The book of Nahum in the Bible, nestled between Micah and Habakkuk, is not easy to read. (Go on, admit it: you didn’t know there was a book called Nahum, or if you did, you can’t remember ever reading it!). Its central theme is the unadulterated and undisguised joy and delight at the catastrophe about to befall one of the enemies of Judah. Yet if we can get beyond the apparent vindictive delight of the prophet, the words carry a very significant message, for the point is that justice will finally be done. The first hearers in Judah, despite years of oppression by the Assyrian empire, held onto their faith and belief with tremendous resilience. Sure enough, within a few years, the seemingly impregnable dynasty was to fall, and a new superpower, Babylon, emerged to take its place in the ancient world. In recent years, we have seen some equally remarkable events occur in our lifetimes: the fall of the Berlin Wall, the end of apartheid, the end of the Cold War, the period of change that has seen dictators like Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi overthrown, along with countless others brought to justice in the International Court in The Hague. That is not to say that all is well with the world; far from it. The war between Israel and Hamas in Gaza is fast becoming a human atrocity bordering on genocide. We seem to be slipping quickly into conditions that could lead to another world war if humanity is not careful. The unacceptable levels of violence on our streets and in our cities are reaching epic proportions. Rates of addiction and suicide, particularly among teenagers and college-age young people, are increasing at an alarming rate. Put simply, we see more and more incidents of apparent injustice and intolerance in our cities and worldwide. Yet at the heart of the Christian gospel is the deep conviction that God, with his immense power, is actively involved in human affairs and history, striving to establish his kin-dom despite everything that conspires to frustrate his purpose. Nahum has this to say, “The Lord is slow to anger but great in power, and the Lord will by no means clear the guilty. His way is in whirlwind and storm, and the clouds are the dust of his feet. Who can stand before his indignation? Who can endure the heat of his anger? The Lord is good, a stronghold in a day of trouble; he protects those who take refuge in him, even in a rushing flood. He will make a full end of his adversaries and will pursue his enemies into darkness. Why do you plot against the Lord? He will make an end; no adversary will rise up twice. Like thorns they are entangled, like drunkards they are drunk; they are consumed like dry straw” (Nahum 1:3,6a,7-10) Do you find yourself troubled at times by the apparent injustices in life? Are there events in history not mentioned above or within your own life experience that help restore your faith in justice in this world and the one to come? Perhaps this can be our prayer this week? Lord teach me that you are always at work in the world striving against everything that frustrates your will and denies your love. Teach me to hold onto those moments in life when wrongs have been righted and justice has been done at last, for in those moments, we find hope. Above all, teach me to look at the cross of Christ, and to draw strength from the victory of love over what had seemed to be the triumph of evil. Shalom to you my friend, Pastor Andrew

I hope you were able to experience the Solar Eclipse this week. I want to share my thoughts and reflections on this amazing event. Like millions of others, I watched this solar and lunar dance with awe and amazement. In the vast cosmic theater, where celestial bodies pirouette across the velvet expanse, the moon, that silent sentinel of the night, steps boldly before the sun, casting its shadow upon our world, and we get to witness a divine choreography. It is a moment when the mundane bows to the transcendent, and the ordinary yields to the extraordinary. As the moon glides across the sun’s fiery countenance, darkness descends—a gradual dimming that defies our daily rhythms. Birds cease their songs, and the air grows cooler. In this cosmic pas de deux, the sun, our life-giver, becomes veiled, its brilliance obscured. We stand on Earth, cradled by gravity, and gaze upward, our eyes shielded by protective lenses. The sun’s corona, a halo of ethereal light, emerges—an ephemeral revelation of hidden beauty. For me, the solar eclipse mirrors the human condition—a paradox of light and darkness. We, too, experience moments when our inner sun—the radiant core of our being—is momentarily eclipsed. Life’s trials, doubts, and grief cast shadows upon our souls. Yet, like the sun, we possess an inner corona—an ineffable resilience that shines forth even in our darkest hours. The eclipse reminds us that light persists, even when obscured. During totality, when the sun vanishes entirely, silence envelops the land. Animals retreat, and humans hush their voices. It is as if the universe holds its breath, awaiting revelation. In this stillness, we encounter the sacred—the numinous presence that transcends empirical understanding. Theologians call it theophany—the moment when the veil between the finite and the infinite grows thin. Perhaps, during an eclipse, we glimpse eternity. Science unveils the mechanics of the eclipse—the alignment of orbits, the geometry of shadows. Yet, faith whispers another truth—the cosmic dance is not random but orchestrated. The Creator, whose hands flung galaxies into existence, now orchestrates this celestial ballet. Science and faith need not be adversaries; they waltz together, revealing different facets of truth. The eclipse invites us to marvel at both the how and the why. I enjoyed the eclipse with dozens of friends as we celebrated the eclipse and Carolyn’s birthday. Eclipses unite humanity. Across cultures and epochs, people gather to witness this cosmic spectacle. In ancient times, they interpreted it as divine wrath or cosmic battles. Today, we marvel at the celestial mechanics. Yet, whether we invoke gods or equations, we share a common awe. The eclipse reminds us that we are part of a cosmic family—a fragile blue dot suspended in the cosmic vastness. Our shared wonder transcends borders and beliefs. As the moon relinquishes its hold on the sun, light floods back—a gradual resurrection. Birds resume their songs, and warmth returns. We remove our protective glasses, blinking at the rekindled brilliance. The eclipse leaves an indelible mark—a reminder that darkness is transient and light prevails. It beckons us to seek the inner corona—the resilient flame within us—and to embrace theophany in our everyday lives. In the language of the cosmos, the solar eclipse whispers: “Look up, mortal soul. Witness the dance of shadows, the paradox of light and darkness. Seek the sacred silence, and know that you are part of a grand design. Return to the light, for even in your darkest moments, grace awaits.” And so, we lift our eyes to the heavens, grateful for this celestial embrace—a fleeting encounter with the divine. Shalom to you my friend, Pastor Andrew

Are you familiar with the very well-known Russian children’s story, well fable really, The Little Red Hen? In it, the hen finds some corn and asks her friends around the farmyard, “Who will help me sow the seed?” and the answer comes, “Not I.” “Who will help me reap the harvest?” asks the hen, “not I,” comes the answer again. “Who will help me grind the flour? Knead the dough? Bake the loaf?” “Not I … Not I… Not I.” Then, finally, the all-important question, “Who will help me eat the bread?” and, immediately, a change of tune, “Me! Me! Me!” Human nature is so often so fickle; our loyalty and friendship often depend on what’s in it for me. Reflect on that first Holy Week that began when Jesus entered Jerusalem, riding on a donkey to the jubilant shouts of Hosanna! Blessed is the Son of David! His actions seemed to ask, ‘Who will welcome me as king?’ and the crowds eagerly responded, “Me.” ‘Who wants to share in the kingdom of God?’ and again, the answer was ‘Me!’ However, just a few days later, the all-important question was, ‘Who will follow the way of the cross?' The response from many was starkly different: ‘Not I! or, to put it more accurately, ‘We have no king but Caesar. Crucify! Crucify! Crucify!' Palm Sunday and Holy Week challenge us about our loyalty, asking how ready we are to follow when faith is demanding and the going gets tough. As the events of Holy Week remind us, the disciple Peter found that challenge a tough one as, in the courtyard of the high priest, he was challenged three times and denied he was a follower of Jesus. Yet, Holy Week is also about the one who, however often we may change our tune, stays faithful to us to the point of death on a cross. Are you ready to embrace the cost as well as the rewards of service? Have you grasped the profound truth that the Servant King and the King of Kings are one and the same? This understanding is not just a theological concept, but a call to action, a challenge to our faith and loyalty. Perhaps this could be your prayer this week? Lord Jesus Christ, I thank you that though I am faithful to you in so little, you are faithful in so much; that though I repeatedly change my tune, your love never fails. To you be praise and glory, now and forever. Amen. (Nick Fawcett). Shalom to you my friend, Pastor Andrew

As Jesus said all this, several people believed in him. So Jesus spoke to the Judaeans who had believed in him ‘If you remain in my word,’ he said, ‘you really will be my disciples, and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.’ ‘We are Abraham’s descendants!’ they replied. ‘We’ve never been anyone’s slaves! How can you say that “You’ll become free”?’ ‘I’m telling you the solemn truth,’ Jesus replied. ‘Everyone who commits sin is a slave of sin. 35 The slave doesn’t live in the house forever; the son lives there forever. 36 So, you see, if the son makes you free, you will be truly free.’ The speech given by United States Senator Robert F. Kennedy on April 4, 1968, in Indianapolis is deeply rooted in a pivotal moment of American history. This speech occurred spontaneously several hours after the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., a defining event that shook the nation. Kennedy's address to the gathered crowd was not planned; it was an impromptu response to the tragic news that had just unfolded. Despite the lack of organization, the gathering culminated with a unified singing of ‘We Shall Overcome’, an anthem of the civil rights movement symbolizing hope and resilience in the face of adversity. The speech referenced a verse from St John’s gospel, ‘The truth will set you free,’ which resonates profoundly through Christian teachings and emphasizes liberation from various forms of bondage—sin, slavery, law, death, injustice, debt, and tyranny. This message is as relevant today as it was then, highlighting that truth is the pathway to freedom. In a world rife with tyranny and slavery, which are sustained by lies and deceit, truth and freedom are inseparably linked. Kennedy's speech suggested that Jesus offered what many in Israel desired, freedom beyond their expectations. This offer was met with resistance from those who believed they were already free as descendants of Abraham. The speech posed a critical question: what is the truth, and how can it liberate us? In John’s gospel, Jesus is portrayed as the embodiment of truth—a truth that culminates in his crucifixion, an act of love that reveals divine glory. However, Kennedy's speech did not delve into how Jesus' death leads to freedom from sin; it left this contemplation open for interpretation. Yet it is a reminder that while the path to freedom is fraught with challenges, perseverance and unity in truth can lead to overcoming these obstacles. Shalom to you, my friend. Pastor Andrew

The writer of Psalm 14 laments that there is no one in the world who does good. Being a Christian and trying to follow the high calling of Christ can feel very isolating at times. When I watch the news, it seems to be filled with tragedy, wickedness, and, in some cases, downright evil. Most of the time, I feel as if newscasters are only spinning a tale intended to manipulat me. I sympathize, no… I empathize with the psalmist’s words. Everyone has proved faithless; all alike have turned bad; there is none who does good; no, not one. (Psalm 14:3) Of course, this feeling of being alone and wanting to see a world without evil and tragic suffering results from a false perception. The prophet Elijah felt isolated and alone, too! He cried out to God in anguish, “The Israelites have rejected your covenant, torn down your altars, and put your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too.” (1 Kings 19:10) Elijah felt alone and isolated in his zeal for the Lord. He felt threatened by the enemies of the Lord. And yet God told Elijah that there were 7000 in Israel who still revered the God of Israel. He was not alone at all… and God was with him. The people of Israel were defeated by Babylon, a nation that seemed to devour every people and land it chose to subdue. In exile, the people of Israel cried out, “How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever??” (Psalm 13: 1) But the Lord does not forget us... even though we feel alone... even though we may feel isolated among a people who have forgotten their creator. Far from it! God is always working out our redemption from our enemies, whether they be spiritual, societal, or natural oppressors. We know that all things work together for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose. (Romans 8:28) Isaiah writes of a deliverance coming for the exiled Hebrew people through a victor from the east. Who roused this conqueror? Why it is the Lord, the first and last, the Alpha and Omega! Listen to God speak words of assurance to His people. Do not fear, for I am with you, do not be afraid, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my victorious right hand. (Isaiah 41:10) I know that Christianity is sometimes guilty of over-spiritualizing messages in the Bible. Surely, it is true that the battle belongs to the Lord. We know that that battle is in the heart, but this battle against evil is not only a spiritual battle against evil inclinations. It is a battle waged in our real world with all its problems, tyranny, brutality, and want. Our hope is not only in a happy ever after in heaven. Our hope is now, even though we do not yet see what God is doing. We trust that God is with us and God will deliver. He is our help and very present in times of trouble. May the peace that comes through trust in God comfort and strengthen you. Pastor Andrew

As a teenager growing up in the town I lived in, West Yorkshire, I had access to some beautiful moorland countryside and the wonderful Yorkshire Dales. Nowadays, as I did when I was younger, I like to take time away from the city to walk and enjoy the peace nature can offer in so many places. I appreciate being beside water or roaming through trails in woodlands, but I also find some of the more rugged places have a sort of peace and tranquility that can rarely be found elsewhere. In this Lenten period, it is good to find time when you can be alone with God in a different setting and take yourself to a place that can help you think about your life more meaningfully. One of the things that fascinates me about living here in Indiana is how human intervention has opened up the possibilities for this type of exercise and activity. Areas that were once wholly unsuitable or inaccessible have been ‘reclaimed’ to become places of retreat for people like me who enjoy the guided walk of a pathway or trail. It is a reminder of our Christian life, as the first Letter of Peter states, ‘You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people who God has set apart so that you may declare the goodness of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once, you were not a people – now you are the people of God; once you had not obtained forgiveness, you have received mercy.” (1 Peter 2:9-10). By His grace, God has reclaimed you from the inaccessible barren wastelands of your past life and renamed you as part of his chosen people, and he is constantly at work within you to help reshape and redirect your life. It is a lifelong process as we continuously seek to resist the pressure to go our own way. Yet, thanks be to God, though we must play our part; the final victory is not down to us but to him. So why not take time this Lent to ask yourself in what way is God still trying to reclaim, reshape, and redirect you? Are there areas where the old nature is holding back his purpose? Let this Lent be a time for God’s reclamation process to work in your life. Perhaps this can be your prayer. Loving God, I give you praise and thanks for the way you have been at work in my life: the way you have offered me a new beginning, a new identity, and a new sense of purpose, constantly working within me to reclaim, refashion, and redeem me. Remind me that despite my weakness, you are able to take and use me far beyond my expectations. Amen. Shalom to you, Pastor Andrew