Friday 25 December 2020

on keeping it real

One of the things I like about Mark’s gospel — which some of us have been reading during Advent — and what I like about it is that many of the people featured are either a bit bonkers or something of a letdown.

Well, there’s humanity right there in a nutshell. 

If you still believe that you are the normal one then I’m sorry to disabuse you of that notion. Really. We’re all a bit cranky, egotistical, judgemental, eccentric, grumpy, obsessed with the wrong things, inattentive to the right things, snobbish, arrogant or generally potty! And that’s okay.

I’m not suggesting all of us are all of these things, but all of us are a mix of some of them. What we aren’t is normal. The good news is that God loves us just as we are, utterly and completely. The bad news is that we can’t encounter that love fully while we’re still pretending we’re better than others. The devotional life we aspire to is one where we accept our individual peculiarities. And when we do that, it’s a wee bit easier to accept everybody else’s weirdness.


When St Paul wrote that ‘all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God’, as he does in Romans 3, he doesn’t mean we’ve all done some naughty things that we should feel embarrassed about (that goes without saying). No, it goes much deeper than that, and means coming to terms with our own self-righteousness that makes us believe we’re better than others. It’s pretending you’re the normal one when others aren’t that’s the real sin. 


The good news is that Jesus Christ is a great leveller. So when we stop getting all hoity-toity about other people, and start embracing and learning to understand our own peculiarities then we can more fully discover that scandalous love of God that takes us as we are. That’s what grace means.


The process of faith, of deepening our spirituality, begins with the phrase ‘know thyself.’ Not as you’d like to think of yourself, but the you you really are. That’s what humility is. Being able to recognise and admit to yourself: I’m a bit fearful at times. Or I feel a bit inadequate compared to others, so I behave oddly or speak harshly about them to make myself feel better. I struggle to recognise that I’m not actually better than others, because… well, just look at them… but also because pointing the finger is so much easier than the work of self-examination. I feel insecure. I’m shy. I don’t have very much patience with other people. I need to be admired or have opportunities to show off, in order to feel better about myself. I’d rather avoid people who are different from me because I can’t be bothered learning to understand their culture, their values, their customs because I worry it’ll take something away from me. (It won’t). I can’t cope with the speed that society is changing. I so dislike change that I’ll do what I can to control other people or situations I find myself in.


The great thing about the salvation that Jesus offers is that, while we’re undertaking the business of discovering and accepting our own particular peculiarities, we have absolutely no need to feel rubbish about ourselves. We’re loved by God just as we are. Jesus simply wants to lead us into a deeper loving union with God. 


So while we’re letting go of our pretences about ourselves (which can feel scary, and sometimes be challenging) we can also let go of our hang-ups. Because God will hold onto us, and support us, when we allow the Holy Spirit to work in us and form us into new people. 


That isn’t a process that happens overnight. It’s a lifetime’s work, rooted in a practice of daily prayer and devotions that invites Christ to lead us into wholeness.


I think Mary, the mother of Jesus, only a girl really, understood this. She seemed so tuned into God’s wavelength and had sufficient self-insight to attend to the work of God in her life, and the extraordinary announcement of the baby she was about to have.  


How can you be sure that God accepts the weird and peculiar you that you are? Because he took on the weirdness of humanity in this little Christ child we celebrate today. God loves us in all our diversity and peculiarity and wrong-headedness and self-delusion — loves us enough to think — yeah, I’ll have a bit of that. I’ll enter right into that whole experience so they’ll know I’m totally with them. That I’m alongside them in all they’re going through. That if they’ll listen to me they’ll understand they could become so much fulfilled than they are, experience a much richer interior life, and they’ll know that I take them as they are because I’ve been there, done that and I’ve got the scars to prove it.


For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given:

and the government shall be upon his shoulder:

and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.

— Isaiah 9:6

Friday 18 December 2020

on predicting the future

This time last year we had just had a General Election. In the run-up to the vote, candidates made all sorts of promises based on their predictions for the future. What nobody was counting on was a global pandemic that swiftly changed priorities and left some election promises in tatters. We fool ourselves when we assume that life always stays on the same trajectory.


As Christians, we have a very particular expectation about what the future will bring, based on our hope in a loving and faithful God. The last book in the Bible, the Revelation of St John, paints a wonderful picture of God’s future kingdom: A place where people will hunger and thirst no more; where the shepherd will guide them to drink from the deep waters of life. Where the home of God is among mortals, and he will dwell with them and wipe every tear from their eyes. No more mourning or crying or pain. A place where the tree of life bears life-giving fruit, and its leaves are 
for the healing of the nations (Revelation 21.1-4 & 22.1-5).

What a powerful and exciting vision of the future. It is not a shallow promise made by people who cannot predict the future, but is God’s promise of a new kingdom where domination of the powerless by the powerful will end and God will reign amongst his people. This is the manifesto that Jesus announced when he said, ‘The kingdom of God is at hand.’

Saturday 12 December 2020

on having the courage to show our true selves


The leaves have pretty much all dropped from the trees in the park. I have loved how the long, warm sunlight of autumn strikes them and brings such vividness to their gold, russet and bronze tones against the deep blue of the sky. Show me a painting in a gallery as uplifting and bedazzling as that.

You may have thought, like me, that the leaf colours of autumn signify their death. But this is not so. Our resident horticulturist tells me that when the green fades, each leaf reveals its true colour: one that was there all along. The chlorophyl that allows a tree to convert light to energy is what makes the leaf green. Once the tree has no need to do that, the green fades and the leaves reveals their hidden selves.


What does it take for us to show our true self to the world? — the one that is hidden under the pretences and masks we put on, so the world doesn’t see who we really are. The way we dress and act and talk which sometimes arises from a fear of being judged by others for who we really are. God wants to help us trust in him enough to not worry about the opinions of others but instead to drop our false selves to become the dazzling individual that is beloved by God and created in his image. And when we do so, we notice how much closer to God we feel. 

Saturday 5 December 2020

on giving others the benefit of the doubt

The British justice system takes account of the accused’s intention in committing a crime. For example, killing a person will be judged differently depending on whether the defendant’s action was accidental or deliberate. The ancient people of God had a similar system. If a person killed someone by accident they could go to a ‘city of refuge’ to avoid execution (Joshua 20:1-9).

St Ignatius created a rule of Presupposition for the Jesuit religious order he founded in the 1500s. He wrote, ‘We ought to be more eager to put a good interpretation on a neighbour’s statement than to condemn it.’ In other words, always give people the benefit of the doubt. And if you’re not sure what a person means by something you should ask for clarity.


In The Jesuit Guide to (Almost) Everything, Fr James Martin S.J. writes, ‘[The Presupposition] is a key insight for healthy relationships… And while most people would agree with it in principle, we often do just the opposite. We expect others to judge us according to our intentions, but we judge others by their actions. In other words, we say to ourselves, My intention was good. Why don’t they see it? But when it comes to other people… we say, “Look what they did!” The Presupposition helps us… approach every interaction with an open mind and heart by presuming — even when it is hard to do so — that the other person is doing his or her best and isn’t out to get you.’

Sunday 29 November 2020

on reading the gospel of mark during advent

Today is the beginning of Advent, which marks the start of the Church calendar. It is a penitential season, rather like Lent, in which Christians are encouraged to place an extra emphasis on prayer, devotions and simplicity of life. In church we mark it with purple vestments and hangings, and simple wooden items on the altar — not forgetting our wreath of advent candles. 

Every year our gospel readings on a Sunday are mainly drawn from one particular gospel. This year it is Mark’s gospel that is being featured. Mark is the shortest of the four gospels in the Bible, and was the earliest to be written. It really licks along at quite a pace, taking just 90 minutes to read from end to end.


This Advent I’d like to invite you to read the whole of Mark’s gospel. You might want to sit down and read it in one go, or you may prefer to read half a chapter a day. We have some copies of Mark from the Bible Society in a single booklet, using the Good News Bible — an easy to read translation illustrated with Annie Valleton’s charming line drawings. You’ll be able to pick up a copy at church, or we can post one out to you on request. Those of you who receive the church news sheet by post will find a copy enclosed. And, on 27th January, our Bible Book Club will also be discussing Mark. 


‘Jesus said, “The right time has come and the kingdom of God is near. Turn away from your sins and believe the Good News.”’ — Mark 1.15 (GNB)

Sunday 22 November 2020

on the transforming power of love

What ultimately can really change the world we live in for the better? How can we transform places of conflict, suffering, inequality or poverty? For are not these, together with climate change, the most pressing issues that face our generation?

There’s an increasing tendency in the West to argue that the best way for society to flourish is to let everyone have their own way as much as is reasonably possible. People should be free to do what they like; free to make choices about their lives (such as wearing a face mask during a pandemic) without rules or instructions, and regardless of advice from experts; free to say whatever they please and broadcast it on social media, whether or not it offends others.


Political forces are afoot to try and force a ‘culture war’ in this country: that is to stir up division in an attempt to overwhelm those that argue for respect, tolerance and inclusion.  I’m not against people taking personal responsibility for their lives, or having freedom of choice about how they live them. And as a writer I’m certainly in favour of freedom of speech. But with such freedoms comes responsibility, and I’m not always convinced that those who argue for liberty have the common good in mind.


Politics does make a real different to people’s lives, and it matters that we are informed and engaged about it. But the force that will really enable change in our country is that of love. The love that God shows for us in creation, in his son Jesus Christ, and in his teaching for love to be at the heart of all we do. Only when love is the transforming force at work in society will our personal freedoms not be at the expense of others.

Sunday 15 November 2020

on being people of the light

Some years ago, a politician in Britain described her boss as having, “something of the night” about him. It wasn’t a compliment. It may have been that she had today’s epistle in mind. St Paul writes to the church in Thessaloniki that Christians are, “children of the light and children of the day. We do not belong to the night or to the darkness.” (1 Thes 5.5).

Paul is using the imagery of nightlife people who are out late, getting drunk, and in the daytime are sleepy and tired. He wants Christians to be like sober people, refreshed and ready for action after a good night’s sleep, making the most of the day so that they can attend to their faith and the work of God.

I’ll admit this doesn’t sound great if you’re not a morning person, or you suffer from insomnia. It is only a simile used to illustrate an underlying point: we must avoid getting so wrapped up in our own desires and day-to-day living that we lose touch with God’s activity in our life and world. Instead Paul wants us to be alert to God at all times, so that we are able to notice when the Holy Spirit is at work in our homes, communities and workplaces. When we’re tuned into Jesus through prayerful living, we’re more able discern his call on our lives.

Sunday 8 November 2020

on kindness

One of this summer’s best-selling books was Humankind: A Hopeful History. It argues that, far from being pre-programmed to be self-centred, the human instinct tends towards kindness and collaboration. Archbishop Desmond Tutu makes a similar point in his book Made For Goodness. If we are created in the image of God, and God is good, then surely goodness is at the core of our being?

Somehow, though, our attention gets drawn towards people who behave badly or violently, creating a skewed impression about humanity. Newspapers are seldom filled with stories about the acts of generosity, self-sacrifice or friendship towards strangers, that make up normal everyday life.

Humankind recounts some research that suggests many troops sent into armed conflict try to avoid firing their weapons. During the American Civil War, men purposely took as long as possible to reload their muskets. One was founded to have loaded up to 23 balls down his muzzle to appear busy. In WW2 an historian accompanied a US battalion. He determined that only 15-25% of servicemen had fired their weapon in a fierce assault on a Pacific island. Many courageously put themselves on the front line and risked their own lives, but drew back from killing others.

We are told that war is part of human nature. But what if it isn’t? What if there’s another way, where nations settle their differences through collaboration and peace-building? A way that is in tune with humanity’s tendency towards kindness, and the example of Jesus Christ.

Sunday 1 November 2020

on being a church named after all the saints

Today is All Saints Day which has a special significance for us here at St Anne and All Saints. We are a church named after the witness and example of all those people of faith who have gone before us; that ‘great cloud of witnesses that surrounds us’ and encourages us to run the race that the gospel inspires us towards (Hebrews 12:1-2).  

We inherited the ‘All Saints’ part of our name from a church that used to stand on the site of what is now the Lansdowne Green Estate. After that building was destroyed in WW2 the congregation moved to St Barnabas Church in Guildford Road. Around 1980 they merged with St Anne’s to become St Anne and All Saints, and some of the congregation that moved here then are still with us. All Saints Day is an opportunity for us to remember our history.


We would normally be celebrating today with a Patronal Festival and a church lunch. That’s obviously not possible in the current circumstances, but the saints in the kingdom of heaven can celebrate on our behalf with the food and drink Jesus promises at his table in Luke 22.29.


Meanwhile, perhaps we can use today to give thanks for all those saints who have been faithful to Christ in this corner of London since 1793, and from whom we have inherited the responsibility of sharing the good news of Jesus Christ through our words and mission.

Sunday 25 October 2020

on discovering solidarity in a pandemic

The events of this year have surely proven the benefits of solidarity, when differences are set aside to offer mutual support and care-giving as we journey through a period of collective testing. It took a pandemic to make our society willing to stand together, shoulder-to-shoulder with others of different opinions, outlooks and cultural values. We began to learn to appreciate those in the most overlooked jobs in our communities — the ones that kept us safe, fed, and healthy. For once, we could see that humanity was united, all in the same boat. When we face a common cause, it diverts us from making enemies of one another.

Solidarity is like living in a village of togetherness, where one seeks to pick up the other rather than knock them down; to collaborate rather than compete; to put ourselves aside and see others as more important (Philippians 2:3). In solidarity a hand of friendship reaches out into the unknown, willing to help and support those in trouble; to advocate for justice and truth.

In solidarity, we do not see the others as a threat, but an opportunity to learn and grow and discover — for our horizons to be stretched wider and stunning new vistas revealed amidst our tendency to insulate ourselves from difference and change. In solidarity we can discover our best selves, our gifts revealed as we offer them to others. 

It sounds a lot like Jesus’ idea of the kingdom of God.

Sunday 18 October 2020

on turning the church inside out

The noticeboard outside the church has a new poster on it. Instead of advertising some upcoming event at St Anne’s, or promoting our community activities, this poster has no words. It is simply a 3-foot high photograph of the inside of church.

This is a way of turning our building ‘inside out.’ Those in the parish who are unfamiliar with St Anne’s can now see what is behind our doors. I hope it will also be a sign that, in spite of the pandemic, we continue to worship God and to pray for our community. A banner, made by our Vauxhall Tide art group, is centre stage above the altar, bearing its message to ‘Show the love.’ 


Turning ourselves inside out is part of the Christian calling. The joy that we experience through our personal encounter with Jesus is not something to keep to ourselves; it should spill over into the rest of our lives as we live in him and seek to share that joy with others.


At our APCM today we will be reporting on St Anne’s year in 2019. That now seems a long time ago, given the events of 2020. Our challenge, as we look to the future, will be to find new ways of turning St Anne’s inside out and sharing the joy of the gospel to our neighbourhood.