Our own story

The early Christians were reputed to engage in cannibalism by eating the flesh of their Lord and drinking his blood. Moreover, they were despised for holding to and teaching the resurrection of the body.

Beginning with the resurrection of Jesus on Easter Sunday, Christians proclaimed the resurrection of the body (1 Corinthians 15:37):

And as for what you sow, you do not sow the body that is to be, but a bare seed, perhaps of wheat or of some other grain.

Unless we are seized by the love of Christ, which opens our hearts to faith, we cannot enter into the mystery of the resurrection. When we do, our perspective is transformed. Death is no longer the end; hope beckons, and our bodies temples of the Holy Spirit await a real and glorious transformation (1 Corinthians 6:19).

A heart strangely warmed

 

It was about 8.45pm on the evening of 24th May 1738 when John Wesley, the founder of Methodism, had an ‘experience’ in Aldersgate while someone read from Luther’s Preface to the Letter to the Romans.  Wesley wrote of the experience, afterwards, that, "while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death."

Faith and doubt - a human dialogue

 2nd Sunday of Easter - Sunday 12 April 2026

 Lectio Divina:*

Acts 2:42-47 Psalm 118(117)

1 Peter 1:3-9 John 20:19-31

“Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

Meditatio:

‘ Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.’ (John 20:29)

 Commentary:

To have faith is to trust and to entrust. It means taking a step, sometimes a leap, without full certainty. Faith does not require doubt, yet because we are limited creatures, doubt often accompanies the journey. In trusting, we hand our doubts to God, and God receives them. Simple? Yes and no. Life is rarely clear‑cut, and questions press in on every side.

Easter changes everything

 

Pic: Moira Lynott

Easter Sunday 5 April 2026

[see, also, Blog for Easter Saturday- Where O Death is your sting?]

Meditatio:

‘ but God raised him on the third day and allowed him to appear, not to all the people but to us who were chosen by God as witnesses, and who ate and drank with him after he rose from the dead’ (Acts 10:40-41)

 Commentary: It was early in the morning - cold and dark. Something extraordinary awaited the two disciples. The Gospels differ in detail, but they agree on the essential truth: the tomb was empty, and Jesus, who had truly died, had truly risen. There was no CCTV, no forensic reconstruction, no modern reporting. What we have is the testimony of those who saw, heard, touched, and were changed. And that testimony has carried the Church for two thousand years.

Where O death is your sting?

Holy Saturday

Yesterday, there was a funeral in a local church. Someone remarked of the deceased, “It was nice to be buried on the same day as Jesus was.” True. And, death comes for each of us. But it is not the end. What marks us out as a people set apart is our conviction that Jesus truly rose from the dead and is risen still. We believe what the world often dismisses as fanciful. We hope for what many have long abandoned. Even now, in this “valley of tears,” we live in the gift of eternal light. The darkness is overcome by the Light of Christ.

As we reflect today on the Lord’s Passion, we wait with joyful expectation for the spark that will be lit at the Easter Vigil this evening. We can hardly wait for sunset, when we will taste and sense the joy of the Risen One on this holiest of nights. From a single flame, light will spread from candle to candle. We hear the Deacon or priest sing out the  great Exsultet which includes the following verses:

This is the night when Jesus Christ
broke the chains of death
and rose triumphant from the grave.

And again:

Accept this Easter candle,
a flame divided but undimmed,
a pillar of fire that glows to the honour of God.
Let it mingle with the lights of heaven
and continue bravely burning
to dispel the darkness of this night.

Whether just after sunset or just before, this is the moment we have been waiting for. Our song is one of triumph over death. Death does not have the last word. In our Easter Eucharist we proclaim Christ crucified and risen. He is in our midst, and we rejoice.

Some day the Easter candle lit on the previous Easter will be lit for our passing from this world.

Where, O death, is your victory?  Where, O death, is your sting? (1 Corinthians 15:55)

Preparing for Christmas

 

Adoracja z Niepokalanowa

You read that right.  Today, the feast of the Annunciation, marks the moment in time when God became one of us –  a unique human being beginning to unfold according to the laws of nature. To some, this seems like a crazy idea: that God would become something so small, so hidden, so apparently insignificant that many today would dismiss it as disposable tissue.

The best is yet to come

Sunday 22 March 2026

Ezekiel 37:12-14 Psalm 130(129)

Romans 8:8-11 John 11:1-45

“Lazarus, come out!” he cries in a loud voice.
“Unbind him, and let him go,” he commands.
breathe upon us with the power of your Spirit, that we may be raised to new life in Christ, and serve you in holiness and righteousness all our days; through the same Jesus Christ, our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen

 Lectio Divina:*

Meditatio:  “Let us also go, that we may die with him.” (John 11:16)

 Commentary:

We stand before the sealed tomb with the two sisters of Lazarus, their much‑loved brother now dead and laid to rest. Jesus himself is “greatly disturbed in spirit and deeply moved,” and he weeps for his friend. It is a moment of suspense. What will happen next – and where do I stand in this story?