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
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.
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.
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?
One of the great joys of reading the Bible with the mind of the Church is spotting the threads of divine gold woven through its pages. A story that begins in a garden finds its astonishing conclusion in a city-garden, and the One who spoke the first “Let there be light” is the same Lamb who is its eternal lamp.
In a world that often demands conformity, outward virtue, meekness and humility, many men find themselves trapped in a cycle of uninspiring monotony
The recent appointment of a Dame Sara Mullally to the seat of Archbishop of Canterbury may well represent the culmination of decades of theological drift within the Church of England. While it is easy to view such an event merely as another step in the Church’s journey towards “inclusion,” it might also be seen, through the eyes of faith, as a sober act of divine judgement. The question before us is not one of equality or culture, but of fidelity to the revealed will of God and the order He has established for His Church.
It’s amazing what you think about as you cycling in the morning, going nowhere fast in the gym and today was no different. I write this on Tuesday 7th October 2025 and yesterday, as I was driving home there was a most amazing moon.
I stood in the bright sunlight of deepest Norfolk, my friend David had walked slightly ahead to the reception area, a place as far from my theological home as I could imagine. Before me was the Shrine of Our Lady of Walsingham. A gnawing sense of trepidation, a legacy perhaps Read more
