In difficult times, our simplistic answers stop working. What is life all about? What big story am I part of?
Our experience of life is such a mxi of joy and sorrow, pleasure and suffering. How can we be grateful when the world is so full of suffering? Can we be grateful for, rather than to, the universe?
Some nights, I dream about freedom. About walking out the door without a mask, or having friends over to my house to have dinner together. To booking a plane ticket to, well, anywhere really, and being confident that I wouldn’t have to cancel it and add it to my enormous mountain of flight credit vouchers. But what does it mean to be really free – free in a way which lockdowns don’t touch?
When it comes to Easter, what I want is the Hollywood version. No, scrub that. I want the Bollywood version – all synchronize song and dance numbers and glorious technicolor. Instead, what Mark gives us is something altogether stranger. But perhaps this strange, even broken, account of the Good News is precisely what we need in our context.
When we picture Jesus entering Jerusalem, do we imagine the whole of the city turning out to celebrate the arrival of the Messiah? Or is there something altogether stranger happening? What does it all mean?
What is the meaning of Ash Wednesday? And what does this famous story about a rabbi with two stones have to tell us?
One Saturday morning almost two thousand years ago, a locally famous young man walked into the synagogue of his adopted hometown. What happens next will amaze you!
The parable of the talents is strange and shocking. It takes place in an alien world of masters and slaves and long journeys, where people hide their talents in holes in the ground, and where great rewards and mysterious punishments await. But what if, at the heart of the story, lies the best investment advice ever given?
What does a mysterious story about a late night wedding, 24 hour oil dealerships, and dubious ethical behaviour amongst wise bridesmaids have to say to our anxious age?
Is the Christian hope of Resurrection just an “opiate for the masses”? Or a barbaric reminder of earlier, less scientific times? Or is it something to do with trust?