March (5)
February (3)
January (3)
December (5)
November (3)
October (3)
September (2)
August (2)
July (2)
June (4)
May (4)
April (4)
March (3)
February (3)
January (3)
December (3)
November (4)
October (5)
September (4)
August (1)
July (5)
June (4)
May (4)
April (7)
March (6)
February (4)
January (4)
December (4)
November (4)
October (4)
September (3)
August (2)
July (5)
June (3)
May (5)
April (4)
March (4)
February (1)
January (4)
December (4)
November (4)
October (3)
August (3)
July (3)
June (3)
May (4)
April (5)
March (6)
February (3)
January (4)
December (4)
November (5)
October (2)
September (2)
August (4)
July (4)
June (3)
May (4)
April (6)
March (6)
February (3)
January (4)
December (6)
November (4)
October (3)
September (5)
August (5)
July (4)
June (4)
May (4)
April (4)
March (7)
February (4)
January (4)
December (5)
November (5)
October (4)
September (2)
August (6)
July (6)
June (4)
May (5)
April (5)
March (1)
February (5)
January (4)

Sermon for the Twentieth Sunday after Trinity (Bible Sunday)

29th Oct 2017

Sunday 29th October 2017

Sermon for Bible Sunday (Year A)


At the Queen’s coronation more than 64 years ago, she was presented with The Holy Bible upon which to make a solemn oath to defend the Church. The following words were said by the Moderator of the Church of Scotland:


We present you with this Book,

The most valuable thing that this world affords.

Here is Wisdom;

This is the royal Law;

These are the lively Oracles of God.


The three major monotheistic religions, Islam, Judaism and Christianity are all religions of the Book, for which the Koran, The Torah and the Bible stand as sacred texts and bear supreme authority for the faithful. As we observe Bible Sunday this morning we will be acknowledging its authority, and cheering on that significant number of Christians for whom daily Bible study has become a regular part of their routine. Over 2 million copies of Bible study notes are published each year, and Archbishop Cranmer, the author of the English Prayer Book instructs the faithful to immerse themselves in their Bible and to ‘read, mark, learn and inwardly digest’ its contents. The Bible is not only to read or studied as a sacred text. The Bible stands as the physical evidence we have of the human experience of the God’s Word. If ever we are perplexed by theologians or the difficulties of understanding the intricacies of Church teaching, the Bible stands for the revelation of God’s Word, which was spoken at the beginning of Creation and is seen and known in Jesus Christ. And it is Jesus himself who reminds us in this morning’s Gospel that, ‘Heaven and earth will pass away but my words will not pass away’. (24.35) The words ‘These are the very lively oracles of God’ boomed out of the Coronation Service in 1953 and they tell us that the Bible stands a supreme authority for all Christians and its words and content are alive with possibility and transformative for our human condition in the present.


This week the worldwide church commemorates the 500th Anniversary of the nailing of Martin Luther’s Theses on the doors of Wittenburg Cathedral and so symbolically the beginning of the Reformation. We have also been remembering the form the Reformation took in this country, and at the heart of its English version lay the introduction of the Bible translated for the first time in the English language by William Tyndale. By the early 1550s Bibles were chained to great old wooden lecterns in parish churches up and down the land and the ‘lively oracles of God’ made available to the ordinary man and woman. With the advent of printing this represented an explosive new change in the way Christians related to their churches. The Word of God had become accessible, with the possibility for its indwelling in the lives of the faithful and its rich application to the stuff of lives amid overwhelming difficulty and challenge.


In our own time, the evidence for the misapplication of Biblical and other religious texts is all too obvious. Many choose to treat the Bible as an instrument of judgement or exclusion, and cite texts to justify their own prejudices, particularly against those who do not fit into their own Christian scheme of things. Gay men and women have fallen particularly foul of this kind of interpretation. The Bible becomes the proof text for a particular kind of moral code and this fits in neatly with the urge to define the Christian elect and to exclude those whose don’t fit into its neat parameters. The so-called ‘Bible belt’ in the southern United States’ has become a byword for this kind of senseless bigotry and in this context, the Bible has supplanted God and the words of the Bible used as a kind of moralising attack dog.


‘Here is wisdom, this is the royal law, these are the very lively oracles of God’. These words invite us to come to scripture with our hearts and minds open to the possibility of its meaning and to allow it to speak for itself and to us. That will means that Cranmer’s injunction to ‘inwardly digest’ its contents (not literally of course!) will have us contemplate that meaning in isolation neither from its historical context nor as it may apply to our diverse and problematic world today. In this church we really do do a lot of Bible – each day there are Masses and prayers and the words of scripture are paramount. They continue that life-long conversation we have with Him and remind us of where we are coming from and where God is coming from. Here is a check list of those elements which the Bible delivers, a kind of life cycle:


The Bible tells us who God is.

The Bible helps us to trace our origins, from the beginning of Creation, and to speak of them.

The Bible helps us to understand what it is to be human, and how prone we are to getting it wrong.

The Bible teaches us that even though this is true, that God is understanding merciful and forgiving.

The Bible traces a certain history, of God’s chosen people, the Jews, and their story over centuries.

The Bible helps us to understand how this story, the story of our own Christian salvation, contains many twists and turns, many high and low points, but the importance of a living faith in God and of God’s faithfulness is a constant theme.

The Bible introduces us to the Psalmist and the Prophet, to the Patriarch, the almighty King, and to the people in safety and in exile; the people faithful and faithless.

The Bible leads us through the Old Testament and onto the New through the expectation of the coming of the Jewish Messiah.

The New Testament of the Bible is come through Jesus, who is not to be the Messiah that the Jews entirely expect.

The Gospels reveal Jesus to be the Son of God. That is, God in human form. He is to show us who God is while standing for the fulfilment of all that had gone before.

In showing us who God is, Jesus is to defy all expectations of ‘success’ in the matter, instead dying on a Cross, rising from the dead and instituting the transformation of faith in God in the life of self-giving love.

The Bible evidences that same God who is always with us even to the end of time.


I can’t quite present these elements as a ‘plotline’ but you can see that a distinct pattern is formed which is an ever increasing movement toward and in favour of the salvation of all souls and the transformation of lives held in captivity by their self-determination. And, following the resurrection and the outpouring of God’s Holy Spirit, energy of this salvation history moves ever outward and nourishes the life of God’s Church for all time. As I explain these things to you, a little voice beside me says to me ‘Is all this lively enough for you?’ I reply, ‘Yes, certainly’. The contents of Holy Scripture provide the dimensions, the scale and the living scope for my own salvation history.


May we read, mark, learn and inwardly digest the lively oracles of God, 'for here lies true wisdom and this is the royal law'. May God’s Word be for us that much needed illumination, instruction and refreshment. May it be for the feeding and source of life for which are souls are in such profound need.


Sermon for the Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity

22nd Oct 2017

Sermon for the Nineteenth Sunday after Trinity Year A

 “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesars, and to God the things that are God's’”.


This morning’s message rests on the toss of a coin and concerns Jesus’ identity. The whole focus now turns to Jesus Himself and who He is, and importantly where his political and religious allegiances lie. Jesus is answering a trick question put to him by the Pharisees, the religious elite. They question him about his allegiance to God and Caesar, to the the call of God over blind allegiance to the powers that be.


The Jews had to pay their taxes to the Roman authority with a special coin with the hated head of Caesar on it. Hated by the ordinary citizen because his empire necessitated a permanent state of high taxation, even among the poor. Hated because the Emperor had set himself up not only as Head of State but also as Divine.  Hated because his was the occupying ‘foreign’ power. The Jews were allowed their customs and religion but under strict orders not to cause trouble. The allegiance the Empire called for was a total one – mind, body and even soul. This of course, reminded the Jews that theirs was a Roman occupied territory with a puppet King, Herod. To speak against the Emperor was a capital crime punished by death. In our passage, the Pharisees consider Jesus as something of a contradiction, suspect both as an orthodox Jew and as a political subversive. They set a trap for Him, thinking he must either declare himself as an anti-imperialist and so be arrested by the Romans, or declare himself subservient to Rome and so offend his fellow religious Jews.


The key to this passage lies not just with Jesus’ political or social allegiance, but points to the unique authority which God discloses in the lives of the people. This is best understood in what St Paul terms ‘conviction’, or for us, ‘Christian conviction’. Such conviction emerges out of lives which, among the competing claims of conscience, consider the authority of God in Jesus Christ as primary, and as possessing a primary voice for the greater advancement of the world we inhabit.


In answering the question about God and Caesar indirectly (giving both their right due) Jesus makes plain that the Word of God does not possess special privileges but will be heard among all the other voices, and especially among what Paul was to call ‘the principalities and powers and rulers of this present darkness’. God’s is a unique and particular kind of authority, one which is both John the Baptist’s ‘voice crying in the wilderness’, and also the Word which is possessed of Godly dignity and Godly integrity:


The word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Hebrews 4.12


The effect of God’s Word may be as “…a stone being rolled from the mind” and its power for good will be manifest (RS Thomas).


An example in our recent history of this great good lies in the thinking behind the establishment of our Welfare State and The National Health Service on 5th July 1948.  The Archbishop of York, Dr Sentamu, offers these words from Archbishop WilliamTemple on the passing of the acts for the establishment of the welfare state in 1948:


“This is a once in a lifetime expression of a Christian ethic embodied in an act of parliament”


Temple  and the author of the Report on the Welfare State, William Beveridge spoke of the sound establishment and the solid expression of ‘social insurance’ in the life of the nation and the relief from sickness and penury. The coming of the NHS, in the light of the devastation of war, was a significant, timely and miraculous thing. It lives with us, in its present form, still sanding brightly as an expression of  the willingness to meet the ordinary citizen at their point of greatest vulnerability and need.. ‘A Christian ethic embodied in an act of parliament’. And all this because in the thick of war there existed among influential minds a truly Godly vision for a dynamic and socially just peace.


When such things happen they stand alone, as great political landmarks. Another act of genius, this time initiated by the Americans, took place only a month earlier as The Foreign Assistance Act was passed by the US House of Representatives on 3rd June 1948. The Marshall Plan pulled the rug under Stalin’s grab for Empire in Europe by equipping the western European countries for recovery and stability. It came to be known as “The most unselfish and unsordid financial transaction in history” and allowed peace with freedom to break out after years of violent bloodshed and devastation.


In our own time, things are somewhat different.  We now have to consider, especially in King’s Cross, what is the Christian response to the great gaps left in state provision for the poor and needy. Our upcoming Vision Day will not only involve us in  envisioning our future life here at Holy Cross and how we can continue the tradition of this church’s active commitment to working alongside the poor, not as neat piece of social work, but as a work of solidarity and trust with those who come to a Church building and find  personal  and human responses in lives which have been devastated and marred and made fearful or lost. The Drop In has not had its day, and there will still be a need to giveone to one care for those in dire need and so render to God the things which are God’s. The State run social welfare system must, more than ever, be augmented by the voluntary sector and groups of people such as churches, actively committed to compassionate and involved social care. We will not let go of this need to continue the Holy Cross tradition of strong Catholicism driving a purposeful social Gospel.


Jesus had to answer the trick question of the Pharisees, and his response to serve both God and Caesar is the call to serve God in his world just as it is.


“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesars, and to God the things that are Gods’”.


‘Rendering’ requires that the ‘things of God’ are not left unheeded, but, by our actions and decisions and active compassion, and in a world of dizzying and demanding challenges, they are continually being made evident.

Sermon for the Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity

15th Oct 2017

Sermon for the Eighteenth Sunday after Trinity Year A


Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God which passes all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4.5,6


It is a commonplace for us to hear of ‘St Pauls’ Letter to the Philippians’ or to the Colossians or the Corinthians. The second Reading of the Parish Eucharist is often called the ‘Epistle’ or ‘Letter’. We have to imagine St Paul communicating to the far flung early Christian community as he dictates long letters via a secretary, companion or scribe like Timothy.  His letters contain formal teaching, warning, moral instruction. They contain exhortation and greeting. We read Paul’s letters, even after two thousand years and their words leap out of the pages with passion and love. He begins his letter with a greeting : ‘My brothers and sisters, whom I love and long for’. It is so interesting that the kind and intimate letter greeting ‘Dear so and so’ has now been replaced with the impersonal and screechy ‘Hi!’ Paul is ready always to convey the sense the there is such a thing as the Christian character, whose stamp and mark is mutual love, both of God and neighbour, and perseverance and bravery in the commitment to the life of Christian faith.


With the advent of the PC and the laptop, of Emails and of countless other instant message types, all characterised by their brevity, it has become a rare joy to receive a hand written letter. I remember our Post Office when I was a boy. It was a large modern and airy building, but along one bank of its long walls lay a whole row of ink pots set into the wipe-able Formica surfaces upon which were large framed mats of neat blotting paper. People would patiently dip pen to ink many times before a few lines had been written, but here was a kind of patient ceremony which is now lost to us.


I have here my grandmother’ Parker Pen. The fountain pen is at least 60 years old and it was used to write countless neat letters written in real ink on thick laid paper. The letter of course had to be stamped, enveloped and then hand posted. The giving and receiving of letters becomes an important part of the plot in old films and novels, and somehow an Email doesn’t quite measure up in terms of the quality and the beauty of these former communications. It is so pleasing to see a hand written letter as it raises its head above the junk mail.


St Paul’s letters are known for their beautiful greetings, which in this morning’s letter take up 29 lines of prose. From his letters we get a very real sense of St Paul as communicator and we realise that only twenty or so years after the death and resurrection of Christ, Paul’s Church is one in which mutual love abounds, in which there is a sense of real joy and confidence in believing, but equally the struggle and the determination to prevail. There is, too an abiding sense of the reality of God in Jesus Christ, and that he is ‘very near’. Then there is Paul’s fearless and powerful self-confidence and strength of leadership as he urges his followers to cast all worries aside and instead to offer prayers and supplications to God. This is echoed in the words of Teresa of Avila, whose saint’s day we commemorate today:


Let nothing disturb you,

Let nothing frighten you,

All things are passing away:

God never changes.

Patience obtains all things

Whoever has God lacks nothing;

God alone suffices.


The same intimate connection with St Paul’s followers is to be the intimate connection they are to maintain with their God. This is to be their strength. Above all they are to persevere and to prevail in and with what he calls ‘the peace of God which passes all understanding’, that strong inner peace which is the evidence of their personal connectedness with God rather than with the ‘passing’ things of this world.


Of course it only human to find yourself preoccupied or worried about things. We are sometimes confronted with what seem like strong tests to our usual feeling that everything is more or less OK. Shakespeare termed the famous phrase ‘the thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to’, which is the legacy of pain and worry, whether by reason of ill health, loss, the disappointment of our hopes or the painful challenge to our complacencies, or past sorrows. To all this we may express due sympathy but for Paul’s corresponding call to ‘the higher Way’ where God is peace which ‘passes  human understanding’. It’s all very tough, and not easy or consoling at all. But our correspondent Paul has been through it; is going through it in his cell in Philippi. His letter is known as a letter of exhortation, urging us all on to find our security in that which has already been established in us, the love of God, meted out through his humanity and the gathered church. In his gentle and beautiful cadences, every bit as mellifluous as Shakespeare’s, Paul’s final words of our letter section from Philippians reach their moving crescendo:


Finally, my beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is  pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and is there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. Keep on doing the things that you have learned and received and heard and seen in me, and the God of Peace be with you.


So much better than the very English ‘Yours sincerely!’


A similar prayer was gifted to me by an old Australian priest friend, long since dead and former Director of the Anglican Centre in Rome. It is simply a prayer to the loveliness and awesomeness of God. God is, in this prayer, as God is in the Letters of Paul, our truest and most loving correspondent.

























Sermon for the Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity

8th Oct 2017

Sermon for the Seventeenth Sunday after Trinity Year A


“The Lord is my Shepherd, therefore can I lack nothing”  Psalm 23.1


“Christ has made me his own” Philippians 3.12.



If you search the Bible for a passage which stands sure and strong as a complete evocation of faith and trust then it must surely be Psalm 23, which is set to words and music as the hymn, ‘The Lord’s my Shepherd’. It describes the individual’s relationship with God as one evidenced by fullness, rest, refreshment, guidance, fearlessness, consolation, comfort, generosity, thankfulness and hope. It is a psalm favoured for use at funerals as a summary of the gifts of faith, and it is a psalm full of hope. The Christian believer does not believe in a vacuum, but in the light of our experience of the living God, whose presence and whose love is sustaining and gives hope. It is both ‘refreshment for the soul’ and the experience of ‘goodness and mercy’ from its very source, God Himself.


There is much evidence brought by those who do not believe in God that all this is a kind of flight of fancy, or wishful thinking. Those who hold to faith are in the words of Professor Richard Dawkins, ‘deluded’. Christian Faith for many is not able to withstand the test that time imposes upon it, especially in the present day. The old Christian certainties have given way, in the face of a world grown more diverse, more communicative and more complex than ever, to an encroaching fatalism. If the Christian is to ‘walk through the valley of the shadow of death and fear no evil’ then she or he  is to be a Christian who does not find themself in antagonised reaction to the new forces which shape our contemporary world. The Christian witness urges us on to refreshed and revitalised understandings of what is to be human, what it is to be British, what it is to be a Londoner, what it is to be a Christian today, what it is to be me, a citizen of the world. And we will need, to heed the words of Psalm 23, which calls for an impassioned all-embracing faith.


Some time ago a seventeen year old schoolgirl was called out of her chemistry class in Birmingham to be told that she had won the Nobel Peace Prize. The youngest Nobel Laureate ever. A few weeks ago she was offered a place at Oxford University, to read politics, philosophy and economics at Lady Margaret Hall. Imagine on her CV ‘Winner of the Nobel Peace Prize’ Malala Yousafzai, described in the press as a ‘child education activist’ has now been educated in Britain, having survived being shot in the head in her Pakistani home town by the Taliban whilst travelling on the school bus following a school exam. Now she is fully recovered, though with marked signs of her wounds, she has spoken out against the way girls in Pakistan are denied educational advantages, and of how in comparatively advanced societies like her own, children are commonly reduced to slave status from an early age by their families and supported by the political system. This young girl has been a great presence and a great voice on the world scene, because her experiences and outspokenness have speak to us all of as a voice of God. It has broken through the clarion voices and vested interests which would treat their fellow human beings, in this case children, as mere commodities, just like the wicked tenants in today’s Gospel reading.  


As Christians, we must hear what the Spirit is saying to the Churches, a spirit which does not confine itself to the Church alone, but which may express itself as the resounding voice of God in a troubled world, which may even be heard in the life of a seventeen year old school girl.  If the promise of Psalm 23 is not to be one founded in religious romanticism then it must be a call to a Christianity which contains the three ‘C’s which we are aiming for in the Diocese of London ‘Caring, Compassionate and Confident’.  It must be a Christianity which does not speak from a narrow and culturally confined space. Much of the New Testament emerges out of the clash of cultures and political ideologies and religions and Christianity must realise that this is still very much the case.


I was privileged last week to overhear a Christian priest welcoming a Hindu convert to Christianity. How could it be possible to understand all the world’s religions in relation to Christianity? The priest described a large tree with many branches, which are the religions of the world. He went on to say that for Christians, Christ is the root and sap of that tree, the necessary human/divine love out of which the whole structure grows and develops. It is above all else humanitarian and peace making. The existence if ISIS and other extremist/terrorist groups are a reminder its opposite, of negative, life denying, person denying, murderous intent.This is again echoed in today’s Gospel parable. God is not mocked.


The seventeen year old schoolgirl, Malala, shot in the head, called out of her Birmingham Chemistry lesson, and taking her place at Oxford while decrying man’s inhumanity to man is the reminder which we are given in today’s Gospel of the invitation to the heavenly banquet, where murderous intent and selfish disobedience has given way to a willingness firstly to recognise God and secondly, to live in God and to co-operate with God's purposes and then to speak for God. In this way we advance a reconciliation of all humankind with the one God, who in Jesus Christ is the Lord, our shepherd, in whom, in the words of Psalm 23, “we lack nothing”. Or as Paul puts it in today’s letter to the Philippians, we “…press on towards the goal for the prize of the heavenly call of God in Christ Jesus” which for Paul is an experience of Christ’s Resurrection. He goes on to say “I press on to make this my own, because Christ has made me his own”.


“Therefore…” replies the Psalmist, “…can I lack nothing”.


Sermon for the Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity

1st Oct 2017

A Sermon for The Sixteenth Sunday after Trinity Year A


Be united in your convictions and united in your love, with a common purpose and a common mind. Philippians 2.3



Some time ago I attended two separate but complimentary events. The first was a Roman Catholic Mass in celebration of The Sisters of Mercy and for the anniversaries of the life vows of two of our sisters who work in the parish locally as ‘women at the well’. The second was a book launch. An old priest friend of mind has just published a book reflecting on a Christian mystical work named ‘The Cloud of Unknowing’ whose anonymous writer does not  mince words:


For I tell you this: one loving, blind desire for God alone is more valuable in itself, more pleasing to God and to the saints, more beneficial to your own growth, and more helpful to your friends, both living and dead, than anything else you could do.


Both parties expressed the need to balance an active with a contemplative life. This is to live the balanced inner life which can adapt to what the old prayer book called the ‘changes and chances of this fleeting world’. And in the medieval period there was a sudden upsurge in a movement toward this contemplative way, in which ordinary, active life includes, as part of ‘one loving blind desire for God’ the prayer of the heart. Figures such as Mother Julian of Norwich, Walter Hilton and Marjory Kempe were writing down their experiences of contemplative prayer in the emerging English language made popular by Chaucer in his Canterbury Tales. Their passion for God was earthed the in their everyday lives, that is in their ordinariness. Their piety was not otherworldly and affected. These were earthy figures and not plaster saints. Margery Kempe was plagued by sexual temptation and ran a brewery! The author of ‘The Cloud of Unknowing’ is clearly a ‘tough cookie’, Julian of Norwich has survived a life-threatening illness and the Last Rites of the Dead and had plenty of life wisdom.  It is to these people, honest in their view of themselves and yet rugged seekers after God, who startle us with their spiritual witness. Here is Margery Kempe:


She greeted the Vicar, asking him if she could—in the afternoon, when he had eaten—speak with him for an hour or two of the love of God. He, lifting up his hands and blessing himself, said, “Bless us! How could a woman occupy one or two hours with the love of our Lord? I shan’t eat a thing till I find out what you can say of our Lord God in the space of an hour.”


Through live experience, these very English mystics have passed on pieces of Christian wisdom hammered out of hard and struggling lives. Jesus refers to such individuals in this morning’s Gospel when he tells us that many surprising individuals are entering the Kingdom of God before the wise, the pious and the all-knowing. Our Christianity is always predicated on ordinary life, but we must wake up to the fact and the presence of God or deny Him.


This morning’s parable of the two brothers is the simplest and shortest of all parables. Jesus uses it to harangue the crowd of whom some have been apathetic followers, blind and stubborn in their unbelieving towards John the Baptist. He tells them, shockingly,  that tax-collectors and prostitutes will enter the Kingdom of Heaven before they do. Not only does Jesus say that the roots of their supposed faith have no depth. He declaims them in favour of rank sinners and outsiders. The meaning of the Incarnation, of Jesus coming in the flesh, is to make physical and plain the true purposes of his being as God in human form, and his is a wake-up call. The Christian calling is for us to become most truly alive. And to be truly alive is to be alive in the true likeness of God in what we are and what we are made to become. For we are God’s creatures, made in his own likeness; made to find our life’s true reconciliation in Him. We must not neglect such a gift!


In Carl Jung's psychology, what he calls metanoia indicates a spontaneous attempt of the psyche to heal itself of unbearable conflict by melting down and then being reborn in a more adaptive form. This is the very issue that Jesus addresses in this small parable. Of the Christian calling to adapt to the ways of God’s love, to be open to the possibility of adaptation and change. The two brothers both reveal different parts of our nature – the one active and responsive and the other sluggish, and careless. Jesus awakens us to the possibility of contemplative communion with God for the transformation of our minds and hearts.


Today, there is more need than ever for us to live life which contains a contemplative element, so that life does not blow us apart. It is necessary for us to find our own still centre. ‘ In every human heart there is a God-shaped space’ said Cardinal Hume. There are many groups set up in London to help you to embrace that process. And I am most willing to put anyone interested into the way of these life-saving, contemplative, prayerful groups, which engage more closely with the Word of God and strive to be more responsive to what God may be saying in their lives.


In this respect we either grow, we respond to God’s grace going before us in the ordinary and the everyday,  or not bother at all, in which case, as for the refusal of love,  a vital part of us actually dies…


  Records 1 to 5 of 5