Today's Scripture passage and meditation raise some serious questions for me, questions about faith versus presumption. On the one hand, I have seen church advertisements that promise healings and miracles, and have often wondered whether this was not something like expecting that God, like a trained seal, would jump through hoops and do their bidding. On the other hand, I have seen and experienced things that can only be described as miracles. So, my question remains. When should we have faith and expect God to do 'the impossible', and when should we not? I know that far too often we do not even ask, but then, just when should we be asking--and expecting? I'm afraid that in this I am still very much a learner.

A new covenant, a new agreement between God and us humans, one that is now written within our hearts. A new covenant that is now enabled and meditated by the Holy Spirit, and that now gives us a new start. Wow. This is good news, great news, for all of us. A new beginning where we can start over again, that is what our passage and our meditation for today are all about.

It is true, so wonderfully true: Jesus has taken our sins, all of them, past, present and future, and removed them forever, forgotten and buried in the ocean of His forgetfulness. And none of this comes as a matter of our deserving or merit. It is entirely a gift, a free gift, from a loving and merciful God. That means that every day is a brand new beginning, a new start. It does not mean that our past has no impact upon us or that it doesn't have any consequences or repercussions, but that today we can start afresh, knowing that God has dealt with all of that. As I used to say in my more 'down times', 'wow, I haven't messed up this day yet!' Yes, indeed, today is a new day, one for us and God to face together, with renewed confidence and a profound sense of relief. Thanks be to God.

There are many things in our world today, and in our personal lives, that can make us uncomfortable or uneasy. Of course, there is covid and its impacts and developments, the situation in Ukraine and elsewhere in the world, and countless other things as well, things big and small. So, how do we react when we encounter such things? Do we try to shunt them aside or dispel them, as did the people who encountered Jesus and the demoniacs? And, like them, do we thereby dismiss the possibility that God might be at work, albeit unseen or unnoticed? Perhaps God is at work in some of the above mentioned things that make us uncomfortable as well? Maybe, like those people, we need to see with new eyes what God might be doing. Anyway, there's an idea to ponder.

Friendship is always been something highly extolled among us humans, but have we ever taken the time to think of what friendship with God might mean? Moses was described as being friends with God, and look what it meant for him. He was able to go on, persevere and put up with things (and people) that most of us never could have. And, then, of course, Jesus describes Himself as our friend (John 15:15). I can scarcely think of all that this might mean. I think that it is something that we need to 'unpack' a bit more.

Recently, I came across a fund-raising letter, a financial appeal, from another denomination. It laid out a broad vision for the raising up, equipping and training of parish clergy, and, as a vital part of this plan, suggested reviving the practice of curacies. (For those unfamiliar with the idea it consists of placing a newly ordained person with a senior priest for a pre-established length of time, in order that the new person can learn from the more senior person, to 'learn the ropes' as it were, but under a supervised, safer platform. The proposal in this letter was that these new positions could be funded from three streams, from the sponsoring diocese, from the parish in question, and from the personal fund-raising of the new clergy person. In times past--at least in the dioceses that I was familiar with--the financial burden fell just on the parish in question, and so most parishes could simply not afford it. This plan seems to be a way around that.

All of this put me in mind of two things. Firstly, of my own privileged position. Not only was I raised in the church and able to experience so much of it first hand, both as an ordinary lay person but then from positions of leadership was well, but I also was able to serve in two internships and one curacy--and from a very wide perspective to say the least, an immense inner city church, a widely dispersed rural parish and a suburban big city parish! What a privilege to have that kind of mentoring and that kind of practical, hands-on experience!

But not only that: we see something of that kind of mentoring all over the Scriptures as well, in today's lesson and elsewhere. I happen to think that it is something that we should take up again, and be much more intentional about--not only with those in leadership but also with the rank and file, the ordinary people in the pews.

Today's passage from Acts is one of those pivotal points, one of those turning points, of Biblical history. All sorts of things stemmed from it, and yet, at its onset, it seemed to be anything but significant or earth-shattering. It was one of those opportunities that could easily have been missed or not taken up on.

My suspicion is that life, our lives, are like that, namely that opportunities abound, are all around us, just waiting for us to seize upon. I pray that with the guidance and help of God, we may indeed take up on them.

Today's passage, to me at least, raised the head of a not always appreciated but needed sense of gratitude, something not always welcome because we often feel that we deserve it or had it coming. And yet, all that we have, whether in terms of our faith, or elsewhere, is actually a gift, wholly unmerited and unearned, from a loving and gracious God.

Today’s meditation (and of course, Jesus' words as well) had to do with obedience, which isn't entirely that popular in this 'I'll do what I want', 'I'll do it my way', kind of world. For many people, anything that impinges on my personal choice, my personal freedom, is frowned upon and yet, that is exactly what the gospel calls for. We surrender to God and to each other, not because we necessarily want to, or because it is obviously 'good for us' but because it is for the common good or according to the will of God.

Today is Ascension Day, which Luke depicts as a real, actual literal event--Jesus ascending literally into some place called Heaven. But in this day and age of space travel and increased knowledge of the universe, what does that mean? Just where is this heaven? And, more importantly, what does it mean--in practical terms--to know that Jesus is there? Those are some of the questions that I try to address in today's meditation. I hope you find it helpful.

It is also a great time to meditate on one of the great themes of the Christian faith, namely the identity of Jesus. Today's Scripture reading touched off the subject, and I have added some of my own thoughts on the topic, just to add to the mix, and add to the discussion. I hope you find all this helpful and illuminating.

As I look back on my long years of ordained ministry, there is one thing that I must say that I regret, and that is, a failure on the part of the churches I served to embark on meaningful and disciplined studies of the faith. We had Alpha and occasional Bible studies or course on some spiritual topic, but nothing intentional and ongoing. For myself, I was often tied up with other tasks, that really, when it came down to it, were not vital at all, or at very least, not vital for me as the pastor to be taking care of. For this reason, I think that we often have stunted or baby Christians in terms of their faith, which is not good at all.

One of my favourite character traits is that of curiosity, of wanting to know more. We see this in Moses when he encountered the burning bush in the Sinai Desert. He wanted to know how it could be burning and yet not consumed. And we see this character trait repeatedly in Jesus' disciples: it seems as if they are always asking questions. And, in the Acts of the Apostles we read of the congregation in Berea (Acts 17:11-12) who daily searched the Scriptures to see if the things that Paul spoke of were true. One of my profs once said that the only stupid question was the one that wasn't asked. So, surely a spirit of enquiry is something to be desired, and something that our Lord most graciously blesses.

Certain images from the past, such as pie-in-the-sky in the by and by, or a mansion over the hilltops, have never quite appealed to me, mostly, I guess, because I have lived a pretty comfortable existence in this life, here on earth. So, for that reason, many of the usual descriptions of heaven haven't really struck a chord with me. But today's image, where political and personal strife and wrong-doing are gone, where illness is eliminated in the face of immediate healing, and where we can actually relate to God on more personal, intimate terms, are very appealing. Read the passage, and my accompanying meditation, and see what you think.

Sad to say but sometimes things can become so familiar that we scarcely even notice or pay attention to them anymore. They become like an old comfortable work shirt or pair of shoes. They become so much part of them that we take them for granted and fail to really take note of them anymore. Unfortunately, familiar pieces of the Scriptures can become like that, say, The Lord's Prayer or the 23rd Psalm. Actually, when it comes down to it, the 23rd Psalm is quite radical--if (and this is a bit 'if') it is taken seriously and acted upon. That is what today's meditation is about. I hope you find it both inspiring--and challenging.

Today's passage has to be one of the most challenging--and misused--pieces of all of Scripture. It has to do with the measure or standard that we use in our assessment and treatment of others, something that would well be a matter of self-examination and prayer for each of us as often those measures or standards of assessment are unconscious and almost part of our very being. Anyway, I hope this meditation finds you well and provides you with lots of food for thought and prayer.

Someone once said that worry is like a rocking chair: it gives you something to do but doesn't get you anywhere. Today's passage from the Sermon on the Mount, and my accompanying message, deal with this perennial problem. I hope you find this helpful.

Today's passage and meditation put me in mind of an old adage, namely that we need to always remember 'who we are, and whose we are.' Seeing as we serve a God of holiness, we are called to imitate Him and be like Him in our conduct. A tough order indeed, but not one that He saddles us with without also providing infinite help and assistance. Have a great day.

today's meditation, on the Lord's Prayer, gave me a new perspective, a new sense of priorities about God and us.

Monday gave me the idea of God 'having our back' no matter what.