Month: March 2022

Lifted the spirits to go in the train to Manchester with J. Here it is from afar (not from the train!)…

…Mottram church and distant stratocumulus

In next Sunday’s Lectionary, Jesus speaks about the road to Jerusalem. Jerusalem is the holy and tragic city where prophets are killed, as Jesus was to be. Jerusalem remains a tragic city, contested by different faiths, because of its significance in those faiths.

Jerusalem is not the only tragic city – there are many right now, in Ukraine and beyond.

God of truth and mercy,
even when all hope is gone,
we pray to you;
give peace,
give justice,
give hope once again.

In the Old Testament reading from next Sunday’s Lectionary, a ‘deep and terrifying darkness’ descends on Abram. The terrifying darkness may not be such a common experience in the twenty first century, but maybe some can remember being in an unfamiliar part of town late, or being in deep countryside with no lights brightening the sky   … or on the sea maybe.

The people on this island are culturally diverse. To state the obvious, what defines ‘Britishness’ is not a culture, but the simple fact of being here, being on the earth in this place.

Excellent day  out today seeing the Sistine Chapel in the Trafford Centre with friends. The Centre itself was quite something as well – I’d forgotten just how OTT these places are.

I thank God for the freedom and peace to do this stuff. Not that freedom is an absolute good – it has to be limited by our obligation to be caring of others.

Walked further this morning than I’ve done for nearly two weeks – the knee is improving. There’s still some evidence of the run of storms a couple of weekends ago. But it’s better underfoot than it’s been for a while.

I didn’t come across any deer, but did hear a curlew.

War is sad and terrifying and if a powerful enough person deems it necessary, it seems to become necessary. God forgive us all.

Easing back into walking again after knee damage. Feeling more like it now, with a handy knee support.

We repent in dust and ashes,
in rubble and tears,
in a world of pain,
all the harm that happened
on our generation’s watch.
God, have mercy on us all:
bring us the beginning
of a flicker
of hope.

Happy daffodils and pancakes to everyone.

We are about to enter Lent. Will you give something up? Or will you simply remember – remember Jesus, remember what a terrifying and painful place we have made the world into, ask for a new chance?

Back home now after modest travels, and wishing I’d taken a camera for this…