Breathing new life into us

Reflection written for Second Sunday Easter 19th April 2020

The suggested Gospel reading for this Sunday (the second Sunday after Easter) is John 20: 19 – 29. It is John’s account of the disciples meeting with Jesus on Easter evening. Remember, up to now not all of them had encountered the risen Jesus.

The fearful disciples were gathered together behind locked doors when “Jesus came and stood among them”.

It is tempting when reading the whole passage to focus on the second part, the story of Jesus and Thomas. (I wonder how many sermons would be preached on doubt and doubting Thomas today if our churches were open?)

However, reading through the passage I was drawn to the first part (verses 19 – 23).

First off, I was struck by the following verses

21 Again Jesus said, ‘Peace be with you! As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ 22 And with that he breathed on them and said, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit. John 20: 21 – 22 NIV

Jesus breathing on the disciples. No Covid 19, 2 metre distancing then! But more seriously it was Jesus giving the Holy Spirit to the disciples.

We think of the Holy Spirit being given to the disciples on the Day of Pentecost, 50 days after Easter. That is how it is recorded in the Acts of the Apostles (written by Luke.) And no doubt I’ll be writing about that in 7 weeks times.

It’s often said that the giving of the Holy Spirit to the disciples at Pentecost was the start of the Church. Pentecost is often referred to as the Birthday of the Church. (And of course, when I say “Church” I mean it in the sense of the body of Christ, Christ’s followers.)

In many respects we tend to think of Easter and Pentecost as two separate things. And that owes much to the way Luke has written his Gospel and the Acts of the Apostles.

However, John’s understanding is different. For John, the gift of the Holy Spirit and the Resurrection are interlinked. And both signpost the disciples to their purpose following the Resurrection – to fulfil the mission Jesus has given them. Jesus says

As the Father has sent me, I am sending you. John 20:21

In John’s view there are two sides of the same coin. When the Church celebrates Easter, it also celebrates the beginnings of its mission. When the Church celebrates the beginning of its mission and being given power through the Holy Spirit, it also celebrates Easter. For John, the church’s ongoing life as a community of faith, as the people who continue Jesus’ work in the world, all come from Jesus’ resurrection, Jesus’ Easter promises and gifts.

Perhaps the most difficult part of the Easter / Pentecost story is fathoming out precisely what Jesus commissions the faith community, the Church, to do. As I’ve said, in the passage we are thinking about, Jesus says “’As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’”

But sending us to do what? The passage goes on to talk about the forgiveness of sins. That then is clearly part of what the Church is to do. Something that would have been very challenging for the first disciples. (Don’t forget, it was the fact that Jesus said he forgave sins, that in part caused the Jewish authorities to have him arrested and executed.)

However, a few days earlier, during the Last Supper (as recounted by John) Jesus told the disciples something else:

34 ‘A new command I give you: love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. 35 By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.’ John 13: 34 – 35 NIV

By loving one another as Jesus loves, we as Jesus disciples, reveal God to the world. And by revealing God to the world, the Church makes it possible for the world to enter into relationship with God. Through that relationship with God sins may be forgiven and salvation attained. Our mission then is not to be the judges of right or wrong, but to bear unceasing witness to love of God in Jesus.

You may feel that it is difficult to fulfil that mission, as we are “behind locked doors”, like the earliest disciples. Yet it is possible. Over these last few weeks, I’ve been on the receiving end of that love. The emails of thanks, the phone calls of thanks, the cards and letters of thanks, for what I am doing are all evidence of you fulfilling God’s mission. And I know you will be doing that to one another (so important at present) and to the wider world too.

Gail O’Day in the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary says of the passage we’ve been thinking of

“To celebrate the resurrection is also to celebrate the beginnings of the church’s mission in the world. Jesus lives, not because he can walk through locked doors and show his wounds to frightened disciples, but because he breathes new life into those disciples through the gift of the Spirit and commissions them to continue his work.” New Interpreters Bible Commentary John © Abingdon Press 1995

It was Sunday

It was Sunday the woman realised. With the authorities saying people had to remain indoors – for their own safety you understand – all the days seemed to blur in to one. With many people – if they were fortunate – being able to work from home, the woman, like many she knew, often had to think whether it was a weekday or a weekend.

It was Sunday though that’s for sure. The woman liked Sundays. She’d always be first up on a Sunday to have some time to herself for her mindfulness. And this Sunday was no different. So, she left her husband snoring in bed got dressed and went downstairs.

It looked like a beautiful day and she decided she’d take her daily one-hour exercise now. Not that many people would be outside, and if they were, they’d be on their own, keeping the regulation 2 metres apart from anyone else.

The woman set off from her home. She was careful to keep moving – the authorities didn’t like it if you stopped during your allowed hour, and woe betide you if you sat down. Yesterday she’d seen an old man being told off by the authorities for taking a breather on a park bench. He could have been fined.

The streets were empty. The authorities liked to see the streets empty. They liked to see the public spaces empty. The authorities would have preferred it if everyone stayed indoors all the time – for their own safety you understand. But that wasn’t practical. People needed to shop, to exercise, to go to see their doctor.

Although the woman enjoyed some quiet time on her own, she also missed the usual buzz of the town and seeing people she knew.

Through social media, the woman had heard that on Friday “a man had been detained for questioning” by the authorities. She had met the Man on a few occasions. He was a teacher. He was a good man, a quiet man, a man of peace. She couldn’t understand why he’d been detained.

But the worst part was his closest friends were saying he’d not returned on Friday evening. The woman knew what that meant.

She found herself walking towards a suburb of the town you were wise to avoid. A part of town where there was a patch of waste ground where apparently the authorities took people for questioning. A patch of waste ground from which people never returned.

The woman found herself passing the waste ground. A member of the authorities was stood on guard. “Keep moving along please madam” the soldier said.

But the woman stopped and found herself speaking to the soldier – though she kept the regulation 2 metres away. “Someone I knew was brought here on Friday” she said boldly. “What would have happened to him? Where would they have taken him after, you know”

The soldier looked around nervously. “You didn’t hear it from me. But most likely he would have been taken away to be disposed of, know what I mean? No one returns from here. Now move on sister.”

The woman left and she found herself crying. Why kill the Man? And if they could do it to him who next? It made no sense. But there on the waste ground, early on a Friday morning, the authorities had set about their work. Their work of finding out answers. Their work of teaching a man, the Man, a lesson. Their work of punishment.

And there on the waste ground, the waste ground in the suburb you avoided, the Man who had helped the authorities with their enquiries, had died. And then been disposed of.

The woman turned toward her home, conscious that she’d had 40 minutes exercise and in theory anyway, she should be home in 20 minutes. “Stuff that” the woman said. And she carried on walking.

A man who seemed vaguely familiar was just ahead of her on the other side of the road. Over 2 metres away. “It’s a beautiful morning isn’t it?” he said “Is it?” she replied bitterly. And then for some reason she started pouring out the story of the teacher who had been arrested, the Man had ‘been disposed of’

The man listened and nodded and asked one or two question. Why was she talking like this? To a stranger. And yet she seemed to think she knew him. But she couldn’t place him. He reminded her of someone.

They came to one of the unofficial coffee stalls that sometimes sprung up. “Fancy a coffee and a croissant?” the man said. Why not? The man bought her a drink and a croissant, placed it in a bag and left it in the middle of the road for her to collect. She rubbed her hands with sanitiser and picked the bag up.

The man smiled and raised his coffee cup and broke the croissant. “Bless you sister” he said and started to walked off.

“Wait!” the woman said “I know who you are, you’re the Man! The teacher! But how can it be so? You were dead and the soldier told me you were disposed of!”

But the Man had disappeared from her sight.

The woman ran home eager to tell others what she'd seen, what she'd experienced. To tell others "It's true! The Man isn't dead. He is alive! I recognised him as we shared coffee together"

It was a Friday

It was a Friday. The authorities said that people had to remain indoors – for their own safety you understand – unless they needed food or medicines. Or the permitted amount of exercise. Most people obeyed the authorities, but some didn’t.

On that Friday some had ventured out early. They knew that was the best chance of finding food and avoiding contact with other people. The authorities forbade contact with other people unless it was essential. Though no one really understood what that meant.

The authorities permitted people to take exercise. And early that Friday some people took the opportunity to exercise. But an hour at most. And you had to exercise on your own or with a family member. But you had to keep moving. You couldn’t stop and sit on a park bench and soak up the spring sunshine. That wasn’t permitted by the authorities. Walk, run, cycle, but don’t stop. Keep moving. Don’t linger. Keep going. Keep moving.

The authorities liked to see the streets empty. They liked to see the public spaces empty. The authorities would have preferred it if everyone stayed indoors all the time – for their own safety you understand. But that wasn’t practical. Hence the grudging allowance of shopping and exercise or urgent medical appointments.

As it was, early on that Friday morning, very few people were on the streets when the authorities took a man through the streets of the city to a piece of waste ground in a suburb you were wise to avoid. That’s what the authorities did nowadays. “Don’t take them to a police station. It’s safer outside. Away from prying eyes”

Had anyone been around to see the man being taken away by the authorities, they’d have been surprised that he didn’t resist. He went peacefully. He didn’t shout. He didn’t spit in the soldiers’ faces. He didn’t curse. He went peacefully. “Led like a lamb to the slaughter” as the old saying had it.

The man being led by the authorities must have known what fate awaited him on the waste ground. Everyone knew that if the authorities took you to the waste ground you didn’t come back alive, if you came back at all. The authorities had ways of making trouble and troublemakers disappear.

There on the waste ground, early on a Friday morning, the authorities set about their work. Their work of finding out answers. Their work of teaching a lesson. Their work of punishment.

And there on the waste ground, the waste ground in the suburb you avoid, the man who had helped the authorities with their enquiries, died.

The authorities arranged for his body to be buried, without honours, in an unmarked grave.

I learned something today

A couple of weeks back we had a conversation with some of our American friends via Zoom. When I say Zoom I'm not talking about the 80s Hit by Fat Larry's Band. (Nice topical reference there.) I'm talking about a video messaging / conferencing service.

(Shareholders in Zoom must be happy people at present as more and more people seem to be using Zoom to communicate. Zoom is the in thing for communication. In fact, already I’m hearing the phrase “Let’s Zoom” meaning “let’s have a conversation using Zoom.”. When a brand name becomes a verb to describe an activity you know you’ve made it. Like, to hoover – meaning to use a vacuum cleaner or to Google - meaning to search the internet.)

Anyway, as I was saying, we were talking to our friends using Zoom. And our friend Lucy said to us “So what have you guys learned lately?” It was (as the Americans would say) a very left field question; an unexpected question. But a good question.

I don’t remember what I said, though my wife mentioned something she’d started doing and found helpful – keeping a journal.

However, if I spoke to Lucy today, I’d be able to tell her that I’ve learned this morning how to Mail Merge and print off address labels. This is a big step forward for me. Let me tell you why.

Up to now during the Covid 19 shut down, each week I’ve been sending to Church members an Order of Service for Sunday and a Reflection (a mini sermon if you like) based on one of the Bible passages. Where possible this has gone via email. But I’ve realised that a large proportion of my congregations don’t have access to email. Or at least even if they can access the internet it might be from a phone or tablet and they can’t print.

Therefore, each week I’ve been sending out around 50 letters containing the Order of Service and Reflection. Initially I was printing these at home on an ordinary inkjet printer. A slow process and one that used a lot of ink. Now one of my colleagues has said if I email the documents to him, he will go into his church (which has a photocopier) copy the documents and let me have them back for posting.

That’s a big help. But then there’s all the envelopes. Until today I’d handwritten them all. Not a problem other than having rubbish handwriting and it takes time. But now here’s where my learning comes in.

I’ve learned the technique of Mail Merge.

And how did I learn what to do? I looked up a tutorial on You Tube. The person who had made the tutorial did a great job as I got the Mail Merge to work straight away. (I must admit to having a tiny bit of knowledge from years ago, but it was very rusty.)

This may not seem the most interesting topic for blog I admit. But it got me thinking about how I managed to do what I’ve done.
I remember being sent on a course by work (I think over two days) to learn how to use Microsoft Word. This would have been around 1992. There were about about 10 of us in the class all seated in front of a great big monitor and we followed along as the tutor took us through Word. I have used Word pretty confidently ever since – though obviously until today not Mail Merge.

And a few years later I went on another course with work to learn about Excel. I don’t use Excel very much. But when I do need to use it for something I’m not sure of, I reach for a YouTube tutorial.

YouTube is a wonderful resource to find out how to do something. Especially if, like me, you like to see how to do something, not just read about it. (Another friend of mine tells me she’s looked up a tutorial on how to cut her husband’s hair!)

So, Lucy. What have I learned today? I learned Mail Merge. But I’ve also learned a valuable lesson.

I’ve learned that modern technology is amazing. The fact that we could Zoom recently was terrific. The fact that the four of us could sit and talk for an hour and see one another was wonderful. Similarly, we talked to our friends in Germany on the weekend (though via Skype.) We’ve talked to friends in Swindon and had a Saturday evening drink together via Houseparty.

But I’ve also learned that for some people, older people in particular, who don’t have access to Zoom, YouTube and so on, a phone call means so much. I’ve used the phone more in the last two weeks than I would normally. And I know a call from a friendly voice means the world of difference to someone on their own.

Also, a card or a letter means so much too. I sent out a Palm Cross and an Easter Card to everyone in my 4 churches. In fact I’ve just had a call from one person who was so pleased to receive these. I’ve had several similar calls over the last couple of days.

There’s already talk of what the world will be like after the Covid 19 shut down ends (whenever that may be.) I hope that when this is over all of us can think back about what we’ve learned. Not just how to do Mail Merge but learn that we’ve appreciated conversation with friends. To learn that it’s been good to say “hello” to someone 2m away and see them smile. To learn that we need to appreciate health workers and stand up for them. To learn that we need to appreciate “the key workers”, shop workers, delivery drivers, postmen and women, refuse collectors, police officers etc etc etc, all those people who keep society ticking over.

I’ve learned loads today. What about you?

Palm Sunday 2020 - without the crowds

It’s Palm Sunday.

Reading the suggested Bible passage for this Sunday – Matthew 21: 1 – 11 – I was struck by two words - “the crowds”. Those two words, or variations on them, crop up several times in the passage.

In verse 8 Matthew tells us that “A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road” as Jesus and his followers walked towards Jerusalem.

Then in verse 9 Matthew says

“9 The crowds that went ahead of him and those that followed shouted,
‘Hosanna[b] to the Son of David!’
‘Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!’[c]
‘Hosanna[d] in the highest heaven!’

Matthew goes on to say, “the whole city was stirred” or as the New Revised Standard Version puts it “The whole city was in turmoil”. In other words, Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem didn’t just excite his followers. Everyone in the city became aware of this arrival. And those who weren’t followers of Jesus or didn’t know anything about him said “Who is this?”

And

11 The crowds answered, ‘This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth in Galilee.’

Of course, Matthew doesn’t give us any idea of how big the crowd was. Dozens? Hundreds? Thousands? We don’t know. But clearly it was more than just the 12 disciples.

Palm Sunday marks the start of Holy Week. And I’m struck that if we read the passages of scripture in all the Gospels, that give us details of the time period between Jesus entering Jerusalem on Palm Sunday, and his crucifixion and death on Good Friday, we see several references to crowds. And we also see plenty of references to Jesus spending time with his followers – not just the 12 disciples but other people too.

Reading these passages has made me realise that this Palm Sunday, Holy Week and Easter will be like no other I’ve experienced. And I’m sure is the same for you too.

Usually we’ll have gathered for worship on Palm Sunday. Heard the Bible passage on Jesus’ arrival in Jerusalem and perhaps left service carrying a cross made from a palm leaf. And we’ll have left the service with thoughts on Holy Week. (As a preacher I don’t leave a congregation cheering with the crowds on Palm Sunday. I point us firmly into Holy Week and all that means.)

We may then gather for a communion service on Maundy Thursday. The day we remember Jesus’ Last Supper with his disciples and how he demonstrated to them the need for humility as he knelt and washed their feet.

Then on Good Friday, we will have gathered again to worship. In Chippenham, Christians from many of the churches gather for a united service at my own church, Central Methodist. Perhaps 400 or 500 people all crammed together.

Then we leave and walk through the crowds of shoppers before ending with an open-air service.

These experiences will be common to Christians everywhere. But not this year. This Palm Sunday, this Holy Week, this Good Friday, the only crowds we will encounter will be those we read of in the Bible. We are all in “social distancing” of “self-isolation”. (Or we should be!)

I know I will miss joining together with other people at this most special time in the Church calendar. But we all know the importance of remaining in our homes, to void the risk of infection and spreading the virus.

Last week I took a phone call from a member of one of my congregations. We had a chat and she told me that she’d recently come across a hymn that she liked the words of. It comes from the “new” Methodist hymn book Singing the Faith.

The hymn is StF 610 “Best of all is God is with us”. It is based upon John Wesley’s final words “The best thing of all, God is with us”.

After the phone call from my friend, I looked up the words of the hymn and they really speak to us. It is not a Palm Sunday or Holy Week or Good Friday hymn. But it is a reminder that as we journey with Jesus this week, we are not alone – even if we live alone. For “best of all God is with us.” I hope you take comfort from these words:

Best of all is God is with us,
God will hold and never fail.
Keep that truth when storms are raging,
God remains though faith is frail.

Best of all is God is with us,
life goes on and needs are met,
God is strongest in our weakness.
Love renews, will not forget.

Best of all is God is with us,
hearts are challenged, strangely warmed,
faith is deepened, courage strengthened,
grace received and hope reformed.

Best of all is God is with us,
in our joy and through our pain,
till that final acclamation:
'life is Christ, and death is gain'.

Best of all is God is with us
as we scale eternal heights,
love grows stronger, undiminished;
earth grows dim by heaven's lights.

Words by Andrew Pratt © 2008 Reproduced by permission of Stainer & Bell Ltd
(If you wish to sing the hymn, you can sing it to the tune for “All for Jesus, all for Jesus”)

Dry bones

Methodists' Sundays are governed by “the Plan”. To the uninitiated “the Plan” sounds vaguely like something out of a James Bond film. “I’ve been expecting you Mr. Bond. I have the Plan!” Sadly, it’s not that exciting. The Plan is the Preaching Plan, the rota of who is leading worship on a particular Sunday.

A quick glance at “the Plan” shows that on the first Sunday of Lent I was taking the service at one of my little chapels, Studley. It was also St David’s Day. Now the fifth Sunday in Lent is here. Where has that time gone?

I’ve just opened the sermon I preached that Sunday and see that I talked about the need for us to care for the environment as God has placed us on this planet to be his caretakers. It seemed an appropriate topic for Lent. And there were a number of initiatives by various churches focusing on this theme.

But looking at my sermon notes for that day I see I made no reference to Corona Virus or Covid 19. I may have mentioned this in my prayers but certainly not in my sermon. 5 weeks ago, it didn’t seem “big news” in this country. Now of course life seems very different.

I suspect that for many people who started off Lent with the good intentions of being more environmentally aware, things have changed. That intention to buy less food and not throw away so much might have gone with the panic buying of food in supermarkets. Though on the positive side, a report on the BBC News web site a week ago showed that, for now anyway, air pollution and carbon dioxide emissions have fallen across the world due to Corona virus dramatically reducing the number of car journeys.

So far, one of the challenges for me as a minister during the Corona virus epidemic, is in trying to find a way of being your minister during this time.

There is no such thing as a typical week for me. But broadly speaking I have a service (sometimes two) on a Sunday. Each day I do some Bible study and make time for prayer. On Monday I start to think about the service for the following Sunday. This means reading the Bible for the suggested passages for the next Sunday. Usually by Monday afternoon I have a rough idea of what I want to talk about and can prepare an Order of Service with my hymns.

As the week progresses, the sermon will get written. But this is interspersed with church meetings, leading Bible studies, pastoral care and paperwork. All enough to keep me busy.

But now, many of these things are on hold. I can’t have face to face contact with people (though I can phone and write), I don’t have meetings or Bible study groups. There is, if truth be told, a sense of guilt.

Although I won’t have a service this Sunday (or on any Sunday for some time by the look of it) I have prepared an order of service for you to use if you wish. And I decided to look at the Bible passages for the fifth Sunday of Lent. One of those passages is taken from Ezekiel.

In the passage, Ezekiel, a prophet living with the Jewish people exiled to Babylon, sees a valley of dry bones. Skeletons. It is a vision. And we think the dry bones are meant to represent the Jewish people. They symbolise that they were spiritually dead. The Jewish people had turned their backs on God and in their sinfulness God has allowed them to be taken captive into Babylon. But in Ezekiel 37 God is prepared to give them a second chance. God is prepared to breathe new life into the Jewish people, the dead bones.

One of the Bible commentators I read, said Ezekiel was being presented with a vision of how God saw the world. A valley of dry bones. Lifeless.

In preparing a service to send out to members of my congregations for their own use on Sunday, I came across a prayer written by Donald Hinton:

To stop and think; that is the gift God offers in our Lent.
To pause and reflect; that is what God lays within our reach.
To look life in the face and ask its meaning; that is the opportunity God gives.
To see within ourselves and ask just who we are; that is an awesome task God offers.
And then step out to meet the Easter call. Donald Hinton Called to Praise

The prayer though could have been written for the situation we find ourselves in now. “To stop and think; that is the gift that God offers in Lent.” God presents us with this opportunity every Lent, but normally I for one am too busy to accept the gift.

This year God has taken his gift wrapped it up in brightly coloured paper, put a very big ribbon on it and put it right in my face. I cannot avoid the gift.

For me maybe a good thing that will come out of the enforced times of reflection we are all having to go through, will be the chance to look at the world through God’s eyes. To look at my own dry bones and the dry bones around me and then “prophesy to these bones and say to them ‘Now hear the word of the Lord’”?

In the future I’m sure many of us will look back on this time and try and think about what it meant to each of us. But I hope that each of us will use the opportunity now and in the future to consider what God is doing and what he wants to join in with.

Please take care. You’re in my prayers. Please pray for one another.


You can now listen to the all new "Not a normal vicar" podcast at https://soundcloud.com/revdgray-1/not-a-normal-vicar-1

It's alright for the birds, they don't want baked beans

At 5am this morning, I woke up to go to the toilet. My first thought was “makes a change from 3am”. As I went into the bathroom, I realised it was a bit chilly as I’d left the window open yesterday. I was about to shut it. But then, through the open window, I heard the dawn chorus for the first time this spring.

I’m not good at identifying bird song. I can just about identify a blackbird and a robin, so I don’t know what birds were singing. That doesn’t matter. It was the tweets and whistles and chirps that combined to form a glorious sound.

I returned to bed, and for a while all seemed right with the world.

But then today started.

My wife said around 7am she was going to Sainsburys to get some shopping. She was back within 10 minutes as she couldn’t get into the car park. It was annoying. We could manage for a couple of days no problem but the day seemed gloomier. And what if things weren’t better tomorrow?

We had breakfast and I suggested that we might get what we needed at Lidl. My wife was a bit sceptical, but we went.

Good old Lidl. We got 90% of the things on the shopping list (no sugar, cornflakes or baked beans.) But we’re ok. And other shoppers there were being sensible. (Apart from the bloke with at least 10 chickens in his trolley who was told in no uncertain terms by a member of staff to put 8 back in the fridge.) The lady on the till looked tired and stressed. I always thanks checkout operators and try and chat. But I made sure she knew how we appreciated what she and her colleagues were doing.

The day seemed brighter. And not just because, for once, I was proved right!

We then went off to the nearby little town of Corsham, to our favourite butcher and got what we needed there. We got some fruit and veg in the green grocers and paid a very important visit to the Corsham bookshop. (A gem of a place that needs support. What we’ve saved in my wife not spending on petrol to get to work this week, we used on buying books and CDs!)

I was on my mobility scooter, so I trundled back to the car to put the scooter away and the shopping in whilst my wife popped into Coop to see if they had the missing bits. My wife needed our one spare bag, so I dumped everything on the back seat and loaded my scooter in to boot. A young woman with a baby was next to me. She put the baby in her car and put the push chair away. Then she said to me “Are you ok? Do you need any help? I’ve got a spare bag for your shopping if you need it. You can have it no problem.” I thanked her and said my wife would soon be back. “That’s ok then. As long as you’re alright” and she gave a me a smile.

It was as if the drizzle had stopped and the sun had come out. The world seemed a better place.

(Coop had Cornflakes and sugar but no baked beans.)

Coming home I recalled a Bible passage, Matthew 6: 25 – 34, in which Jesus reminds his followers of the importance of keeping perspective on things and not worrying. And of not getting swept up in the things of the world.

25 ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? NIV

The birds of the dawn chorus seemed to be care free. They didn’t worry about toilet rolls, or cornflakes or baked beans.

I know it’s an easy thing to say “Don’t worry”. It is natural to worry. We are living in unprecedented times. Nothing like this has happened in most of our life times.

(And by the way, if I hear one more 50 year old idiot say “We survived the war” they may find that a walking stick, deployed in Christian love, hurts! Most people in this country were not alive “during the war”. And many who were probably were too young to remember rationing clearly or would not wish to experience rationing again.)

It is worrying when we see pictures of supermarkets with empty shelves. It is worrying if you’ve been told to work from home. It is worrying if you run a business and you wonder whether it will survive. It is worrying if you have a gig economy job that won’t pay sick pay. It is worrying when you’re sat on a checkout in Lidl coming in to contact with many people each day. It is worrying if you’re a medic dealing with really sick people and you wonder if you’ll catch the disease yourself and haven't been given the Personal Protective Equipment you need.

I'm worried. I worry about my own health. The health of my family. My elderly parents.

Covid 19 is worrying.

But for those of us with a faith all we can do is trust in those words of Jesus. Words that Eugene Patterson in The Message brings right up to date:

Matthew 6:25-34 The Message (MSG)

25-26 “If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.
27-29 “Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen colour and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.
30-33 “If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.
34 “Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes.

Still worried? If all else fails, get up at 5am, go in to the bathroom, open the window and listen to the dawn chorus. Then you’ll understand what Jesus means.