The Christian faith declares that “in him all things hold together” (Colossians 1:17), and modern physics unwittingly testifies to this truth. Matter is far stranger than it appears, with atoms mostly empty space and subatomic particles held together by forces calibrated with breathtaking precision. Science can describe this fine-tuning but cannot explain why it holds. Scripture can: the universe coheres because Christ sustains it by the word of his power.
When Jesus invited people to “come and see,” He offered no programme, no strategy document, and no measurable outcomes beyond the transformation of human hearts. In three simple words, Christ extended an invitation that has echoed through twenty centuries of Christian witness. Perhaps the modern Church, with all its well-intentioned structures and initiatives, needs to recover something of this radical simplicity. What might it mean for our congregations to strip back the layers of institutional complexity and simply invite people to encounter the living Christ, just as Andrew and John did on that first extraordinary afternoon?
When a post-exilic prophet spoke of God’s name being great “from the rising of the sun to its setting,” he uttered words that must have seemed impossible to his struggling community in Jerusalem. Yet today, young people in Britain, America and Europe are returning to churches their parents abandoned, whilst Iranian, Syrian and other Arab Muslims risk everything to worship Jesus in secret house churches across the Middle East. Malachi’s ancient prophecy is unfolding before our eyes in ways that challenge our assumptions about where faith flourishes and who the missionaries really are. This isn’t just history or theology – it’s the story of what God is doing right now, in the most unexpected places, through the most unlikely people.
We’ve all been there, haven’t we? That persistent, nagging feeling that something is just a bit off. It’s not necessarily a dramatic crisis of faith, but a subtle, yet powerful, sense of spiritual misalignment. Our position in life, our outward actions, and the inner workings of our mind just don’t Read more
The story of God’s provision, it seems, is meticulously signposted, and our Anglican tradition, with its cherished three-fold cord of scripture, tradition, and reason, is wonderfully equipped to follow the breadcrumbs from prophecy to fulfilment and finally to our parish altar.
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.
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.
Season 1, Episode 1 of FROM THE PEWS with David and Shaun
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.