Antonio Stradivari, a poor Italian violin maker, transformed discarded wood into priceless violins, illustrating that worth can arise from humble beginnings. His instruments, created from waterlogged timber, echo the message of the Incarnation, signifying potential for transformation and beauty within all, as expressed in the scriptures of Ephesians and Philippians.
Advent acknowledges our world’s brokenness but still has hope for God’s future. There is something honest about the season of Advent. Amid the literal darkness of winter and the metaphorical darkness of the bad news that fills our media, the Christian Church still hopes. Not because of something we are, but because of who God is.
The unspeakable Jewish name for God in the Old Testament, ‘Yahweh’, is believed by Jewish scholars to have been breathed, inhaling and exhaling: “YaH-WeH”. This makes ‘God’ our first and last word and our first and last breath.
The unique message of Christianity is that God has moved into the neighbourhood in the frail and vulnerable tent of humanity; exposed to the elements, at the mercy of the environment of human nature.
The ITV drama ‘Mr Bates vs The Post Office’ tells the true story of the Post Office Horizon computer system scandal which spans more than 20 years. But the real events and drama point to a question for any of us: ‘What do we do when systems fail?’
However much we dress up the nativity with tinsel and fairy lights, we cannot hide the real light that shines from the manger. Magic moments to be discovered each day.
Prior to COP 28 the head of the International Monetary Fund, Kristalina Georgiva, called for an end to an attitude of “business as usual” if the world wanted to manage global warming. Beyond ecotastrophe can a more inspiring vision motivate us? What about the concept of eucatastrophe created by Tolkien?
The British are known for some unusual habits, one of them is the ability to queue. Some say it comes from the days of rationing during World War Two. Whatever the case, standing in line is like a form of limbo.  We are neither here nor there, and just have to wait. This is Advent Limbo.
Times of collective fear and terror are nothing new – it’s just that the object of our collective fears may change. When we have witnessed our world come to an end, we have to face the ultimate, apocalyptic question, who or what, do we really trust?
For anyone who wishes to follow Jesus, the pivotal question is not, ‘Who do you say that I am?’ Instead, it’s implied by Jesus’ words that ends Mark chapter 8. That pivotal question is, ‘Who will you be now?’ In other words, what will we do that is different once we recognise Jesus as the Messiah, the Christ, the Son of the Living God? If we do nothing that is different, have we even answered the question: ‘Who will we be now?’
Beyond the legend, St. George had to face a question. Was he the centre of his own universe or was their something more worth defending? A dragon that needed defeating?
I grew up going to a church with bullet holes in the walls. What I should explain is I grew up going to a church with bullet holes in the walls that originate from the English Civil War (1642-1651). All I can say is that it was something of a surreal experience as a child to sing hymns of peace and love while surrounded by these historic reminders of divided humanity.
