Pompous and Verbose

For those who are anxious this day.

Toward the end of my time in high school, I wrote an essay for my English literature class that I thought was probably the best piece of work that I had ever done. It was, therefore, with some excitement that I handed the work to my English teacher, fully expecting an enthusiastic response. I was to be disappointed; her only comment was, “It’s a bit long-winded, isn’t it?’ I should have learned my lesson at that point, I guess, but I recall some years later handing in the draft of the first two chapters of what would become my doctoral thesis, only to get back first among the comments: ‘Pompous and verbose, remember you only have 60,000 words for the whole thing!’ I know that today, some may have the same view regarding my preaching! Many of us use far more words than necessary to get our point across, and that can be especially true when it comes to prayer, not because of any innate wordiness but because we somehow feel we need to spell out everything if God is to answer us. We have probably all been in services where the prayers seem longer than the sermon or thought prayer meetings go on for far too long. Contrast such experiences with the simple model of the prayer given by Jesus to his disciples, and his equally direct advice on the subject in chapter 6 of Matthew’s gospel. Jesus tells us that God knows what we need, even before we ask, and that prayer is for our benefit rather than God’s. It’s the thought rather than the words that matter most to God. Of course, words have their place, but we should never get too caught up in them, nor worry that God won't hear us if our words aren’t perfect. In fact, it's worth considering whether we sometimes miss God's response because we’re too busy talking to listen! Do you struggle to find the right words in prayer? It's okay. How much do words aid us, and how much do they hinder us? The Good News Bible offers these words from the wisdom literature: ‘Be careful about going to the Temple. It is better to go there to learn than to offer sacrifices like foolish people who don't know right from wrong. 2 Think before you speak, and don't make any rash promises to God. He is in heaven, and you are on earth, so don't say any more than you have to.’ (Ecclesiastes 5:1-2) We should take our lead from the disciples of long ago and ask God to teach us how to pray. Perhaps these few words of prayer from my prayer guru, Nick Fawcett, might help this week. ‘Loving God, forgive me the way I sometimes misunderstand and abuse prayer. Teach me not only to speak but also to listen, not just to seek but to find, not simply to bring my requests but also to respond to your call. Remind me that there is a time for words and to keep silent, and help me make room for both.’ Amen Shalom to you, my friend. Pastor Andrew

In our fast-paced, often chaotic lives, losing sight of our purpose is easy. We get caught up in daily routines, work pressures, and personal ambitions. But what if there was a guiding principle that could transform our perspective? The Bible offers us this guidance. “So whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31, ESV). This seemingly simple verse carries profound implications for how we approach every aspect of life. In his letter to the Church in Corinth, Paul acknowledges that we have freedom in Christ, but not everything we’re free to do is beneficial. Some actions may not build us up or contribute positively to our spiritual growth. The call to glorify God challenges us to evaluate our choices. Is what we’re doing truly helpful, or is it merely permissible? Paul goes further, urging us not to seek our own good exclusively but to consider the good of our neighbors. Whether at work, in relationships, or during mundane tasks, we’re called to prioritize the well-being of others. This selflessness reflects God’s character. Glorifying God means maintaining a solid work ethic, even when circumstances are challenging. Whether we like our boss or not, our work reflects our commitment to God. Honesty, diligence, and excellence become acts of worship when done with the right heart. Our thoughts matter. Glorifying God involves setting our minds on things that align with God’s Word. When we choose gratitude over complaint, forgiveness over bitterness, and love over resentment, we honor God. Whether you’re an artist, a scientist, or a chef, your talents can glorify God. Use them to reflect His beauty, truth, and goodness. Imagine a painter creating art that points people to the Creator or a musician composing melodies that stir hearts toward worship. How we treat others matters. Loving our neighbors—whether believers or unbelievers—demonstrates God’s love. Even seemingly mundane conversations can be opportunities to encourage, uplift, and point people to Christ. As we navigate life’s complexities, let’s remember that every moment is an opportunity to glorify God. Whether we’re sipping coffee, typing emails, or caring for our families, let’s do it all with an awareness of His presence. Our lives become a symphony of worship—a beautiful offering to the One who deserves all glory. So, my friend, consider this as you go about your day: How can you glorify God in your next task? Perhaps it’s a smile, a kind word, or a diligent effort. Whatever it is, do it with the awareness that you’re participating in something far more significant—the eternal glorification of our Creator. May your days be filled with purpose, and may every action resound with the melody of God’s glory. Shalom to you, my friend. Pastor Andrew

July 30 is World Day Against Trafficking in Person

As I shared last Sunday, the warmth of being back in person among my church family is heartening. I am deeply grateful to all the pastoral and administrative staff for their tireless efforts in covering my absence. The willingness of our lay leader and the chairs of the various task forces to step in and address arising issues, along with the prayers, cards, and visits of many of the congregation, is a testament to the unity and support within our church community.  Those who have met me since my surgery to remove a large cancerous tumor from my appendix have all commented on my changed appearance due to weight loss. It is not a diet I recommend, but it is one of the upsides, I guess, from the surgery and subsequent stay in the hospital. Though not planned, it is a change I embrace, though it has meant buying a few new clothes to fit my reduced size! Change is an integral part of the human experience, and as Christians, we approach it with a unique lens that combines faith, theology, and practical wisdom. In the book “How People Grow,” Henry Cloud and John Townsend emphasize that spiritual growth and emotional/relational growth are interconnected. They argue that spiritual growth should impact our everyday lives and situations. Personal change occurs when someone intentionally depends on God and allows the transforming power of the Holy Spirit into their life. It’s not merely about self-improvement; it’s about surrendering to God’s work within us. Sometimes, change is planned—a deliberate decision to move, switch jobs, or pursue education. These changes often involve prayer, seeking guidance, and trusting God’s leading. Life also brings unforeseen changes—unexpected health issues, losing a loved one, or financial challenges. In these moments, Christians lean on their faith, trusting that God remains constant despite uncertainty. Whether we face planned or unforeseen changes, God remains our constant anchor. His love, promises, and plans for us do not waver. We find stability in Him, even when circumstances shift. As Christians, we recognize that we are part of a larger community. Change affects not only individuals but also families, churches, and society. Community support and prayer play a vital role in navigating change. Christian hope extends beyond temporary circumstances. It rests in the resurrection of Jesus Christ, assuring believers of eternal life. This hope sustains us through life’s ups and downs. Change isn’t a one-time event; it’s a lifelong journey. As Christians, we should embrace growth, learning, and sanctification, trusting that God is at work even in the midst of change. I have come to realize that change, whether planned or unforeseen, can be an opportunity for spiritual growth and deeper trust in God’s unchanging love. Shalom to you, my friend. Pastor Andrew

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