Sermon for Palm Sunday, 13th April 2025

Today is Palm Sunday. It’s the day when we remember and celebrate our Lord’s triumphal entry into Jerusalem and liturgically, we’ve joined with the crowds who welcomed Jesus into the city that day by praising God and acclaiming Jesus as our King. But on this day, the first day of Holy Week, the time of the Church’s year when we remember the events of the last few days of our Lord’s earthly life, the time when we remember all he endured for us and for our salvation, I want us to think about how very like those crowds in Jerusalem we can be; welcoming Christ and acclaiming him as our King, and then turning on him, betraying him, abandoning him, denying him and choosing the way of the world over his way, the way of the Cross. I’ve spoken about putting ourselves in the picture as we read the Gospel stories, so let’s do that today as we look ahead to all that we’ll read over the next week so that we can make Holy Week the climax of the Lenten discipline we started so that we might conform ourselves more closely to Christ and his example.

Speaking of Christ’s example during Holy Week should immediately turn  our thoughts to the example he set us on Maundy Thursday because when he washed his disciple’s feet after supper Jesus actually said, 

“If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you also should do just as I have done to you.”

And yet, as I’ve often said, whilst I’ve never come across a shortage of people in a congregation who are willing to have their feet washed by a priest on Maundy Thursday, I’ve very rarely, only once in fact, in my almost 20 years as a priest come across people in a congregation who were actually willing to follow this example of the Lord and wash one another’s feet. Quite a few have told me that they’d wash hands or faces but not feet because they don’t like feet. I’m sure Jesus didn’t like the scourge, the crown of thorns or the nails, but he endured those for us. Seems very little in comparison to be asked to wash someone’s feet, doesn’t it? So why won’t people do as Christ asked and follow his example?

Later on Maundy Thursday, our thoughts turn to Gethsemane, to Jesus’ Agony in the Garden and to his betrayal and arrest. Here, Jesus asked his disciples to keep watch with him, but they couldn’t even do that for one hour, before they fell asleep. I must admit that the Vigil of the Watch on Maundy Thursday night, that hour we spend in prayer at the Altar of Repose, usually is fairly well attended. But in general, how often do we sleep, both as individuals and as a Church,  while the darkness conspires against the Lord? What do I mean by that?

Many people do believe that today, we’re living in a very anti-Christian time and society. I actually think we live in a time and place that’s anti-religion in more general terms, but Christianity and the Church are easy targets. The secular atheists who despise all religion know that they’d never get away with treating any other faith so badly as they think they can with Christianity. We can easily see this in terms of the forces of darkness conspiring to take the Lord away, because I’m sure that those who do hate religion and target Christianity, rejoice every time a church closes. And churches are closing as we know. In part this is because the constant attacks on the Church and Christianity make it harder to attract new people to the Church and our faith, but it’s also because people don’t support their parish church as they could, and to be brutally honest, as they should as far as I’m concerned. In the last week, for example, we’ve had two services in this benefice, services I must add that people in these congregations have asked for, and apart from myself the congregations were 2, and 1. I’m sure there’d be a lot of tears and hand wringing if these churches were to close, but that would be a bit like sleeping until it was too late wouldn’t it, and only waking up after the forces of darkness had arrived to take the Lord away. 

But whose fault is it that these forces of darkness are hurting the Church and the Christian faith so much? To be brutally honest again, in part at least, it’s the Church’s fault and our it’s fault. How often do we hear the Church standing up for itself against this sort of thing? How often do we hear anyone in the Church standing up for the Christian faith against the repeated attacks made on it? How often do we stand up for our faith and the Church when they’re attacked and ridiculed? So we acclaim Christ as our King but then stand by and do nothing as his kingdom is attacked. Why? Some people say it’s because secular atheists have the Church running scared, which I’m sure they’re very pleased about. Just as I’m sure those who went to Gethsemane to take Jesus away were pleased when his disciples ran away in fear.

That brings us to Judas, the betrayer. We don’t really know why Judas betrayed Jesus. The Gospel tells us that at supper earlier on Maundy Thursday,

‘…the devil had already put it into the heart of Judas Iscariot, Simon’s son, to betray him (Jesus)…’ 

But the Greek word that we translate as ‘devil’ is διαβολου (diabolou) which means ‘accuser or slanderer’. In other words, Judas was led to betray Jesus by Satan, who is ‘the accuser’, the one who tried and failed to tempt Jesus into betraying God his Father in the wilderness. And I think this leads us to conclude that Judas was tempted in some way to betray Jesus. Maybe it was for thirty pieces of silver, but certainly Judas saw something for himself in betraying Jesus; something he couldn’t resist.

And we’re all like Judas in that way. If we call ourselves ‘Christian’ then each and every time we do something that’s contrary to Christ’s teaching and example, because we see something in doing that for us, we betray Jesus. When we do that, in effect, our actions say that what we want is more important than Jesus. We might not get thirty pieces of silver for what we do, but we do sell him nonetheless, we sell him down the river, we harm Jesus because we think we’ll benefit in some way from doing it. And we do harm Jesus in this way because we harm each other through doing these things and as he said, what we do to others, we do to him. And we harm his body, the Church, through doing these things too.

And that makes us just like those crowds who shouted for Barabbas on Good Friday morning as well. The choice the people had to make that day was between Jesus, a man who spoke about love, peace and life, and Barabbas, a murderer and insurrectionist, a man who spoke about and dealt in hatred, violence and death. It was a choice between Jesus’ way, God’s way, and Barabbas’ way, the world’s way. And that’s a choice we’re faced with each and every day, and probably many times each and every day. And, if we’re brutally honest with ourselves, don’t we far too often  choose the world’s way rather than God’s way? We must know we do that otherwise we’d be sinless wouldn’t we? And does anybody here really think that? So we’re faced with the same choice the crowd were faced with on that first Good Friday morning, Jesus or Barabbas, God’s way or the world’s way, life or death. And far too often, just like that crowd, we shout for Barabbas.

In his book, The Christian Priest Today, the late archbishop of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey, wrote,

‘You put yourself with God, empty perhaps, but hungry and thirsty for him; and if in sincerity you cannot say that you want God you can perhaps tell him that you want to want him; and if you cannot say even that perhaps you can say that you want to want to want him!

Ramsey was talking about coming to God in prayer, but this is something we should do in every situation we’re faced with, perhaps especially in difficult situations. Whether it’s when we’re asked to do something we’d rather not do, like washing feet. Whether it’s when we’re tired and want to take a break from what we’re being asked to do in church or frightened by society’s hostility towards the Church and the Christian faith and want to walk away. And whenever we’re tempted to betray Christ to suit our own ends or turn our back on him because the world’s way is easier or more expedient. If we can at least want God and want to do things God’s way in those times, or even want to want, or want to want to want to do things God’s way in those times, then perhaps we will, at least be heading in the right direction. Because what is wanting to do things God’s way in difficult situations but another way of saying, as Christ himself did in Gethsemane on Maundy Thursday night,

“Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”

If we can make that prayer our own in every situation, especially in difficult situations, we will indeed be making progress. And if making progress in spirituality and discipleship has been the point of our Lenten discipline, that discipline will have been well worth the effort because if we have made that kind of progress, we’ll be able to celebrate Easter all the more joyfully because we can be a little more certain that it’s promise will be ours.

Amen.


Propers for Palm Sunday, 13th April 2025

Entrance Antiphon
Hosanna to the Son of David;
blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord, the King of Israel.
Hosanna in the highest.

The Collect
Almighty ever-living God,
who as an example of humility for the human race to follow
caused our Saviour to take flesh and submit to the Cross,
graciously grant that we may heed his lesson of patient suffering
and so merit a share in his Resurrection.
Who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

The Readings

Liturgy of the Palms  
Luke 19:28-40

Liturgy of the Word
Isaiah 50:4-7
Psalm 22:8-9, 17-20, 23-24
Philippians 2:6-11
Luke 22:39-23:56

Prayer after Communion
Nourished with these sacred gifts,
we humbly beseech you, O Lord,
that, just as through the death of your Son
you have brought us to hope for what we believe,
so by his Resurrection
you may lead us to where you call.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Sermon for Lent 5, 6th April 2025

The Gospel story of the Woman Caught in Adultery is a very well-known one, but it’s also a very controversial one, for a few different reasons. The earliest record we have of the story is in Christian writings from the 4th Century. It’s in the Vulgate, for example, the first Latin translation of the Bible which was completed in the year 384, but it doesn’t appear in the earliest surviving manuscripts of John’s Gospel itself (some people think it was perhaps omitted from early versions because of the lenient way Jesus deals with the sin of adultery in the story). But whatever the reason, there’s an issue with its provenance and because of that, even today, the story isn’t included in some versions of John’s Gospel and some commentaries on John’s Gospel don’t comment on it but simply omit the story. There’s also an issue about its authorship. Although it’s now part of John’s Gospel, some biblical scholars think it was  actually written by Luke because it’s portrayal of Jesus as a merciful, forgiving, healer, and the prominence given to a woman in the story is much more typical of Luke than it is of John. But whatever the controversies there’s no reason whatsoever to doubt that this is something that did happen in Jesus’ ministry; there’s nothing, either in the story itself, or in terms of doctrine to suggest otherwise. So what is this story really all about?

First of all, it’s a story, another story, about the religious leaders trying to set a trap for Jesus. The scribes and Pharisees bring a woman to Jesus, whom they say has been caught committing adultery and they want to know what Jesus thinks should be done with her. But this has absolutely nothing to do with justice. I know times have changed, but human biology hasn’t; it took two to tango just as much in 1st Century Judea as it does now. So where is this woman’s partner in crime? If she’s an adulteress, where is the adulterer? Why hasn’t he been brought to Jesus too? So these people were clearly interested in something other than justice, and it’s equally clear that what they really wanted was to trap Jesus into saying or doing something to incriminate himself.

The trap is this. According to the Law of Moses, the woman should be stoned to death, but there’s a problem. In the stories of Jesus’ trial we read that the Sanhedrin take Jesus to Pilate because they have no authority to put someone to death for a crime. And we think that was true because in the Talmud, the main Jewish text on law and theology, we read that the right of the Jews to carry out a death sentence was taken away,

‘Forty years before the destruction of the Temple…’

In other words, about the time that Jesus’ ministry began. We know only too well from our own arguments about Brexit, a people’s right to govern themselves and not have their own law overruled by a foreign power, is a very big issue. So Jesus’ ministry took place in a time of heightened tension with the Roman rulers of Judea. It would have been another reason why the Romans were hated so much. So what would Jesus do? If he sided with the Law of Moses and said that woman should be stoned to death, he’d put himself in conflict the Romans but, if he said ‘No’ the woman shouldn’t be stoned, he could be accused of being a collaborator with the Romans; a Jew putting Roman law above God’s law. What kind of prophet would do that? So it was a trap, but how could he get out of it?

Well, as he did on so many occasions, Jesus turned the situation completely upside down and threw the problem back on the woman’s accusers. They’d set a trap for him, and he turned it into a snare for them.

Jesus bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground.And as they continued to ask him, he stood up and said to them, “Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” 

And how could anyone do that without claiming to be sinless, like God? Without, to all intents and purposes claiming equality with God? Without, to intents and purposes, claiming to be the Messiah? Without, to all intents and purposes, claiming to be the very things they were looking to kill Jesus for claiming? So they went away leaving the woman alone with Jesus. And what Jesus says to her is entirely in keeping with what we read earlier in John’s Gospel. He’d said,

“…God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him.”

And here we have this conversation between Jesus and the woman;

“Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?” She said, “No one, Lord.” And Jesus said, “Neither do I condemn you; go, and from now on sin no more.”

So while this story might be controversial in terms of provenance, it’s entirely in keeping with the Gospel as a whole, and consistent with John’s Gospel as a whole too, for a reason that I think is often missed.

Jesus’ immediate response to the questions of the scribes and Pharisees was to bend down and write on the ground with his finger. We’re not given any explanation for that in the story, but Jesus must have had a reason for doing it, and whoever wrote the story must have had a reason for including that detail in the story. So what was that all about?

Some people think that Jesus might have been writing the sins of the accusers in the dust on the ground. Perhaps things like, pride, self-righteousness, anger, jealousy, deceitfulness, lack of faith; because all of those things and probably more besides were at work in what was going on there on that day.

Others think that what Jesus was doing was alluding to the Old Testament story of Belshazzar’s Feast when a finger appeared and wrote on the wall,

words which Daniel interpreted as,

“Mene, God has numbered the days of your kingdom and brought it to an end; Tekel, you have been weighed in the balances and found wanting; Peres, your kingdom is divided and given to the Medes and Persians.”

The implication being that, just as that king Belshazzar had been judged for profaning the scared vessels taken from the temple in Jerusalem, and sentence on him had been pronounced, so Jesus was implying that those who were now refusing to believe in him were being judged and sentenced. Again, as we read earlier in John’s Gospel,

“Whoever believes … is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgement: the light has come into the world, and people loved the darkness rather than the light because their works were evil.”  

Either of these things would be an acceptable explanation of what Jesus was doing when he wrote on the ground, but I think what Jesus was really doing was fulfilling scripture.

Almost immediately before this story in the Gospel, Jesus had said,

“If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink.Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” 

That reminds us of a prophecy of Jeremiah who  described the punishment of Judah for its sin in this way;

O Lord, the hope of Israel,
    all who forsake you shall be put to shame;
those who turn away from you shall be written in the earth,
    for they have forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living water.

So perhaps was Jesus was really doing when he wrote on the ground, was fulfilling this scripture.

This gospel story might be controversial for a number of reasons, but it’s a wonderful part of the Gospel. It’s in keeping with the Gospel as a whole because it’s not the only story of its kind we find in the Gospels. The portrayal of Jesus in the story is consistent with how Jesus is portrayed in the Gospels as a whole. Jesus’ teaching in the story is consistent with his appeal for mercy and forgiveness and his instruction not to judge others because we will be judged by the very same standards we use to judge them. And, I think, it’s another example of Jesus, the Messiah, fulfilling scripture.

So let’s treat this story as we would any other Gospel story, as one that we can learn from and put to use in our daily lives. But let’s also use this story as one we can take encouragement from. We’re all sinners, and there is no shortage of people who’ll condemn us for what we’ve done. But let’s always remember that Jesus doesn’t condemn us. He simply says to us what he said to that woman caught in the act of adultery that day in Jerusalem:

“I do not condemn you. Go on your way, and sin no more.

Amen.


Propers for the 5th Sunday of Lent, 6th April 2025

Entrance Antiphon
Give me justice, O God,
and plead my cause against a nation that is faithless.
From the deceitful and cunning rescue me,
for you, O God, are my strength.

The Collect
By your help, we beseech you, Lord our God,
may we walk eagerly in that same charity with which,
out of love for the world,
your Son handed himself over to death.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

The Readings
Isaiah 43:16-21
Psalm 126:1-6
Philippians 3:8-14
John 8:1-11

Prayer after Communion
We pray, almighty God,
that we may always be counted among the members of Christ,
in whose Body and Blood we have communion.
Who lives and reigns for ever and ever.
Amen.

Sermon for Lent 4 (Mothering Sunday) 30th March 2025

One of the things that’s essential for us to do as Christians is to read the Bible on a regular basis. I’m sure we all know that, and I hope we all do it. But what’s far better than simply reading the Bible is to take the time to study it, to delve more deeply into the Bible than simply reading it allows us to do. And one very good way of doing this is to try to imagine ourselves as part of the story we’re reading, perhaps as an eyewitness of what’s happening, or even as a character in the story itself. This is something that study groups are sometimes asked to do and then to share their thoughts with the rest of the group. But there’s nothing to stop us doing this individually and making notes on what we think and feel through entering into the story in this way. And I think this morning’s Gospel, the story of the Prodigal Son, is a very good story to use in this way because we should all be able to identify with the main characters in the story.

There are only three characters in this parable, the father and his two sons. And it makes no difference whether we’re a father or a mother, or a son or a daughter, we should all be able to identify with these three characters because we’ll all have been in situations just like those they find themselves in, in the parable. So let’s start with the younger son.

The younger son is a typical youngster, someone who wants everything now while he’s young enough to enjoy it, and I’m sure we’ve all been like that at some time in our lives. Jesus doesn’t say in the parable, that the young man’s father tried to offer him advice, but that’s something a loving father, and he is a loving father, of course he is because he represents God, the Father, that’s something a loving father would have done. But the younger son doesn’t listen. And how many times have we been like that? Perhaps when we were younger, nagging our parents until we got what we wanted, only to find that what we wanted so much wasn’t as good as we thought it would be, or only made us happy for a short time until it lost its appeal to us? Or when we were older, wanting to exert our independence and do our own thing, go our own way, ignoring what turned out to be good advice from someone older? And then getting ourselves into a bit of a mess because we wouldn’t listen?

We’ve all done these things. But how have we reacted when we’ve realised that we were wrong? Have we, like the younger son, had the humility, and the courage, to admit our mistake, go back home and say that we’re sorry for all we’d put our loving parents and others who care for us through? Or have we been too proud to admit that we were wrong and stayed away, if not physically then at least in a more distant relationship with those loving parents and others? How many families have been torn apart in just this way?

Jesus’ teaching here of course is that we should have the humility to accept our faults, our sins against God and our neighbour, and the courage to ask for forgiveness. To ask forgiveness from God obviously, but also to try to put things right with those who’ve been hurt because of our selfish actions. But we can also see in the story of the younger son, a warning to listen to what those who love us are saying, before we act, and to think about what we’re going to do, before we do it. And, as Christians, the advice we need to listen to above all is that Jesus offers us in the Gospel.

The second character in the parable is the father. As I said, the father represents God, so he is a loving father who no doubt tried to advise his youngest son about the potential problems he was heading for, just as God the Father has tried to advise his children through the law, the prophets and by sending his own Son into the world. But God’s advice is often ignored, and we go on along our own rocky and often far from sweet way, while he looks on and weeps. And I use that word quite deliberately because Jesus wept for Jerusalem and it’s people who were heading for disaster because they wouldn’t listen to what the Father was saying to them through him. And how many times have we been in a situation like that, when someone we love, one of our children or perhaps a sibling or dear friend was about to make a big mistake and we’ve tried to talk sense into them, but they wouldn’t listen.

In the parable, the father gives his son what he asks for and lets him go. And that’s because he loves his son. Because love does let go. Love can’t be forced, so we can’t force those we love to do what we want them to do, even out of love . We might want to; we might want to scream at  them to stop or even physically stop them from doing what they’re about to do. But if we love them, in the end we will let them go. Just as God lets us go. And I’m sure that anyone who has children knows that feeling. But perhaps we’ve experienced it with siblings and friends too. The thing about the father in the parable is that, even though his youngest son doesn’t listen, and it does all end in tears, he doesn’t stop loving his son. And when his son finally comes to his senses and comes home, the father welcomes him with open arms.

But when we’ve found ourselves in situations like this, how have we reacted to the return of a prodigal? Have we welcomed them in the way the father in the parable welcomes his returning son, or have we got on our high horse and said something along the lines of,

“Oh, you’re back are you? Finally come to your senses have you? I told you, but would you listen? No. Because you always know best don’t you? Well I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

But that’s not the response of love is it? We might be happy to see the prodigal return but our pride, that was wounded because this person didn’t listen to us in the first place, us who was the one who actually did know best all along, our wounded pride wins out over our love and we beat the returning prodigal up a bit, at least verbally and emotionally, until we come to our senses, realise just how happy we really are to see this person again, and allow love to show itself. Again, how many families and relationships have been torn apart in this way. Because love has had to wait until anger and wounded pride has subsided?

But what a pretty pickle we’d be in if God the Father treated us in this way. Actually, we do find in the Old Testament, that God does punish people for their sinful ways, but only until they come  to their senses and return to him. And that’s really the central message of the parable of the Prodigal Son, that it doesn’t matter how stupid we’ve been, it doesn’t matter if we haven’t listened in the past, it doesn’t matter if we’ve lived a bad life in the past, as soon as we come to our senses and return to God and his ways, he will welcome us with open arms and rejoice over us as one who,

‘…was dead, and is alive; …was lost, and is found.’

Because he loves us. And our love for others is supposed to mirror his love for us and for all his children. So we should treat the returning prodigals in our lives with a love that’s stronger than anger and pride. Always.

That brings us to the third character in the parable, the elder son. And again this is a character we must all be able to identify with. The elder son is not happy at all that his wayward younger brother has been so warmly welcomed home by their father. And why should he be, he’s worked hard for his father, never caused him any trouble or pain, and never asked for anything from him. And yet now, this idiot, this disgrace, who has done all these things, is getting what looks like preferential treatment. Too right he’s not happy.

And we can often be like that can’t we? We think others are getting preferential treatment, and what really annoys us is that we think it’s usually quite undeserved. We go about our business, whatever that might be, quietly and efficiently, we don’t make a fuss, we simply get on with things. And yet others who don’t do nearly as much as we do but do make a big fuss, seem to be better thought of than we are. It happens a lot at work doesn’t it? But it happens in other places too. I used to get really annoyed at school, for example, when someone whose work was usually marked D or E would get praised to the rafters for getting a C. Whereas I, and others, who’d usually get an A or B would get roasted for putting a piece of C grade work in. It didn’t seem fair. So I’m sure we can all identify with the elder son.

But going back to my school days, one of my friends used to struggle at school because he couldn’t read very well, but he was my friend, so I used to help him. And I’d encourage him and praise him for getting work finished, regardless of the standard because I knew how hard it was for him to do any schoolwork. So what was the difference? Well, he was my friend and others perhaps weren’t. And what I was doing to help and encourage him was in private, between me and him, whereas what annoyed me so much was the praise given out in class by teachers; it was done in public. And that suggests that pride had something to do with why I found this kind of thing so annoying doesn’t it. I didn’t like people whom I thought weren’t as hard working as me (nor anywhere near as clever as me it must be said) being praised in public.

We can all get so annoyed about what we see as the unfairness of people being given what looks like preferential treatment can’t we. But do we ever stop to think about the ways we can show preferential treatment to some people and how unfair that might seem to those who don’t receive it from us? Do we ever stop to think about the circumstances behind what we see as preferential treatment? Do we ever consider that part of the reason, at least, why we find this kind of thing so annoying is actually rooted in our own pride and our jealousy of others?

Jesus tells us not to judge others because if we do, the standards we use to judge, and the standards we use to judge others are impossibly high at times, far higher than we can ever live up to ourselves, those standards will be used to judge us. But we do judge others, we judge situations and the people in those situations without knowing the full story behind what’s going on. Our pride and jealousy stop us from rejoicing at a sinner come to their senses, for example, because we think we deserve more than them because we think that we’re better than them. And what’s lacking in this? Love; the love of a father for his returning son, or the love of the Father for all his wayward, undeserving children, for all of us.

That’s an example of how we can engage with a Bible story more deeply by seeing ourselves as part of the story, as the people we’re reading about. If we can do that, we can imagine how we would feel in those circumstances. And that should make it easier to take the meaning of the story and apply it to ourselves. So I do encourage you to try it. We’re now half-way through Lent so perhaps you could try it as a spiritual exercise between now and Holy Week. I’m sure you’d learn something more about the story you choose, and you might just find out a bit more about yourself too.

Amen.


Propers for the 4th Sunday of Lent (Mothering Sunday) 30th March 2025

Entrance Antiphon
Rejoice, Jerusalem, and all who love her.
Be joyful, all who were in mourning;
exult and be satisfied at her consoling breast.

The Collect
Lent 4
O God, who through your Word
reconciles the human race to yourself in a wonderful way,
grant, we pray, that with prompt devotion and eager faith,
the Christian people may hasten toward the solemn celebrations to come.
Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son,
who lives and reigns with you in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
God, for ever and ever.
Amen.

Mothering Sunday
God of compassion,
whose Son Jesus Christ, the child of Mary,
shared the life of a home in Nazareth,
and on the cross drew the whole human family to himself:
strengthen us in our daily living,
that in joy and in sorrow,
we may know the power of your presence to bind together and to heal;
through Jesus Christ your Son our Lord,
who is alive and reigns with you,
in the unity of the Holy Spirit,
one God, now and for ever.
Amen.

The Readings
Joshua 5:9-12
Psalm 34:2-7
2 Corinthians 5:17-21
Luke 15:1-3, 11-32

Prayer after Communion
O God, who enlightens everyone who comes into this world,
illuminate our hearts, we pray,
with the splendour of your grace,
that we may always ponder what is worthy and pleasing to your majesty,
and love you in all sincerity.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.