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.

Sermon for Lent 3, 23rd March 2025

If I were to ask you, ‘What does it mean to be a Christian?’ I hope that everyone would answer that it means to be a disciple of Christ. And if I were to ask what that means, I hope that everyone would answer that it means to follow Christ by modelling our lives on his example, to be like Christ in so far as we’re able. But if I were to ask how we might go about that, then I think I’d start to get some rather different answers from people.

For example, I’ve heard many people describe Jesus as the first socialist and so for them, being a Christian is often about caring for people,  especially for the weaker members of society. On the other hand, the Church of England has often been described as ‘the Tory Party at prayer’ and I don’t think I’d be wrong to say that most people who go to church in this country at least are small c conservatives. By that I don’t mean supporters of the Conservative Party, but that they’re conservative in their views; they don’t like change (and people have heard me speak about that often enough) they like to maintain traditions and traditional ways of doing things. So for many people, being a Christian has a lot to do with being what society thinks of as a good, upstanding citizen. Perhaps, dare I say, with being a ‘good’ person.

But therein lies a problem, and it’s a very big problem for us when it comes living out our faith and when it comes to teaching others the faith, to mission and evangelism. The answer to the question ‘What does it mean to be a Christian?’ can be very similar for many people, but when it comes to what that means in practice, to living out being a follower of Jesus Christ, the answers can become very subjective and more about what we think than about what Jesus said and did.

And I’m sure we’ve all come across this. How many people have we heard say that Christinas shouldn’t drink alcohol? Where does that come from? It’s certainly not from Jesus because he drank wine and if it is wrong to drink alcohol what kind of hypocrite was Jesus turning all that water into wine and then letting people who were already drunk, have even more to drink? When I used to ride on the speedway, I had a priest telling me it was wrong because competing against other people was un-Christian. I don’t recall ever reading that in the Gospel and in fact, St Paul uses athletic competition to help illustrate the way Christians should live. And what about that most awful of sayings among church going people,

‘We don’t want their sort here.’ But didn’t God send his Son into the world to save the world? He didn’t send him to save only those who we think are nice, respectable people did he? And we know that Jesus made a point of ministering to those whom his society thought were unrespectable, sinners, tax-collectors, lepers, prostitutes, the hated Romans and perhaps even more hated Samaritans. If we think about these things, we very soon realise that what people often can and do pass off as Christianity is actually nothing more than the standards and values of the society they live in and their own subjective opinions about what’s right and wrong, good and bad, worthy and unworthy. And how can we teach other people what it means to be a Christian if the example of our own lives is largely based on our own subjective views and opinions and on our own subjective version of Jesus and his teaching, rather than on the teaching and example of Christ himself?

But our subjective approach to Christianity doesn’t only hinder our efforts at mission and evangelism, it has a very detrimental effect on our discipleship too because we can take the same subjective approach towards sin.

If we are in any way serious about our faith, we won’t deny that we are sinners. But isn’t it true that we have a tendency to downplay our own sins? And we very often do that by comparing our sins to what we see as the far worse sins of others. So, for example, someone might annoy us to the extent that we think we’d like to punch them in the face. But we don’t actually do it. And to us in our subjective view of things, that makes us not so bad. We recognise that sin of thought, we know we shouldn’t think those things, but we absolve ourselves to some extent, or perhaps even completely, by thinking that at least we didn’t actually punch them in the face and that makes us a lot better than the person who turns that kind of though into action and does whack that annoying person in the face. But while some sins are worse than others, we can’t for example, compare even someone who does punch another person in the face with the crimes of Jack the Ripper, let alone of Adolf Hitler and the Nazis. But nevertheless, sin is sin, and whatever the sin is, we shouldn’t be doing it. And we see this is what Jesus says to us in this morning’s Gospel.

We have to remember that, in Jesus’ day, misfortune was seen as a judgement and punishment from God on miscreants.

And so the people Jesus speaks of in the Gospel, the Galileans whose blood was shed and those crushed when the Tower of Siloam fell on them, would have been seen as terrible people whose fate had been handed out to them by God as their just deserts for their sins. But what Jesus says is that their sins, whatever they were, were no worse than anybody else’s. And he says to the crowd that unless they repent of their own sins, and again we’re not told what they were, they too would perish. And the meaning is clear. The punishment for sin is death, and it makes no difference what we think about the gravity of the sin, whatever our sins are, we all have to repent or die. And this makes it clear that we simply can’t afford to look at sin in a subjective way. We can’t say or think that we’ll be all right because our sins are not as bad as someone else’s sins. All sin is wrong, and all sin will be judged in the same way and carry the same sentence. And no matter how trivial or insignificant we think our sins are, and no matter how much better than others we think we are because of that, we all have to repent. We all have to seek forgiveness, repent and do our utmost to sin no more. The good news for us, is that we still have time to do that, and that’s the meaning of the parable of the fig tree at the end of this morning’s Gospel.

Strictly speaking, this is a parable about Israel. They are the unfruitful fig tree that’s about to be dug up because they’ve had ample time to bear fruit but hadn’t; they’d had ample time to repent, turn to the Lord and be saved, but hadn’t done it. The manure, although I hesitate to use such a word in connection, is Jesus, the Word made flesh who represents Israel’s last chance to turn from their sinful ways and bear fruit for God. But the parable applies to us too. We’ve all had time to repent, turn to the Lord and bear fruit. And I’m sure we all have borne fruit, but I’m equally sure that none of us has produced as much fruit as we might have done. But we still have time. And we can still be fertilised, shall I say, by Jesus. We can still be fed with God’s Word through listening to Jesus’ teaching and doing our best to follow his example. But time is running out. We might not be slaughtered on our way to church in the fashion of the Galileans in this  morning’s Gospel. We might not be crushed to death by a falling building as those who died when the Tower of Siloam fell on them were. But one day will be our last day and then our time for repentance, for turning to the Lord and bearing fruit so that we can be saved will be up. So if we want to be saved, the time for repentance is now, while we still have that time.

And as Jesus makes clear in this morning’s Gospel, it doesn’t matter how serious we think our sins are compared to anyone else’s, they are still sins and we still need to repent.

Just over a week ago I had my biannual Ministerial Development Review. That’s a one-on-one interview with a member of the senior clergy in the diocese, and among the things we discussed was the problem of proclaiming the faith and of being a parish priest at this time when we’re being constantly bombarded, it seems, with news of scandals in the Church, of curious and even dubious statements from senior Church leaders and in a time of great change for and in the Church which the majority of our small c conservative congregations aren’t happy about.  And we agreed that, at our own local level, all we can do is be the very best that we can be. To be as faithful to the teaching and example of Christ as we can be. But we will only be that and can only be that if we get rid of that subjective approach to our faith and discipleship that actually is the root of so many of our problems, and we begin to look at Christ’s teaching and example objectively and indeed look at ourselves objectively in the light of Christ’s teaching and example. Or to put it another way, when we stop trying to bend Christ to our ways and bend ourselves to his way.

I said a little earlier that the majority of people who come to church are small c conservatives, people who by nature, don’t like change. But the Christian’s calling is to change, and above all to change ourselves from what we were and are into what Christ calls us to be, and God wants us to be. But we’ll only make that change if we can stop being so subjective in our understanding of our faith and in our living it out in our daily lives. So let’s try to be more objective in these things so that we can change, so that we can repent, turn to the Lord, bear fruit and be saved. So that, whatever is going on in the wider Church, people can look at us and say here, at least, are people who are worthy of the name ‘Christians’ people who understand the faith they preach and practice it.  And let’s at least start to do that now, while we still have time.

Amen.


Propers for the 3rd Sunday of Lent, 23rd March 2025

Entrance Antiphon
My eyes are always on the Lord,
for he rescues my feet from the snare.
Turn to me and have mercy on me,
for I am alone and poor.

The Collect
O God, author of every mercy and of all goodness,
who in fasting, prayer and almsgiving have shown us a remedy for sin,
look graciously on this confession of our lowliness,
that we, who are bowed down by our conscience,
may always be lifted up by your mercy.
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
Exodus 3:1-8, 13-15
Psalm 103:1-4, 6-8, 11
1 Corinthians 10:1-6, 10-12
Luke 13:1-9

Prayer after Communion
As we receive the pledge of things yet hidden in heaven,
and are nourished while still on earth with the Bread that comes from on high,
we humbly entreat you, O Lord,
that what is being brought about in us in mystery
may come to true completion.
Through Christ our Lord.
Amen.