, but in many ways faith is simple: trust God, and try to do what he wants you to do.  As Joseph knew all too well, such childlike trust led him in very unexpected ways.  The life of simple trust is never dull!  But it is the path to intimacy with God.  The more we trust, the more God speaks.  The more God speaks, the more we trust.

Keep saying yes to God.  And our loving God will keep drawing ever closer to you.

Monday 8th December – Matthew 1:18-21  ‘This is how…’

Today we flip from Luke back to Matthew, to allow us to cover the story in broadly chronological order.  Mary is now pregnant, so it’s time for Joseph to enter the picture.  Like Elizabeth, Joseph is another of the great unsung heroes of the text – he is usually pictured as being a frail old man, quite without foundation.   In all probability he was in his late teens or early twenties, marrying the bride arranged for him by his family, as would have been the custom. 

Tomorrow we’ll look at the character of Joseph in more detail, but today, let’s ask a simple question: how does Jesus’ birth come about? 

The natural answer would be to quote the passage from Luke we looked at yesterday – it was a mighty supernatural act of God.  Mary conceives miraculously, confirming the divine ancestry of the Messiah.  And this of course is true.

But there is also another, human answer to that question.  Jesus is born because Joseph and Mary get married anyway, and Jesus has a human family to be born into.  Jesus has an earthly father, too, who likewise receives a divine messenger and the revelation of the new baby’s name (and what it means for the world).

This is so often the way God works.  The divine and the human weave together.  Very occasionally, God does something totally down to him.  But most of the time, God works through our work, our faithfulness, our prayer.  ‘Pray as if everything depends on God: act as if everything depends on you.’  That’s not a bad maxim for the spiritual life – and here we see Joseph and Mary embody it perfectly.

Yes, Jesus is wonderfully and divinely conceived.  But he is still born to human parents, with a real life in a real village.  They make a real journey to Bethlehem, and have to agree on a very real (and hard) choice to wed anyway, despite the circumstances.  And so – praise God! – we have a fully divine and fully human Saviour, born as the result of fully divine and fully human faithfulness.

This is how the birth of Jesus the Messiah came about.

It’s also how most of the work of God in our own life and times comes about too.  We co-operate with God’s plans – we pray for them, obey them and see God work through our faithfulness. 

Where is God at work in you presently?  Pray today for wisdom, courage and resolve to co-operate fully with whatever God is up to.  This is how God’s marvellous work comes about.

Day 7: 7th December – Luke 1:34-38  ‘No word ever fails’

‘How will this be?’  It’s not a bad question to ask, is it?  You’ve just received some of the most extraordinary – and shocking – news anyone could imagine.  Perhaps as you’ve read today’s passage, you found yourself remembering such a time in your own life, when you received news it was hard to take in.  And Mary asks a natural follow-up: but what’s striking in her reply is that she doesn’t question the fact of it, only the process.  

This is in stark contrast to Zechariah earlier.  He asks: ‘How can I be sure?’ (i.e. ‘…that what you’re saying is true?’)  Mary doesn’t doubt the message, only the method.  And her faith is rewarded with a direct answer from the angel.

The text doesn’t tell us what she felt emotionally after receiving this visitation.  The hundreds of portrayals of this scene in art through the ages tend to reflect the values of the society of the time.  Mediaeval paintings picture her receiving it demurely, like a good lady of the court.  Modern versions tend to emphasise the emotional shock and even pain, reflecting our more therapeutic culture.

In some ways, this is good – it means that we see Mary as fundamentally one of us – a real human being.  And yet, we can so easily read into her response what she ‘must’ have felt.  Luke cleverly avoids such guessing.  Instead he tells us simply that Mary accepted the word, whatever it would cost: ‘I am the Lord’s servant…. may your word to me be fulfilled.’ (v38)

It is a remarkable encounter – and at its heart is a remarkable young woman showing even more remarkable faith.  This single scene changes the course of history, and in its turn transforms this anonymous young villager into the most famous woman in history.  Lady Di might have been photographed more often, but nobody has been captured more in art and literature over the course of 2,000 years.  I do wonder what Mary herself would have made of that.

But let’s close with a glorious affirmation: God’s word never fails (v37).  It didn’t fail for Mary – it doesn’t fail for us, too.  The bible is full of promises – and ‘all of them are yes in Christ Jesus’ (2 Corinthians 1:20).  Because God’s word never fails, we can say ‘yes’ to God’s love, to his salvation, to God’s gift of the Spirit to dwell in our hearts, bringing peace that passes understanding, joy that gives us strength, and hope in times of trial. 

Christ comes into the world as the fulfilment of God’s word – today let’s spend a few moments reading any one of our favourite passages and choosing to rejoice in those promises again.  ‘For no word from God will ever fail.’

Day 6: 6th December – Luke 1:26-33  ‘What’s in a name?’

Names matter.  They certainly matter in the bible.  A name wasn’t just a parental preference, it was meant to signify something.  We can learn a lot from names.  Take Gabriel, for example.  It means ‘God is my strength’ – a perfect name for an angel.  Mighty as Gabriel was, he knew where his true strength came from.

Or take Mary as another example: in today’s reading we get the iconic encounter between the angel and the young woman.  The name Mary is most likely from the ancient Egyptian name ‘mry’ meaning ‘beloved’.   Beloved of Joseph, certainly;  but also beloved of God.

So God-is-my-strength meets The Beloved One – and promises a miraculous child.  Not surprisingly, his name is important too.  Jesus means ‘God saves’ – it is the updated version of the Old Testament name Joshua, the great hero of the Israelites who led his people into the promised land.

God was coming to save his people again. Only this time he would do it himself: ‘He will be called the Son of the Most High… his kingdom will never end.’  A greater rescuer, an eternal king. 

Tomorrow we’ll deal with Mary’s shock – and her remarkable faith.  But today let’s rejoice that Jesus lives up to his name.  God saves, and his salvation is glorious.  All the promises to Israel – to the prophets, to those waiting, for generation after generation – are coming to fulfilment.  There is a new way back to God, a new hope for the renewal of our broken world.

‘Nazareth?  Can anything good come from there?!’  So jokes the disciple Nathanael 30 years later (John 1: 46).  Today we have our answer and it is emphatically yes.  The Beloved One is promised the gift of the Messiah – God’s Son, salvation made flesh.  A saviour not just for then, but for now.  A Saviour for you and for me – for the whole world.  It’s all in the name.

And may that beautiful truth lift your heart today. 

Day 5: 5th December – Luke 1:18-25  ‘He has shown his favour’

Poor old Zechariah.  It’s easy to give him a roasting.  All those years waiting hopefully and serving faithfully, and when his big moment comes…

But I wonder if Zechariah is not somewhat more like us than we care to admit.   One of the great pointers to the truthfulness of the bible is that the characters are so much like us.  There’s no massaging of egos or marketing jingo.  The human characters are very… human.   We can see ourselves in them – which reminds us that the God of the bible is a God for people like us.

People like Gideon, the mighty warrior who hides in the shed.  Or Peter, the Rock who blows his mouth off and then runs away. Or, as here, Zechariah who doubted an angel, and temporarily lost his voice because he temporarily lost his trust.

Never is God’s love and mercy more greatly shown than in the people he chooses to use.  Ordinary people, people who mess up and let him down.  People that God gives a second chance to; and a third, and a fourth…

There is redemption in this story for Zechariah – just as there is for you and me.  That’s who God is – and we’ll see Zechariah come good in a few days’ time.

But let’s also celebrate the faithfulness of Elizabeth today – one of the great unsung heroes of the bible.  Mother of the Baptist, woman of faith – and encourager of Mary, who only sings after Elizabeth has welcomed her and prophesied over her.  She may only get half a chapter, but her unique contribution alters the course of history: just as it has been for many people of faith through the ages.  Her ‘appointed time’ was brief but brilliant.

Our God is the God of second chances: for Elizabeth, long after her childbearing years were over; for Zechariah, when their son was born; for us too, whatever falls, foibles, faults and failures we’ve had along the way.

God shows his favour to those who don’t deserve it.  People like us.  Give thanks for that beautiful truth today – and may it cause your heart to sing.

Day 4: 4th December – Luke 1:5-17  ‘Your prayer has been heard’

Most modern tellings of the nativity story begin with the Angel Gabriel appearing to Mary.  But that’s not quite the beginning of the story – not even in Luke’s gospel itself.  Six months before that historic encounter, Gabriel has another divine errand, to an old priest performing his duties at the temple in Jerusalem.

Zechariah was a righteous and blameless man, as was his wife Elizabeth (v6), and their lives were similarly about to be turned upside down, almost as much as Mary’s.  It was another miraculous birth – only this time because of age.  They had never been able to have children, and presumably had long since given up hope.  But they remained faithful, and got on with the day-to-day business of living, and serving their Lord.

And into this pair of quiet lives comes the angel, with an extraordinary promise: ‘Your wife Elizabeth will bear you a son, and you are to call him John’ (v13).

You see, there was one other prophecy in the bible that had to be fulfilled before the Messiah could come.  It was one of the very last words in the Old Testament, given to the prophet Malachi: that Elijah would return first, preparing the way for the Messiah. 

This is the divinely-appointed task that John – later known as The Baptist – would come to do.  That’s why it’s so important that he comes ‘in the spirit and power of Elijah’ (v17), ‘to make ready a people prepared for the Lord’.   John is that ‘voice calling in the wilderness’ (Isaiah 40:3): the herald announcing that the Messiah has come!

So there’s no time to waste – if Angel Gabriel is going to visit Mary, he has to visit John’s would-be parents first.  So he does.

Yesterday we dwelt on the idea that God keeps his promises – which he does again here.  But today let’s feast on this short but profound phrase in v13: ‘Your prayer has been heard.’

What a glorious thought!  That Almighty God, the creator and sustainer of the universal, all- powerful and all-knowing – this God hears our prayers.  He listens, his faced turned towards us, full of love: he knows who we are, and what we’re asking.

Many of us will have prayers we’ve prayed for a long time, just like Zechariah and Elizabeth.  Let’s take heart today and seize this promise with renewed faith: God hears our prayers.  Yes, yours!  And let’s have courage to keep praying them.   God has not forgotten you.

Day 3: 3rd December – Matthew 1:1-17  ‘The divine promise-keeper’

Admit it – you skipped a few lines of today’s reading, didn’t you?  Most people do.  In fact, if I was able to secretly watch your reading time, I might find it was more than a few lines!

The bible is full of genealogies.  Long lists of who begat who, to use the old language – and I’m sure most of you have often wondered what the point of them is.  If the bible is first and foremost a book about God, what can we possibly learn from human family trees?  Those of you who are family history fans might derive a modest interest from this kind of thing, and others of you – you know who you are – are mostly having a chuckle at the funny names, or trying to pronounce some yourself as a personal challenge.  But otherwise, what is the point?

To answer that question you need to go back to the third chapter of the bible – to verse 15 of Genesis chapter 3.  It had all started so well.  A perfect world, and humans in perfect relationship with their Creator…. and then disaster.  The bond broken, the innocence shattered.  A fallen world.

But in the midst of this catastrophe God promises that one day Eve’s offspring would crush the serpent’s head.  You might say that the rest of the bible is The Search for the Serpent Crusher.

And as we read these long lists throughout the Old Testament, generation after generation, we can detect a voice echoing down the ages: ‘where is he? Is he here yet?’  Waiting, waiting. 

And the promises keep growing.  As God speaks and blesses one family in particular, we see a line from Abraham – through Isaac, Jacob and Judah – which carries special hope.  King David came and went, and the promise escalated: one of his descendants would inherit an eternal throne.  Then the prophets weigh in, too: this new king would outstrip anything which had gone before – a new era of peace and justice, a global reach.  Way more than just the serpent’s head!  But still the waiting…

And so we get to the first chapter of the New Testament – Matthew’s gospel.  And now the voice changes – a divine voice answering all those echoes of longing, of faith and perhaps also of doubt: ‘the serpent crusher is here.  I keep my promises.’

Jesus is the Anointed One (i.e. the Messiah or Christ of v1).  Jesus fulfils the promises of global blessing given to Abraham (v2).  Jesus inherits the eternal throne promised to David (v6).  The serpent crusher has come!

It’s big stuff.  Perhaps take a moment to breathe in the enormity of a ‘boring’ family tree.  And more than that, remind yourself of something very simple but incredibly profound: God keeps his promises.  He keeps them to the world, to his people, and also to you.  God keeps his promises to you.  And may that awesome thought lift your heart, and also your faith, today.

Day 2: 2nd December – Micah 5:2-5a  ‘A surprising Shepherd?’

The Advent story is full of surprises.  In many ways we’re so familiar with it, that often those surprises pass us by.  We think of shepherds and angels and wise men and it all seems so… normal.  Which is odd, when you think about it!

Today’s passage from the prophet Micah likewise has its share of surprises.   Any of us who’ve attended traditional carol services over the years will recognise it – the promise that the new king would come from Bethlehem. 

That the town of King David should feature is, we might think, not unexpected.  The great shepherd king would prove the ancestor to an even greater Shepherd who would ‘stand and shepherd his flock in the strength of the Lord’ (v3).  This ruler would transcend even the boundaries of the nation: ‘his greatness will reach to the ends of the earth’ (v4).

But there are hidden surprises here.  The first is that prophecies of the new king’s birth refer both to God honouring Galilee in the north of the country (in Isaiah), and also Bethlehem in the south (here in Micah).  Isaiah and Micah were contemporaries – one was of noble rank and lived at the court, one lived in relative poverty and obscurity away from the corridors of power.   How would this conundrum be resolved? 

God’s solution is simple, but beautiful: Mary and Joseph lived in Nazareth (in Galilee), but had to travel to Joseph’s ancestral hometown (Bethlehem) to pay Caesar’s poll tax.  Galilee and Bethlehem – both prophecies fulfilled without contradiction.

The second surprise is that Bethlehem was chosen at all.  It may have been linked to King David, but in other respects it was a small, insignificant place.  Its name means ‘house of bread’, and its main business was to live up to its name – it provided the capital city of nearby Jerusalem with corn, and also lambs for sacrifice. 

Centuries later, the new ruler prophesied by Micah – the one born in ‘the house of bread’ – would stand up and declare to the world: ‘I am the bread of life.’  This Great Shepherd would himself become the ‘lamb of God that takes away the sins of the world.’ You never really get away from the place of your birth.

God knew what he was doing when Bethlehem was chosen.  As we spend the next three weeks on our annual pilgrimage to the stable situated in ‘the house of bread’, may we too be fed daily by the Bread of Life, and fall in adoration before the Lamb of God.  Bethlehem is just the beginning…

Day 1: 1st December – Isaiah 7:14  ‘God with us’

God with us.  That’s really the whole ball game, isn’t it?  Over the next 24 days, as we prepare ourselves in this season of Advent, we’ll tell the ageless story afresh, and we’ll marvel again at the wonder of it all: the angels, the shepherds, the wise men, the journey to Bethlehem, a young carpenter and his pregnant wife, the stable and that glorious Christmas night.

But, in all the beauty and mystery of what is to come, nothing really summarises it better than this one word which begins our journey: Emmanuel.  God with us. 

It was always the plan.  God is not a distant deity, who winds the clock up and observes passively while it runs.  God is a ‘with’ kind of God at the very core of his being.  It begins as God with himself: ‘the Word was with God’ (John 1:1) as the Spirit hovered over the waters (Genesis 1:2) – a Trinity of love.

Then God with humanity, as originally intended.  Humans made in his image, knowing true intimacy with each other, and with their Creator.  And the Lord comes walking into Eden in the cool of the day to spend time with Adam and Eve, only to find the barriers up, and the pattern dislocated.

After that time, we are no longer with God – but even so, not everyone gets the memo.  King David, among others down the centuries, knew what it was like to experience God’s presence: ‘I will fear no evil, for you are with me.’ (Psalm 23:4)

Somehow the promise never goes away, never disappears for good.   God would be with us – in a new way, for all time.  It would take a miracle – the Virgin birth – but it would surely come to pass.

And seven centuries later, it does.  God comes down to earth.  God with us as never before.  And this divine Son grows up to utter this great promise: ‘My Spirit will be with you…. Abide in me.’  God with us for all time.

There so much we can say about what the Christmas story means.  But let’s start here – and maybe let’s finish here, too.  God is with us.  May this beautiful, intimate, faithful God be with you today, and throughout this season.  And may this stir all of our hearts to joy and adoration.  O come, o come Emmanuel.

August 2025 – The Book of Philippians

A journey through this wonderful letter of St Paul, over 13 days:

Thursday 21st August – Philippians 4:10-23  ‘All this through him’

In the long winter months we need a bit of enjoyable nonsense on the telly.  Hard-hitting dramas for the bright days of summer – in the winter we tend to prefer escapism.  For us, one of our ‘go to’ programmes in January and February has long been ‘Death in Paradise’.  And yes, the characters are paper thin, and the one-liners pretty weak, but that’s not really the point, is it?  The show is really all about the location (and who doesn’t want to live in that shack on the beach?), and the Agatha Christie-style puzzle to solve, complete with convenient assembly of all characters at the end.

The show works to a fairly consistent formula, but the grand denouement always hinges on one revelation.  The lead detective has a sudden insight, and immediately everything else falls into place – every piece of info, every motive, and the all-important whodunnit.  One clue unlocks all things.

As this wonderful letter to the church in Philippi draws to a close, St Paul talks about his personal circumstances.  He thanks the Philippians for their generosity towards him – the only church for a season to do so (v15).  But he also shares what he calls the ‘secret of contentment’ (v12), regardless of circumstances.   ‘I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’ (v13)

This is one of the best-loved verses in the bible, and it is often misquoted as a formula to achieve the impossible.  But the context here is different, it’s about being content in all circumstances.  Paul happens to be poor at present, but he gives the same advice to anyone who has plenty as well: and that is to find our joy, our satisfaction in Christ.  The key to life is to trust in God’s goodness and God’s provision.  With those in place, we are equipped for whatever life throws at us.

But it struck me that this phrase – ‘all this through him’ – is one that could equally be applied to everything we’ve learnt in this wonderful little book.  Just as one clue unlocks all things in the detective show, so one person – Christ – unlocks all things in the spiritual life. 

As we’ve journeyed through the letter, we’ve seen how, in and through Christ: God will bring all things to completion, including our spiritual journeys (1:6); God will deepen our love with wisdom (1:9-11); God is able to bring fruit even from mixed motives (1:15-18); God is able to sustain us in life, and save us in death (1:21); God is able to exalt those who humble themselves (2:9), and work in us to act according to his will (2:13); God enables us to shine like stars (2:15); God grants us his resurrection power (3:10); God will transform us as citizens of heaven  (3:20-21); God will grant us the peace that passes understanding (4:7).

All things through Jesus.  That’s a pretty good summary, not just of the letter, but of our spiritual lives in general.  It’s all Christ.  And, as the letter closes, Paul reaffirms that this glorious God will continue to meet our needs (4:19) and supply us with his grace (4:23).

So, as we give thanks for all that this lovely little letter has given to us, may God grant us all grace to know ever more deeply that we have all things through Jesus.  And may that cause love and gratitude to overflow in our lives, day by day.  Amen.

Wednesday 20th August – Philippians 4:4-9  ‘In Christ’

I love a good preposition.  They’re the small and apparently insignificant words that hold our language together.  We may give all our attention to the Proper Nouns and high-impact verbs – but it’s the little guys that hold it all together. The words that no-one notices: with, on, of, by, and so on.

This may sound surprising, but prepositions matter in the biblical text, too.  If I was to ask you how you relate to Jesus, what would you say?  Many of us would use the word ‘to’: for example, ‘I’ve come to Jesus.’  Others might use the word ‘for’: such as, ‘I live my life for Jesus’.

Other examples which might come to mind are ‘under’ (everything under Jesus’ rule), ‘before’ (we will all come before Jesus) or even, sadly in some cases, ‘against’.

But there’s a very important little word which doesn’t get as much attention, but is perhaps more important than all of these: and that’s the word ‘in’.  If we are followers of Jesus, we are in Christ.  That is the way the New Testament talks about it.  Not just that Christ is in us (although he is, by his Spirit), but that we are in Christ. 

Once you start looking, you’ll see this small but massively significant phrase everywhere. For example, just flick through the first half of the first chapter of Ephesians and you’ll see it quietly dominates the text – in Greek it’s the word en, and it’s used no less than 11 times in the first 15 verses alone: ‘faithful in Christ’ (v1), ‘every spiritual blessing in Christ’ (v3), ‘chosen in Christ’ (v4), ‘redeemed in Christ’ (v7), ‘purposed in Christ’ (v9), ‘all things in Christ’ (translated ‘under’ in modern translations, but the word is en) (v10), ‘chosen in Christ’ (again, v11), ‘hope in Christ’ (v12), ‘included in Christ’ (v13), ‘marked/sealed in Christ’ (v14), ‘faith in Christ’ (v15).

Interestingly, although we talk a lot about ‘faith in Jesus’, that’s only the last of these 11 mentions.  To be in Christ also brings us all these other fantastic realities: being chosen, having hope, purpose, assurance (‘sealed’), every spiritual blessing… the list goes on.  And it’s all in Christ.

Today’s little passage is one of many people’s favourites.  And there is so much to treasure, so many famous verses to be encouraged by: ‘Rejoice…’, ‘Do not be anxious…’, ‘the peace of God that passes understanding…’, ‘Whatever is lovely or admirable…’, ‘the God of peace will be with you.’  There’s so much to feast on, and I pray that your eyes are drawn to whatever you most need to hear today. 

But let’s not miss this little word ‘in’.  We rejoice in the Lord (v4).  The peace of God guards our hearts and minds in Christ (v7).  We receive all these blessings – peace, joy, answers to prayer – in Christ.  It is our fundamental reality as followers of Jesus.  We inhabit a new and life-giving reality, that of being in Christ, the author of life, who imparts his life and love to us.  Wow!

So don’t miss the little words in these beautiful scriptures – they might just mean the world to you.  And may God, in whom we live and move and have our being, grant us more of that life and love in Christ today.  Amen.

Tuesday 19th August – Philippians 3:17-4:3  ‘Citizens of heaven’

Citizenship has been much in the news in recent years. The fraught debates over our relationship with Europe have thrown up deep questions about who we are, and who we belong to.  Once we left the EU, it’s noteworthy that it was felt necessary to change the colour of our passports (markers of our citizenship) – and somewhat ironic that the powers-that-be decided to abandon the red cover (despite it also being one of our national colours) in favour of blue and gold, the colours of the EU flag!

That makes me chuckle, but it reflects the innate, deep desire to identify as citizens of something.  This principle matters in the spiritual life, too.  The consistent teaching of the New Testament is that when we come to Christ, we effectively have a dual citizenship: we are no longer just citizens of this earth, we are also citizens of the kingdom of heaven.  You might say that we have two passports; and the new one is more important, as today’s passage makes clear: when reflecting on how to live in human society, Paul reminds us that ‘our citizenship is in heaven’ (v20).

But what does that look like?  Paul gives us three useful tips today.  First, we need the right models.  Paul draws a striking contrast between two cultures in verses 17-19: those who live to gratify their mortal desires, and those who live for Christ.  It’s not that we live a disembodied life: some have wrongly taken this passage to mean that all things of this earth are bad, missing the awkward fact that we worship a Saviour who quite clearly enjoyed a party. 

Rather, it’s about what we value, who we worship.  ‘Their god is their stomach,’ reflects Paul about the people he is critiquing.  We are to enjoy the goodness of the earth without being enslaved to it.  Material pleasures are good servants, but lousy masters.

Which brings us to the second tip: we need the right master – in this case: ‘the Lord Jesus Christ’ (v20), who is the one with the real power ‘to transform our lowly bodies so that they will be like his glorious body.’ (v21)  The inner transformation we crave is only possible through the loving and life-giving power of Jesus.

Finally, we need the right mindset: Paul at the start of chapter 4 refers to an argument between two church members which was obviously causing distress to the rest of the church family.  He pleads for them to be ‘of the same mind’ (v2).  Whilst we will never agree with everyone about everything, we need to value unity as part of our lifestyle: what unites us is always more than what divides us.

So, today, may God grant us grace to ‘stand firm’ (v1), living as citizens of heaven.  Perhaps now is the time to renew a commitment to the right models; or to seek the master again for continuing transformation; or to practise unity.  How will you carry your new (eternal) passport today?

Monday 18th August – Philippians 3:12-16  ‘I press on’

How do we deal with past mistakes and sins in our lives?  We all carry things we regret: some big, some small, but all things which nag away at us.  As far as possible we try to put them right: but there are things we can’t change.  A moment when we had the chance to help someone and we didn’t; a relationship that ended badly and we no longer have any contact with the person; a harsh word we have apologised for, but we can’t un-say.

Paul knew what this was like, perhaps far more than we ever can.  Paul’s mistakes were huge: people were killed, imprisoned, terrorised.  Some of what he did can never be un-done.  How does he live with the knowledge that he was responsible for these things?

Interestingly, reading all of his letters, it’s clear that he never totally forgets what his past was like.  Even writing to his friend Timothy in a letter of a similar date to this one, he still refers to himself as ‘the worst of sinners’ (1 Timothy 1:15). 

But what changes profoundly is that he no longer allows his past to determine his present and future.  Through his ministry, he’s done all he can to ‘atone’ for the past, but ultimately what he does now is the only thing he can do, which is to dedicate himself fully to living flat out for Jesus in the here and now: ‘I press on,’ he says, ‘to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.’ (v12)

It’s not that past doesn’t matter.  But it doesn’t direct our present.  The good news of Jesus insists that we have been forgiven, that the cross has already borne the punishment which our sin and selfishness deserves.  If God says we are forgiven, then we are forgiven!  We remain works in progress – Paul is very clear on that in verses 12 and 13 – but we press on towards the goal of our faith: to be united with Christ, and to enjoy life with him forever.

Mentally, therefore, Paul lets go of what lies behind, and strains towards what is ahead (v14), and says that this is the mature – i.e. the most productive – way to live (v15).  This is how he lives with ongoing energy and purpose.

So, my friends, let’s take Paul’s advice.  Let’s press on, let’s not allow the past to define our present or our future, let’s believe that we are forgiven, and live as free people – freed by Christ eternally.  Let’s remember that this is God’s calling for us, and he will complete it (1:6).  If the past has been troubling you recently, turn it back to God and release it to him.  Claim the truths of scripture – what God thinks about you is what really matters!

And may that empower our lives to overflow with gratitude, and to radiate the love of the God who calls us heavenwards. 

Saturday 16th August – Philippians 3:1-11  ‘That I may gain Christ’

One of our kids’ favourite TV programmes as children was the brilliant series ‘Horrible Histories’ – indeed one year, it was the theme of choice for our daughter’s birthday party.  As someone who took history as his degree, I loved the way it made the past accessible, without shying away from the reality of what life was like.

One of the highlights of the show were the songs; and one of our favourites related to the ‘Gorgeous Georgians’: it featured the four kings singing ‘Born to rule over you’ (Georges 4, 3, 1… and 2!).

We may chuckle – and the series was always very funny – but not that much has changed in the two hundred years since.  Today, 65% of our judges (10 times the national average) and almost a quarter of our current MPs (4 times) had private school education – and these are figures published by gov.uk, the government’s own website.   There is still a type of upbringing which opens doors into adult success – a ‘ruling class’ which still forms the bulk of our authority figures today.

St Paul himself was from just such a background.  He had the equivalent of a private school and Oxbridge education, culminating in an apprenticeship with Gamaliel the famous rabbi (mentioned in the bible in Acts 5:34).  No doubt it was this background that partly opened the doors for him to become a leading persecutor of early Christians.  In other words, he was a powerful young man, tipped for greatness in his culture.  Now, writing Philippians as an old man, he looks back on this in vv4-6, describing all the human advantages he enjoyed in building his early religious career and reputation.

BUT… and this is one of the great ‘buts’ in the bible – BUT all that means nothing to him now: ‘whatever were gains to me I now consider loss for the sake of Christ’ (v7) 

One of the great truths of the gospel is that we are all equal before God.  Indeed, our human advantages might in fact get in the way, cultivating a pride and self-reliance which prevents us receiving God’s grace.  It certainly did for the young Paul, who saw these grace-filled believers as a great threat to the traditions he held dear, and the laws that governed his lifestyle.

By God’s grace, Paul was transformed from the inside out: he understood that it was God’s grace that saved him, not his external righteousness; and he learnt a new way to live, surrendering completely to Christ, and allowing his lifestyle to be directed by the pattern of Christ’s self-giving love.  Everything else was ‘garbage’ (strong word, but it is the literal meaning in v8) compared to the ‘surpassing greatness (or worth) of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord’.

We may have had a privileged upbringing – or a very ordinary one.  It doesn’t matter.  We all matter equally to God.  Christ’s love is for all of us, and we all have direct access to it.  Christ’s grace is sufficient to save each of us, and his Spirit dwells in our hearts, regardless of background, age, gender, ethnicity or anything else.

What matters is Christ.  And may that glorious Christ dwell by faith in each of our hearts today.  Amen, thank you Lord.

Friday 15th August – Philippians 2:19-30  ‘God’s grace in human form’

“Christ has no body now but yours. No hands, no feet on earth but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks compassion on this world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good. Yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world. Yours are the hands, yours are the feet, yours are the eyes, you are his body. Christ has no body now on earth but yours.”

These famous words of St Teresa of Avila are a good way in to our passage for today.  I really like these chunks of Paul’s letters, because it reminds us that these are real letters written to real people in real places.  Often we can be tempted to treat the letters today as abstract theological essays, or primarily as delivery vehicles for teaching.  And there’s nothing wrong, of course, with discerning deep theology or practical teaching – that is part of their great value.

But they are also pieces of communication in time.  And at this time – probably early 60s AD – Paul is under house arrest in Rome.  He wants to visit his friends in Philippi, but he can’t (and indeed, from this point he never will).  Likewise, the church has heard he’s effectively in prison, so they send a trusted church member to visit him.  So, this short passage is really all about two visits: the most recent visit of Epaphroditus from Philippi to visit Paul in Rome – a visit during which he got very ill and which almost cost him his life – and a return visit from Paul’s best friend Timothy to Philippi, instead of the old apostle.

It reminds us that God’s mercy is often mediated through us – through real people showing God’s love in practical ways.  It’s a practical outworking of what we looked at yesterday – as God works through our work, as we become Christ’s feet and hands and mouth to share God’s love.

We don’t know whether Timothy ever made it to Philippi, or indeed when (or if) Epaphroditus returned to his home church.  But these lovely snapshots of community at work make these ancient churches seem very real to us.  As we think back a few years to all those doorstep visits to housebound people, the idea of Epaphroditus effectively the doing the same over a long distance to Paul really makes a connection.  Equally, Paul is able to bless others from his home by communicating through letters.  It all counts.  We all get to show God’s grace in human form.

So today, take heart – despite the long passage of the years, the same forms of blessing are at work, the same connections are being made – and God is still being glorified through it.  We are still the body of Christ!

Thursday 14th August – Philippians 2:12-18  ‘Continue to work out…’

In the journey of faith, how much is our action, and how much is God’s? 

That’s a question that has exercised minds for as long as the church has been around.  Whole schools of theological thought have been based around the answer.  Some have laid the emphasis entirely on God, to the extent that even our very real efforts are only those that have been essentially caused by our Maker.  Others have tended to emphasise the importance of our efforts, decrying the thought (implied by extreme versions of the first school) that we are simply stooges for divine activity.

But here in this passage, we get the biblical answer.  It is both.  God works, and we work too.  There is a tension in this answer, but the bible doesn’t find it necessary or helpful to reconcile that tension: we simply hold the two together: God works as we work.

After the heights of yesterday’s extraordinary verses, how does St Paul encourage us to live?  Therefore… ‘continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling’ (our responsibility), ‘for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his purpose’ (God’s responsibility).  God works as we work. 

Our lives are based on grace, and we must be careful not to make our works a badge of honour, or the means by which we earn God’s favour: but nonetheless there is a place for human effort – submitted to God’s will, and through which God’s loving grace and power can be made effective.

The passage continues in a similar vein: ‘do everything without complaining or arguing’ (our self-disciplined actions), so ‘then you will shine like stars’ (God’s empowering), ‘as you hold firmly’ (our action) ‘to the word of life (God’s life-giving power).

God and us – us and God.  We don’t initiate the relationship: that’s always God’s loving prerogative.  We can’t ‘fix’ it either – that’s God’s wonderful grace.  But we can co-operate.  We can work to live out our faith, trusting in God’s grace to empower it.

So today, don’t worry about how much is you and how much is God.  Live as if it’s fully you… and trust and pray that the effects will be fully God.

And, if the sky is clear tonight, take a moment to look up and wonder at the stars: give thanks that, by God’s grace, you can shine like one of those, wherever God has placed you.

Wednesday 13th August – Philippians 2:5-11  ‘Therefore God exalted him’

What makes someone great?  ‘Some are born great; others have greatness thrust upon them,’ so the old saying goes.  To which we might also add a combination of some of the following along the path to ‘greatness’: working hard, having a great talent, pursuing ruthless ambition, or just getting lucky.

It’s quite instructive to try and discern definitions of greatness by the people our society values.  For example, when children were asked 40 years ago who they most wanted to become when they were older, the top three answers were: a doctor, a teacher and a lawyer.  When the same study was carried out in 2015, the answers were: a pop star, an actor, a sportsperson.  In other words, we tend to define greatness nowadays by fame or celebrity, or (taking a generous view) by having an enviable talent which gets a lot of media coverage.

However, if we were to ask: ‘how does God define greatness?’ we would get a very different answer, as today’s passage makes clear.  Jesus is the one being most exalted in all of history: ‘to the highest place,’ as v9 says, with ‘the name that is above every name.’  No-one has been more glorified, and indeed one day, the whole of creation will bow before Lord Jesus (vv10-11).

But what is Jesus’ qualification, his path to greatness?  ‘He made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant… He humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross.’ (vv7-8)

The path to greatness is through humility.  In God’s economy, it has always been so.   God chose Israel, ‘the fewest of all peoples’ (Deut 7:7); Gideon, hiding in the winepress; David, the youngest of eight brothers, because of his heart.  ‘Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant,’ Jesus summarised for his disciples many hundreds of years later (Mark 10:43).

God exalts the humble of heart.  Which is good news for us, with our limited talents and obvious flaws.  God isn’t interested in promoting those of high birth or great wealth – he simply asks us to follow Jesus as best we can, living a life of humble service, to his glory.  And God will glorify it – because it’s not about us, it’s about him. 

So, take heart – in this humbling era, God can, and will, lift us up; ‘for whoever exalts themselves will be humbled, and whoever humbles themselves will be exalted.’  And may God grant us all grace, humbly and whole-heartedly, to follow our loving Saviour today.  Amen.

Tuesday 12th August – Philippians 1:27-2:4  ‘One in spirit’

‘I’ll be with you in spirit.’  It’s a phrase we often use in conversation, but I confess it’s one I’ve usually been a bit dubious about.  It can be cheapened as a sort of cop-out – the sort of thing we might say when the weather forecast’s bad (in England? surely not) and we might say to our friend: ‘I can’t join you today, but I’ll be with you in spirit.’ When what we mean is: ‘I don’t want to get wet and cold like you will be.’  You know the sort of thing I mean.

But during the pandemic a few years ago, this sense of being with someone in spirit underwent something of a rehabilitation.  The restrictions of multiple lockdowns stopped many of the physical meetings we would otherwise have enjoyed, forcing us to rely on cultivating relationships from a distance.  Never was it more valuable to be with someone ‘in spirit’.  When we spent time with our family or friends on the phone or on Zoom, and longed for their presence, suddenly a phrase like this would be meant in a deep, heartfelt way.

In other words, when St. Paul uses a phrase like being ‘one in spirit’ – which he does twice in this short passage – I think we really know what this means much better now than we might have done a few years ago, because we’ve experienced what it’s like to crave community, to long for the chance to stand beside someone.  ‘One in spirit’ is not just a soundbite for us anymore, it reflects a reality which we now understand.  We’ve learned to form and deepen bonds remotely, bonds which are none the less real for being practised at a distance.

The immediate context for the small Christian community in Philippi who received this letter is one of persecution and opposition – this is something that dates back to when Paul was with them (you can read the story in Acts 16:16-34).   Into this situation Paul gives us two practical examples of what it means to be ‘one in spirit’ – first, we stand firm together (v27).  We support each other, we look out for each other, we’ve got each others’ backs. 

Second, we show tenderness, compassion and humility together (vv1-3).  In other words, we practise the same loving lifestyle, trying to live like Jesus the best we can (more on that tomorrow).

One of the unexpected blessings of the last few years is that (I hope) we’ve learned to value community like never before.  Sometimes it’s only when something is taken away that we really appreciate it.  As the memories fade, let’s hold on to this resolve to be ‘one in spirit’ with our sisters and brothers.  Take a moment today to ponder: is there someone you can bless today with a loving word or action, demonstrating our togetherness in spirit?

Monday 11th August – Philippians 1:18-26  ‘To live is Christ’

Today’s passage is a special one – for me, at least: one which has had a huge impact on my life – like seeing an old friend, the time spent together has been nourishing and uplifting.  Let me tell you the story behind it.

When I was a teenager I was mugged three times in the street: the last being when I was 17, on the day when I found out I had been offered a place at university.  Whilst that piece of news felt very much God’s encouragement to me after a terrible day, the immediate effect was traumatic.  I was afraid to leave the house for a year.  I felt weak, vulnerable, easy prey for a society full of potentially dangerous people.  Of course I still had to go to school, to the library, to the shops, but every journey was some sort of small victory over the fear and nausea within. 

Then one day, 18 months later, everything changed.  It was as much a surprise to me as to anyone. I was reading my bible in bed one morning – this very passage.  And this verse literally leapt off the page at me: ‘For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain.’  Paul was in prison at the time, his life was constantly in danger, but his perspective was so radically different to mine.  I’ll just go for it, he says, since even if the worst should happen and I’m killed, well that’s actually the best thing that could happen, as I’ll be with God in glory.  To live is Christ, and to die is gain.

My attitude to life changed that day. I knew that God was calling me to let go of my fear, to trust him and to start really living again.  To seize life every day, and trust God for the rest.

That day became a major turning point in my life.  Not that everything was plain sailing after that, or even that I suddenly became fearless – but God had spoken directly to me through a special verse in Scripture, and set my life on a new trajectory.  A year later I started doing outreach youth work with the sort of kids who had mugged me.  That’s what it means for God to ‘heal the past’.

So this verse has kind of been my life motto for the last 35 years.  And although it is particularly special to me, I’ve long felt that it’s a healthy approach for anyone seeking to journey with Jesus.  To live is Christ, to die is gain.

There are two common objections I’ve encountered along the way: the first is that it encourages a kind of Christian fatalism, thinking too much about death.  All I can say is that for me, the effect has been precisely the opposite. To know that my future is secure has, paradoxically, freed me to really live.  I can seize the present better when I’m not obsessing over my future.

The second is that it sounds trite in difficult times – times like these.  To which I would answer: surely we don’t need a lifeboat in calm waters, but in the storm?  These verses find their true value exactly in times such as ours.  It’s not a magic wand, but it is a firm rock on which to place our feet, and to live hopefully even while so much around us could point us in the opposite direction.

So, I commend it to you!  And may it be a verse for your journey, as it is for mine: ‘For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.’  Amen.

Saturday 9th August – Philippians 1:12-18  ‘The important thing is….’

We’re all experts in mixed motives.  It’s part of being human.  We’re a heady mixture of light and darkness, goodness and selfishness.  And if we’re honest, even our good deeds usually have a bit of ‘me’ in them.

As a younger man, I used to feel much more exercised about this than I do now.  That’s not to say that I’ve gone soft on selfishness, or that I’m not still trying to purify all the corridors of my life.  I still long to become like Christ, truly selfless in love.  But I’ve learned to understand the reality of the human condition.  To accept it pushes me towards grace, and away from the closet gospel of pride which we call ‘trying harder’.  It is Christ who sanctifies us, slowly transforming us from the inside out.  As we give ourselves to Christ, so we find that his motives and motivations tend to (super)naturally hold more sway in our lives, more powerfully than our human efforts.

Paul faced a similar dilemma in our passage.  His imprisonment had left a ‘leadership gap’ which others were trying to fill – for not entirely selfless motives.  Some saw it quite openly as a chance to compete with him, or even oppose him (v15, v17).  And a less mature leader might have been threatened by that.  But the wise old saint – Paul had been in ministry for a good 25 years by this point – kept a calm head because he knew the bigger picture.  Even if peoples’ motives were decidedly mixed, Christ was still being preached.  And our great God was well able to work, regardless – ‘and because of this I rejoice.’

As an Anglican vicar, one of the things I promise to uphold are the 39 articles – these define the nature of the Anglican faith.  There’s a particularly salient one I’m going to quote in part – bear with the old (and non-inclusive) language, because the point is worth it:  ‘ALTHOUGH in the visible Church the evil be ever mingled with the good, and sometimes the evil have chief authority in the Ministration of the Word and Sacraments, yet… [they] be effectual, because of Christ’s institution and promise, although they be ministered by evil men.’

In other words, whatever our human limitations (even sinfulness), God can still make effective use the ministry, because it is Christ’s, not ours.  So, a useless or selfish minister can still be used by God because it’s not about them, it’s about God.  It’s a direct application of this lovely little passage, and it’s a great encouragement to all of us today.

God can use us because it’s about God, not us.  He can even use our mixed motives for his glory.

So today, if you do something kind, don’t worry that you enjoyed it, or it made you feel good.  God will use it.  If you did something good yesterday and then were, say, unkind to someone – God used that first good thing, too… and you can pray for forgiveness and restoration for everything else.

The important thing is that we keep trying to do this stuff for God’s glory.  Go for it!

Friday 8th August – Philippians 1:7-11  ‘Wise love’

What are the qualities of love?  It’s a good question to ask: love is one of those words that we all think we know, but is very hard to describe.  Love is something that is largely caught, not taught: it’s primarily a doing word, rather than a feeling word.

But that’s not the whole story.  Love is also a thinking word.  This is a passage about love, and it begins in much the way you’d expect.  Paul tells his dear friends in Philippi – a place which was special to him, as it was the first place he visited in Europe, and therefore also the first European church he’d planted – that he has them ‘in his heart’ (v7).  He goes further in declaring his love, saying in v8: ‘I long for all of you with the affection of Christ Jesus.’  Paul loved the recipients of his letter – something he felt in his heart and had also showed directly to them (see the account of his time there in Acts 16:11-40, where he ran very real dangers to help them in their journey of faith.)

But when he prays for them likewise to be filled with love, he adds a third dimension.  Love is not just about doing and feeling, it’s about thinking too: ‘And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight.’ (v9)  To know God is to love him: in other words, the more we know about God, the more we must love, since God is so beautiful, so amazing, so majestic, what other response could there be?

So, knowledge matters – wisdom is precious.  But it’s not just about how we relate to God – this wisdom also affects our actions.  Our love must have depth of insight, ‘so that you may be able to discern what is best.’ (v10)  Love is also about wise choices.  Two courses of action may present themselves: we need wisdom to choose the most loving.  A path of temptation or pressure opens up before us: we need wisdom to discern a helpful way out of it.  An opportunity to show the love of Christ arises: we need wisdom to make the most of that opportunity.

Love is the basis of our lives, since God is love and the love of Christ fills us (by His Spirit).  But this foundation of love needs wisdom to thrive, to grow, to be most fruitful.  This will ultimately be what most produces ‘glory and praise to God’ (v11).

So why not pray Paul’s prayer for yourself and those you love today?  And perhaps follow it with this famous prayer of St Richard of Chichester:

Dear Lord, of you three things I pray: to know you more clearly, to love you more dearly, and to follow you more nearly, day by day. Amen.

Thursday 7th August – Philippians 1:1-6  ‘On to completion’

In 1974, Jeff Lowe – a musician in his mid-20s who had recently become a Christian – felt prompted by God to set all 150 Psalms in the bible to music.  And so began an epic journey.  Over the next 40 or more years he privately composed music and settings for each psalm, and, finally, in January 2020 – 46 years later – the first psalm (number 6) was released publicly.  Since then, all of the completed psalms will be recorded and released as The Jeff Lowe Psalms Project. 

We are all works in progress.  Life is a long journey, and whilst we may not dedicate ourselves single-mindedly, as Jeff Lowe did, to one great project, we all have a similar calling: to finish well, to run the race of life as best we can.

As we begin our short series of reflections in the lovely little book of Philippians, it’s striking to observe that St Paul – the author of this letter – begins with the end-point in mind.  He has much to share with this young church, but where he starts is to remind them that ‘God who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.’ (v6)

In other words God finishes what he starts.  Whatever the nature of our journey, whatever our ups and downs in faith, our distractions down side-alleys, our frequent stops for a rest – God will make sure we complete our journey.

This is good news!  Not just because we are assured that our journey will not be in vain; but also that we have help.  However ‘lacking’ we may feel, God will make sure that we can cross the finish line and join him in glory.

During the pandemic, Captain Tom became a household name.  His was an inspirational story in that most challenging of seasons – and it’s worth reflecting for a moment that when he turned 99 on 30th April 2019, he was almost unknown and most people might have assumed that his journey was done.  But God still had work for him to do…

In these anxious times, many of us may feel in a dark alley, with no clear idea how long the alley is, or when it will get light again.  Today, let’s take heart from Jeff Lowe’s and Captain Tom’s examples – and above all, let’s claim this beautiful promise of Scripture: God always finishes what he starts.  The one who began a good work in us will carry it to completion – in us, and in others.  Amen.