We are in the middle of a sermon series at my church just now and we are concentrating on mission and evangelism. I was privileged to be given the chance to preach this morning and I thought I would share with you the text of my talk (more or less) as I delivered it. 



Readings: 1 Peter 3: 8 – 22 & John 4: 1 – 30

“I wanna tell you a story”. A stoooooory. I think it was Max Bygraves who said that and I think he was on to something.

Stories are what make us human. They are absolutely integral to the experience of being a human being, and stories have knitted us together since the dawn of time. Our early ancestors shared stories to educate each other and to entertain each other, and the tradition of storytelling is central to every civilisation. When we talk about our past we talk about history – his story. Our stories are ways of sharing who we are.

We tell stories all the time, and by stories I want to make it clear that I don’t mean lies, or fabricated versions of the truth. That’s a different thing, and something that Peter reminds us of in our first reading today. Verse 10 – I’ll paraphrase “if you want to enjoy life and wish to see good times, you must keep from speaking evil and stop telling lies.”

A story is different. We all hear them, tell them, and we all have one. The urge to tell a story is right there at our very core. It’s how we share our lives, our concerns, our dreams, our hopes. But for some reason, many of us feel that when it comes to telling the story of our faith, we have some sort of a barrier or reluctance to tell it to others.

You may know that I am currently studying for my Master’s degree. I’m nearly at the end of my first year now, and my studies are all about the art of storytelling, whether it’s my own creations or other’s work. I am studying the way stories are told in books and short stories and those in film and plays. One of the things we talk about (and argue about) is the how of storytelling. Nobody argues that there is a need to tell them, but there are millions of opinions and interpretations of the best way to do it. It falls broadly into two categories, we can either tell stories or we can show them. The best novels and films do a bit of both and it is a balancing act every single time, but it’s something we can learn from when it comes to telling the story of our selves and our faith.

St Peter’s Church, Blackley viewed from the north side

To illustrate what I mean, here’s a short clip of how actions speak louder than words. I want you to pay attention to what you pick up about his character from the way he acts this scene:

I showed a clip of a scene from “Frasier” where Niles was alone in the apartment waiting for his Valentine’s date. He spots an odd wrinkle on his trousers and decides to correct it by ironing it and then follows one of the funniest scenes I have ever seen on TV. There is no dialogue, only a music soundtrack and the odd word from him and a couple of barks from Eddie the dog. As the scene progresses we see Niles cut his finger, spill some cleaning fluid, set fire to his pants and then eventually set fire to the settee while Eddie enjoys the romantic meal Niles had cooked for his date. [I don’t want to risk any copyright issues by sharing the clip online].

I wonder when it comes to sharing your story with others, where do you stand on the spectrum of showing or telling? Not everyone is comfortable or confident in telling, but as disciples of Christ, the absolute very least we can do, is the showing bit.

I was invited to St Mary’s last Sunday to speak to the congregation there about my musical journey and how it intersects with my faith. I spoke about the small words of encouragement I received at vital times and how it didn’t really take a lot for a small seed of interest to blossom into this passion for music that I have held throughout my life. I find it so easy to talk about music – where it has taken me, the sights I’ve seen, the people I have met and so on, and I can talk for hours about what music does to me in terms of it being a prayerful activity, both playing it and listening to it. And yet, and yet, as confident as I am about talking about music and prayer, it seems that when it comes to talking about my faith journey it is so much more difficult. I get a bit embarrassed, I filter my own words before I speak, I try to pre-empt what people are going to think – especially if they are strangers and I don’t know what their reaction is going to be. When I think about the times I have felt the presence of God, when I know he has brought me through something particularly frightening or bleak, and I think about how to tell those stories, those filters that I apply to myself come into play. At best I think they’ll be bored and worst I think they’ll think I’m a nutter. Like in the bandroom, the word “Jesus”, if I say it out loud, seems to hover in mid-air for ages and sticks out like a sore thumb.

I will be a fluent faith story teller one day, but for now I’m still very much a work in progress.

Jesus himself told stories. He used parables – a type of story – to describe what God’s kingdom is like. We all know them: the kingdom of God is like this (buried treasure, a mustard seed, wise and foolish builders, the Samaritan).

So what about your story? Only you can tell it, only you has the words to share your story.

You might wonder what it is about your story that’s worth sharing. You might be sat there thinking – well I’m nothing special, nothing dramatic has happened in my life. You might think that it’s only people who have done the whole crash and burn and reborn thing that are worth listening to, or that people who have done the brave battles with major health problems or addiction for example that have a worthy story to tell.

But that’s just not true. We all have a story! We are all part of God’s wonderful creation and we all have faith in him. We must do, or we wouldn’t be here today. We might not feel like our faith is big enough or deep enough, but I assure you it is. Your personal story is part of God’s bigger one, and though may feel it is insignificant or even perhaps too broken to be part of God’s story, then think again. We are all part of this huge ongoing, unfolding story and the more we share it, the bigger it gets and the easier it gets to share.

We have to do it – we are commanded to do it. Jesus himself tells us to go out and share the good news. He told the Samarian woman at the well to go back and tell the others about her encounter with him, and he tell us the same thing. She felt that her life was doomed – with five husbands and being a Samaritan not a Jew, she felt unworthy, unloved, apart from things. But Jesus’ gift is not to set us apart but to make us a part of his story. To include and to enfold us, no matter how we feel our lives are going or where we have been.

It seems like a daunting task doesn’t it? To actively go out there to show and tell people that we are faithful followers of Christ, but we have to do it. Just as Niles couldn’t help but show us his character through his actions with his trousers, we can’t help but show our Christian character to the people around us. But, like in the silent movies of yesteryear, showing people is only still part of it. We do have to add words to our actions. Charlie Chaplin, that great silent storyteller of the early 20th Century, even he had to use cue cards every now and again to help the audience understand his story. Even he, the best silent movie star ever, had to rely on words. And so must we when we show/tell the story of our faith.

We do gain from the experience though, it’s not just a one way outpouring of “self” when we share our story. When we begin to open up about our faith and when we allow God to be reflected in our lives, it does a couple of significant things. First of all, it strengthens our own faith. I suppose you could look at it like practicing a musical instrument, or when you learn a foreign language or a new skill. The more you do it the easier it becomes and it in turn enriches your life and you want to do more of it. The same with sharing faith. It might feel difficult or daunting to begin with, but the more you do it the easier you will find it. After all, you are only ever being you.

The other thing is that when people see you reflecting God’s kingdom in your own life, whether it is through your actions or by the words you use, or the combination of both, it invites them in and offers them pathways to encounter God for themselves. For me, that is the whole point of mission, to invite others in for them to encounter God for themselves.

So to finish, your story matters, and the way that you share your story is down to you.

However we do it – whether it is the quiet ways of living our lives and the way we treat other people; our hospitality in the truest sense of the word, the way we turn from evil, the way we seek peace, showing that we are not afraid, by being gentle and respectful in accepting God’s will, even if it does mean great suffering, or whether it’s through a combination of words and actions, however we do it, we must do it. Peter laid it all out for us, and not only does he list the how of sharing our story, he reminds us of the why.

Christ suffered, not for his sins, but for ours. He was put to death so that we might live. That’s why we share God’s – and our own – story. It’s up to you how you balance your show and tell, but you can’t do all one and not the other. Going back to the clip we just watched, there is the use of music, the dog barks warnings, there is the odd word here and there. When it comes to telling our story, we have to use whatever tools or props we have to hand in the telling of it.



Teaching aims:

·        We are convinced much more by stories than arguments

·        Your own story is powerful and meaningful, because

o   it supports your own faith

o   it invites others to share your faith



Lent challenge

Lent Challenge – “Give”

Part of the Lenten discipline is to give – to charity, of your time, of yourself, help to others – and this picture represents one of those.

It’s not always possible for me to give cash to charity, but something that I’ve been trying to do is to crochet some hats to give to a homeless charity here in Manchester. They probably won’t be needed much now that the worst of winter has gone, but I have given some already and there will be some more to give when autumn comes around again later this year.

I wish I did have the cash to give, but like Jesus taught us, giving what you can is enough. Paul wrote of it too, and said: “For if the readiness is present, it is acceptable according to what a person has, not according to what he does not have” (2 Corinthians 8:12). Put another way Paul is saying that you should give in proportion to what God has given you. God has given me the gift of creativity and at the moment it’s the best way I can of contributing and making someone’s life better somewhere.


Lent challenge

Lent Challenge – “Still”

Today’s prompt is “still”, and I have been thinking about how that relates to Lent and what it means as a Christian. I couldn’t help but think of the hymn “Be still for the presence of the Lord”, in that it both commands and reassures us at the same time. Jesus commanded the storm to “be still” (Matthew 8:26 and Mark 4:39), and Psalm 107 also talks about the one who stills the storm – timely reminders in the bad weather we have experienced recently in the UK.

If you are not familiar with the words and music of this hymn then be still awhile and let this video reach out and touch you.

God commands us to “be still” too when he tells us we should observe the Sabbath each week. I plan to do that tomorrow both at church for morning worship and at home for rest and relaxation with my family.

The Lent Challenge will continue on Monday where the prompt is “celebrate”.


Lent challenge

Lent Challenge – “Refresh”

Today’s #LentChallenge prompt is “refresh”, which made me think about spiritual refreshment as much as the physical type. One of my favourite places to be is by the seaside and lighthouses hold a particular fascination for me, which is why I chose this photo to share with you today.

As a Christian, there is a subtext to the inclusion of a lighthouse in this picture representing “refreshment”, in that Christ is the Light of the World. I also like the reflection on top of the rock in the foreground of this this photo. The church is built on Peter (the rock), and as one of the first disciples Peter is one of the first to reflect and share the good news of Jesus’ death and resurrection.

I am looking forward to a period of refreshment this summer on the Northumberland coast. It is one of my favourite places to be – vast skies, vast beaches, few people, space to reflect and relax. And one or two castles, churches and lighthouses to explore too.



Lent challenge

Lent Challenge – “Follow”

There are different ways to interpret today’s prompt of “follow”. In today’s social media based world, to “follow” someone means something different from when I was a child. Then, the idea of following someone was usually meant as part of a game, or when the teacher took us on a trip out to the swimming baths and we had to walk in a line, following the one in front.

That’s the sense of “follow” that I wanted to write about today, were to “follow” implies that there is first of all a leader, and second, a destination. In terms of Christianity, we follow Jesus. He is our leader and our destination is heaven, no?


But what we do along the journey is as important (if not more so) as the destination. In following Jesus, we are called to spread God’s word and invite others to follow him too. It is in that call and response that God’s kingdom is grown here on earth as more people become followers of Christ, and those followers become true disciples.

There are different ways to respond to that call, and I have found that in different phases of my life my response has been wildly different. I have responded with noisy enthusiasm, with joy and with an almost crusading spirit at some points, and at others, my response in that call to follow Jesus has been quiet, contemplative and personal. During this time of Lent, my response has been more on the quiet and contemplative side, and as we progress towards Easter I am curious to find how that response changes.


My Song Is Love Unknown

We sang “My Song Is Love Unknown” tonight at Bible study, and I was struck by a couple of lines.

Here is a link to the hymn as sung by the King’s College, Cambridge Choir and below is a photograph of the bit that stood out for me.

I love this hymn for many reasons, and depending on when we sing it and at what festival or occasions, different things speak to me at different times. Tonight I was struck by verse 5:

Especially the lines that describe how the Prince of Life (Jesus) went cheerfully to his suffering (I’m paraphrasing slightly). When we sang it, it made me think of two things: first, that Jesus would do that for us, to die for us, and second, that no matter what our lot in life, no matter how difficult our circumstances or tasks ahead, we can take heart from the fact that when Jesus went to the cross for us, he did so “cheerfully”. If he can do that for us, what can we do for others in that same attitude?

The burdens we are given to bear are nothing like the burden Jesus carried for us, and yet we struggle, grumble, complain and fight against them. The lesson here in this hymn is that if he can do that for us, we owe it to him to bear our own burdens just as cheerfully and willingly.



Recognising Jesus

I was privileged to lead, preach and pray in my church this morning, and I thought to share with you on here too. The readings were Hebrews 2: 14 – 18, and Luke 2: 22-40, and the children were present throughout our worship this morning – they usually go for their own teaching during worship to Sunday School, but they stayed in the main service today.

Sermon Text

It doesn’t seem like it, but Christmas was only a month ago. I don’t know about you, but for me, the month since Christmas has felt nothing like the month of Advent before it.

I was at St Mary’s for their Advent Sunday service, and I preached about waiting. The kinds of things that we wait for, what it feels like to wait, waiting for something which you know is going to be special, but without knowing exactly what. I’m sure you remember the feeling of waiting and preparation for Christmas during Advent, but there is more to the type of Advent waiting that was going on when people were waiting for the Messiah in the first place.

Let me show you a clip of a video which shows us another type of waiting.

You see how excited Jessie is to meet Woody? See how she leaps around…”it’s you! it’s you!”. She can’t keep herself still with the excitement of finally meeting Woody, someone she has been wanting to meet for such a long time.

Contrast her reaction with the old Prospector. He was more sedate, awestruck even. He talked about how he has waited “such a long time” to meet – as he calls it – the Prodigal Son. He says “we have waited countless years for this”.

Did you notice too, that Woody was surprised that the Prospector used his name? Jessie tells him “everyone knows your name, Woody”.

So we have someone who everybody knows is coming, who people have been waiting a long time for, and for whom everybody is thrilled and awestruck at finally meeting. If we watch the next bit of the film, we learn that Woody has got a purpose, of bringing the Round Up gang back together, of restoring them to the glory days if you like.

Sounds a bit like waiting for Jesus doesn’t it?

But there’s more to it than that, and this is where our Gospel reading today comes in.

Now I’m not for one minute suggesting that we can substitute Jesus and Woody, but we can draw a comparison to the expectations and excitement that both Jesus and Woody drew from people around them.

In our Gospel reading, we heard how Anna and Simeon both recognised Jesus, and who both gave thanks for his arrival and then prophesied about his future.

Jesus was in the temple that day because Mary and Joseph were required to present him soon after birth, according to the law. He was to be brought to the temple, and as the first born son, he was to be dedicated to the Lord. We know now, 2000 years later, that he was the Lord, but back then at only a month old, nobody else – except Simeon and Anna – did.

Simeon was first to proclaim he recognised who Jesus was, and like the Prospector in our video, said he had always known this day would come, and that he had waited a long time for it. He prayed to God, with that familiar passage that we know now as the Nunc Dimittis, “Sovereign Lord, as you have promised, you may now dismiss your servant in peace”

Simeon prophesies about Jesus and his purpose here on earth. He says he will be “a light for the revelation to the Gentiles, and the glory of your people Israel”. Simeon recognised, with guidance from the Holy Spirit (verse 26), that Jesus’ purpose was twofold: to bring light to the Gentiles, and to the glory of Israel. In other words, to all people.

If you remember, the Israelites were waiting for the Messiah to come to restore them, but Simeon says that he was to bring light to the Gentiles also. Not just healing and redemption of one people, but of all people.

Although we don’t hear Anna’s words in this reading, Luke does record that she also spoke of Jesus’ redemptive purposes.

We hear more about why and how Jesus came to earth in our other reading today, from Hebrews. In it, we are told that God came in human form as Jesus, a fully formed human being. Flesh and blood, with fears, loves, temptations and emotions. Jesus was long awaited, and fully human. He was at one with his people here on Earth, and as both Anna and Simeon said when he was a tiny baby presented at the temple a month after his birth, with a job to do.

And so, where does that leave us? Today, here in Blackley [and in our communities wherever we are]?

We are reminded at the end of our Gospel reading that Mary and Joseph were on their way back to Nazareth soon after they had presented Jesus in the temple, in other words, going back to normal life after their precious son was born. And so it is for us. Christmas is over, and it’s time to get on with normal life again.

But for us, like it was for Mary and Joseph, having Jesus in our lives means that there is a new meaning to the word “normal”. What is normal life when we have Jesus at its heart? I suppose that is a topic for a different sermon, but it is definitely something to think about as we approach our Lenten sermon and prayer series.

We are going to dismantle our Crib Scene shortly which was put together by the children at the Crib Service on Christmas Eve. We will pray as we do so, for our community, for our church and for our world. The waiting for Simeon was over, for he had seen the Lord, but for us, the wait for Christ’s coming again goes on. And as we wait, we pray that just as Jesus, the Messiah, the healer and bringer of redemption, was recognised by Anna and Simeon in the temple that day, that we too recognise Jesus in the faces and in the lives of those around us today.



Prayers of Intercession
(during which the children removed the various figures, leaving Jesus in his crib)

The Wise Men 

Lord, may these figures of the Wise Men remind us of those who travel across continents to find what they are looking for. We remember especially those who flee from war torn countries, who seek to escape violence and hate filled regimes. We ask that you comfort those who are frightened, those who are hurting and those who seek peace. We pray especially for leaders of our nations and our communities, that they receive your wisdom to be act in the good of all people. We remember those too who give of everything they have in the name of their faith in Jesus Christ.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer.

The Shepherds 

Lord, may these figures of the Shepherds remind us of those who society does its best to ignore. Those who are trapped in poverty, those on the fringes and don’t know how to join in, those who feel they are not good enough. As Jesus took human form, remind us that he is present in everybody we meet. Give us words of love and acceptance to speak to those who don’t feel they deserve it. Equip us to help those on the edges by bringing them in. Remind us that the good news of Jesus’ birth was shared with such as these.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer

The Angels 

Lord, may the figures of these angels remind us of the connection we feel with heaven through these very prayers, and the prayers we offer each day to you. Remind us as we pray that we are not alone, and just as the angels carried messages of Jesus’ birth, give us the words to say to people we meet to share his good news with them.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer

Mary and Joseph 

Lord, your precious gift of Jesus was born to Mary, and he was raised by Joseph until he reached the time of his ministry. As we remove these figures from the crib, we are reminded that for them, like us, with Jesus in our midst there is a new normal to be found. We ask ourselves how can we ever be the same again after meeting Jesus, and we ask you now to refresh us and renew us daily, putting him at the centre of all.

Lord in your mercy, hear our prayer

And as we close our prayers, and before we say the Lord’s prayer together, let us just pause for a moment to consider Jesus who is left behind in the crib as a reminder that he lives amongst us, and is present in all our actions and interactions with other people. Lord, we ask that you open our eyes to recognise him, just as Simeon and Anna did in the temple that day.

And so we say together the words that Jesus taught us:

Our Father in heaven,
hallowed be your name.
Your Kingdom come,
your will be done,
on earth as in heaven
Give us today our daily bread.
Forgive us our sins,
as we forgive those who sin against us.
Lead us not into temptation,
but deliver us from evil.
For the kingdom,
the power and the glory are yours.
Now and for ever.