In the Christian journey, we often hear that the path is always one of unwavering faith. Yet, there are moments of profound doubt, spiritual “wobbles” that shake the very foundation. Recently, as my discernment towards ordination and the growth of our Titus 1:9 ministry draw closer, I’ve experienced the most Read more
As Anglo-Catholics and those who cherish the Society of Our Lady of Walsingham, we adore the great Christian Feast of the Nativity. Every year, we prepare our hearts through Advent, hungrily awaiting the joyous moment when we sing carols and celebrate the Incarnation of Our Lord. Midnight Mass is a Read more
One can sense even more so as we sit here in 2025, a deep longing for peace, a hushed expectancy in homes and churches across the land, an excitement that finds its focus in a single point in human history where a child in a manger in Bethlehem (the ‘House of Bread’) born to die, bears the weight of humanity’s sin.
Often at this time of year, we may find ourselves thinking about grace and about the disciple who betrayed Jesus, the one who is a byword for disloyalty and duplicitous two-faced behaviour — Judas.
As the days grow short and the year turns towards its end, our thoughts and our liturgies naturally and inevitably drift towards that small Judean town whose name echoes through the centuries. We picture a stable, a star, a mother and her child. Yet within that familiar scene lies a deeper, more nourishing narrative waiting to be traced, a trail of meaning that leads from ancient grain fields to the very heart of our worship.
Ultimately, that’s the problem with power – those who seek to keep it shall lose it either by their own doing or that of a wiser/stronger person but ultimately because The Lord wills it.
The Twelve Days of Christmas is far more than a familiar seasonal refrain; it is a sophisticated mnemonic that conveys core Christian teachings through symbolic imagery. Rooted in centuries of tradition—and shaped during periods of religious tension—the carol offers a structured journey through foundational doctrines, reminding us of faith’s resilience and the enduring value of cultural memory. As modern life accelerates, its quiet wisdom invites a renewed appreciation of heritage, meaning and continuity.
Let’s be honest for a moment. Sometimes, in the quiet of a prayer or the chaos of the news cycle, a very human frustration bubbles up. It is the elephant in the room that we often feel too polite to mention: Lord, what is taking You so long? It has Read more
The Laodicean context of tepid self-reliance finds its direct parallel in the modern church’s temptation to measure its vitality by cultural influence, financial security, and numerical growth rather than by the fiery, refining work of the Spirit in the heart of the believer. The transaction when we dig deeper is therefore one of faith itself – a relinquishing of our own metrics of “success” to receive from Christ a success, a wealth that is purified through trial and anchored in eternity.
The loss of a child is a grief that words can scarcely capture, a sorrow that leaves families and friends navigating a landscape of profound pain. In the face of such tragedy, those who wish to offer comfort can feel helpless, while those who grieve can feel utterly alone. How do people of faith respond to a pain so deep? What solace can be found when the world has shattered?