Monday, 1 June 2026

Sermon 7th June 2026 – 2nd Sunday after Pentecost Text: Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26 – The power of Christ’s healing touch.

 Sermon 7th June 2026 – 2nd Sunday after Pentecost

Text: Matthew 9:9-13, 18-26 – The power of Christ’s healing touch.

 

Have you ever reached desperation point and you just don’t know what to do? You’ve tried everything and nothing has worked. Well, that’s the situation we see today with a woman who has experienced a bleeding condition for the past 12 years. In fact, in Mark’s version of this situation he says - She had suffered a great deal under the care of many doctors and had spent all she had, yet instead of getting better she grew worse.  This account of the woman who had been bleeding for twelve years teaches us profound lessons about faith, desperation, and the power of Jesus’ touch. Can you imagine what she has been through?

 

For twelve long years, she suffered from a condition that not only caused her physical pain but also rendered her socially and spiritually unclean according to Jewish law. She endured the anguish of isolation and embarrassment, spending all she had on remedies that ultimately failed. We may not have experienced her exact suffering, but maybe you have experienced times of hopelessness and desperation in your own life.  The text tells us that she had heard about Jesus.  Perhaps she had witnessed others being healed or heard stories of his compassion and miracles. In her state of desperation, she mustered all her courage to step into the crowd, despite the risks associated with her condition.  This leads us to an important insight - desperation can lead us to a place of radical faith.  But it also challenges us to let people know that Jesus is there for us.

 

She knew about Jesus but how many don’t know about Jesus or don’t know the truth about who Jesus really is. Sometimes in life, it’s our lowest moments that awaken a deep faith within us. When we realize that we cannot rely on our own strength, we become open to the extraordinary possibilities of God’s intervention. That’s what St Paul means when he says “when I am weak then I am strong” because it is in those times of weakness we become aware of our need for God and also God’s love for us – in much the same way a parent’s love for a child is deepened when their child suffers.

 

In her heart, the woman believed that if she could just touch Jesus’ cloak, she would be healed.  Her faith was both humble and bold.  She didn’t need a judgement for her uncleanness; she needed a touch, a connection with the source of healing.  Like this woman, there are many who know their failings and where they fall short. But then again, the bible says that we all fall short in the glory of God. Grand gestures and public displays are often expected when important events take place. But God reminds us that it is often in the quiet whispers of faith that we find His greatest miracles. Like Elijah who didn’t find God in the fire, the earthquake or great wind – but in the sound of sheer silence. The woman’s touch was not just physical; it was a profound declaration of faith.  This wasn’t a last option but an option she should have taken first. She says - If I only touch his cloak, I will be made well. She knows that Jesus can heal her – why didn’t she go there first. We are the same.

 

We know that God has all the answers and hope we need – but why do we only go there as a last resort? Why do we try all our own efforts first and then pray when everything else fails? She truly believed that Jesus could heal her, and this belief opened the door to her healing. When the woman touched his cloak, immediately her bleeding stopped, and she felt the change in her body. She didn’t have to finish the course of anti-biotics or refill a prescriptions. Immediately she was healed.

Mark’s version is interesting. Mark says:  At once Jesus realized that power had gone out from him. What we learn here is that this is Jesus own power that goes into her to heal her. It’s the same mystery that St Paul says in his strength in weakness statement.  St Paul says - I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. What’s interesting here is the Greek word for “power”. The word in ‘dunamis’ from which we get the English word “dynamite” Christ’s power in us is explosive.

 

It’s nothing that the world can offer. This moment is a beautiful reminder that Jesus is always aware of our struggles. He is not just a distant healer;  He desires a personal relationship with us.  When we reach out to Him in faith, He meets us with grace and intimacy. The woman, trembling, comes forward and confesses what she has done. In that moment, Jesus declares, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace and be freed from your suffering.” And he doesn’t dismiss us in the way that the crowds would have dismissed this ‘unclean’ woman.

Jesus sees in us what the world dismisses just as Jesus shows in calling the tax collector Matthew to be one of his disciples. Tax collectors were despised by the Jews. They were seen as traitors – as thieves – and so Jesus is criticised when he goes to eat at Matthew’s house. “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?” But when he heard this, he said, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. Go and learn what this means, ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’ For I have come to call not the righteous but sinners.” Jesus doesn’t dismiss us because of our failings. No – he embraces us because of our failings. Jesus has come to us because of our failings. He died for our failings.

 

This woman's healing was not solely about physical restoration just as Jesus choosing of Matthew wasn’t because Jesus couldn’t find anyone else.  Jesus addressed her as "Daughter," reaffirming her identity and worth.  In that moment, Jesus restored not only her health but also her place in society and her relationship with God.  Likewise we are told that in John chapter one - to all who receive Jesus, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God— children born not of natural descent, nor of human decision or a husband’s will, but born of God. Sometimes our greatest wounds are not physical but emotional and spiritual.  Jesus desires to heal every part of our being.

 

When we come to Him with our burdens, He welcomes us, heals us, and calls us beloved. Just as God called Jesus his beloved in his baptism so too in our Baptism we are declared to be beloved children of God. As we reflect on the story of the bleeding woman, let us ask ourselves: What desperation are we facing today? What are the barriers that keep us from reaching out and touching the hem of His garment? Jesus is still waiting for us to come to Him, to lay our struggles at His feet, and trust that His power can transform our lives. The challenge for us today is to step forward in faith, as this brave woman did.  May we touch Jesus, not just with our hands but with our hearts, believing that He can heal, restore, and transform us so we carry her story in our hearts and seek to share the healing touch of Christ with others.

Tuesday, 31 March 2026

Easter Sunday main service 2026

 Easter Sunday main service 2026

 

Early in the morning, while Jesus’ disciples were still living with grief and disbelief, two women walked toward a tomb.  They carried no expectations other than to prepare Jesus’ body for proper burial.  They came in the face of death not expecting anything that they were about to experience.  Mary Magdalene and “the other Mary” went simply to see the tomb. Nothing  more. But God had other plans. It was still dark in the early Dawn. Dawn is a time of transition —the night has not yet gone, day has not yet arrived. It’s the perfect setting for resurrection, because the clarity of day has not yet arrived. Most of us don’t meet God in moments of clarity.

 

We often meet God in uncertainty—when we’re not sure what comes next, when grief still clings to us, when hope feels out of sight.  The women go to the tomb in the dark, and that is where God meets them. It is like Moses meeting God on top of Mt Sinai where he enters the dark cloud where God was. Suddenly the earth shakes and extraordinary things happen.  An angel descends. The stone rolls back. The guards collapse in fear. Notice what the angel does not do: He does not free Jesus from the tomb. He rolls the stone away so the women can see that Jesus is already gone. Resurrection is not God resuscitating to return to the old way of life. Resurrection is God doing something entirely new as John declares in his Revelation chapter 21 – God will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!”

 

.The angel’s message is simple and yet life changing: “He is not here; for he has been raised.” This is the heart of the gospel. Death does not get the last word. Violence does not get the last word. Fear does not get the last word. God does.

And that is so important today as we live with so much fear an uncertainty. Another war – uncertainty over petrol supplies – uncertainty over interest rates – my superannuation has lost a fortune.

 

The women run from the tomb “with fear and great joy.”  What a combination – fear and joy. It’s what King David declared in Psalm 23: Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will not fear because you are with me. That is what we call faith.  Joy in the midst of fear. Faith does not always give us the clear picture of the future but it tends to our fear. So it is often a mixture of fear and hope, confusion and courage.  The women don’t wait until they feel brave.  They run with what they have. The Good News.

 

And then—before they reach the disciples, before they have time to process anything—Jesus meets them. He doesn’t appear in the temple. He doesn’t appear in the palace. He appears on the road, to two women running with fear and faith.

And that’s where Jesus meets us – when we need him. His first word is not a lecture or a command. It is simply:  Greetings.” A word that brings warmth. I am here. I am alive. And I am with you. They fall at his feet and worship.

 

And then he gives them a mission: “Do not be afraid; go and tell my brothers.” And so the story ends with mission:

“Go and tell.” And that is still the message today: Go and tell. Jesus Resurrection is not a private message. It is a public declaration.

 

We are sent to proclaim hope in a world that still believes death is the final voice. We are sent to embody hope in places that feel hopeless in a world that still lives in darkness. We are sent to announce that Christ is risen—not as a 3 word slogan which is how politics tends to go, but as a reality that reshapes everything. The resurrection invites us to stand with the first disciples — to feel the earth shake beneath our feet, to hear the angel’s impossible news, to run with fear and joy,

and to meet the risen Christ on the road. And when he says, “Do not be afraid,” he is not scolding us. He is freeing us.

 

The world has changed because of Jesus’ resurrection. Death has been defeated. Christ is alive. And now we are Jesus’ witnesses of the resurrection. Go and tell – Christ has risen – he has risen indeed.

 

Easter Dawn Service 2026

 Easter Dawn Service 2026

 

The scene on that first Easter Sunday begins early on the first day of the week, while it is still dark.  Mary Magdalene walks toward the tomb carrying grief, confusion, and the weight of a world that has fallen apart. She walks in darkness—externally and internally. The stone is rolled away, and her heart is heavy with sorrow.  She runs to the disciples to tell them the grim news, “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.” Mary's anguish causes an immediate reaction from Peter and John. Many of us have experienced moments of grief, loss, and confusion.

 

In these moments we tend to dwell in the darkness of our circumstances, much like Mary did that morning.  But it is in these moments of despair that we become open to the incredible possibilities that God can bring forth. Peter and John run to the tomb. They race in a frenzy, driven by a desire to uncover the truth.  Peter, the impulsive one, arrives but doesn’t wait for John to enter even though John arrived first.  Together, they find the evidence but it doesn’t look like thieves have broken in. The linen wrappings lying in the tomb, the cloth neatly rolled up. These details signify more than just the absence of Jesus; they signify the reality of His resurrection. Here we have Peter, John and Mary searching for truth while at the same time wrestling with their uncertainties.

 

After the disciples return, Mary remains weeping outside the tomb. It is in her vulnerability that Jesus meets her.  She does not recognize Him at first, which demonstrates how grief can cloud our vision and understanding. Jesus himself stands behind her, and she does not recognise him. Grief can do that. Pain can blur our vision. Loss can make Jesus’ presence unthinkable. But then He calls her by name, “Mary” and in that moment, everything changes. When Jesus calls her name He not only reveals Himself but also affirms her identity. Jesus asks her the first words of Easter: “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you looking for?” It is not a rebuke; it is an invitation. Jesus meets her exactly where she is—tear-stained, confused, overwhelmed. Just as he will meet Thomas where he is with his doubts.

 

Jesus does not demand that Mary stop crying. Faith in Jesus does not mean we are demanded to not cry at death – even Jesus wept at the death of Lazarus. But, as Revelation promise – God himself wipes away our tears.. Mary is no longer a grieving disciple; she is a beloved daughter of Jesus.  "Rabbouni!" she exclaims, recognizing Him. Her despair turns into joy, and her life is forever transformed. One word. One moment. One voice she knows deep in her heart. And suddenly the world is new. The darkness lifts. The tomb is no longer the end of life but becomes a doorway to the presence of God.

 

Like Peter at the Transfiguration, not wanting the moment to end, Mary does what any of us would do—she reaches out, clings to him, tries to hold onto the moment. But Jesus says, “Do not hold on to me.” because resurrection is about going into future generations to share the good news. Easter is not God putting things back the way they were but God making all things new. Jesus sends Mary to share the good news: “Go to my brothers and say to them, ‘I am ascending to my Father and your Father, to my God and your God.’”  Here we see the importance of those who encounter Christ sharing their experience with the world. Her message is simple:  It is not theological trying to explain what has happened but declaring what she has witnessed. “I have seen the Lord.” Not “I have understood everything.” Not “I have solved the mystery.” Just:

“I have seen the Lord.” That is the heart of Christian witness.

 

Just as Mary encountered the living Christ and was sent forth to proclaim His resurrection, so too are we called to share the life changing power of the risen Savior in our own lives. In a world that often seems dark and uncertain, we have the privilege and responsibility to be messengers of hope and life.  The risen Christ calls us by name, inviting us into a relationship that empowers us to step beyond our own darkness, doubts, and fears to share with others His love and resurrection.

 

As we reflect on John 20:1-18, let us remember the blessings of this resurrection for our own lives.  Every encounter with the risen Christ calls us to move from darkness into light, from despair into hope. Today we are all encouraged to listen for Jesus calling our name.  We are invited to bring our grief, our struggles, and our pain, for they are part of our human experience.

Wherever you are, the risen Christ comes to meet you. He speaks your name. He turns your mourning into hope.

He sends you out with the same message Mary carried: “I have seen the Lord.” Jesus invites you to embrace the hope and joy that comes from knowing that Christ is risen.  May we go forth as witnesses to the resurrection, proclaiming to our world that Jesus Christ is risen indeed!

 

Good Friday 2026 -The only way for our salvation

 Good Friday 2026 -The only way for our salvation

 

Today is the most solemn day in our Christian calendar—Good Friday.  A day that may seem to be filled with sorrow, yet it holds the deepest revelations of love, sacrifice, and the power of redemption.  It reveals the standard of love that Jesus asks of us when he says love one another as I have loved you. It is a day that calls us to reflect on the sacrifice of our Lord Jesus Christ and the profound impact it has on our lives. As we remember the events of Good Friday, we visualize our Lord, weary and burdened, carrying the heavy cross through the streets of Jerusalem.  Each step He took was weighed down with the weight of the world’s sin, our sin.  The images of His beaten and bruised body should stir something within  us.  Why? Why did He endure such suffering?  Why did He choose a path of pain and humiliation? Why did God believe that this was the only way to pay for our eternal life in heaven. Does this show us just how serious our sin is – even when we think – it’s not that bad – everyone’s doing it.

 

God’s immeasurable love for each of us is revealed in John 3:16 "For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish but have eternal life."  Good Friday is that love.  Jesus did not see any other way than the way of the cross;  Even though in the garden of Gethsemane he begged his father to remove it from him Jesus shows us the depths of His commitment to our being saved from the punishment of sin. God made him who had no sin to become our sin so we could become his righteousness.

 

As we remember Jesus’ suffering, we become aware that suffering is an unavoidable part of our human experience.  In our lives, we encounter trials, heartache, and moments of despair.  Yet, we find comfort in the fact that Jesus understands our pain.  In Hebrews 4:15-16, we read, "For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence..."

 

On Good Friday, we are reminded that our suffering is because of our sin and our sin is the reason for Christ’s sacrifice. And therefore, just as Jesus death on the cross was not the end of the story, our struggles are not the end of the story as we reflect on Jesus’ resurrection and hope. Good Friday is mysteriously part of God plan revealed in Old Testament prophecy.  From the agony in the Garden of Gethsemane to the moment of His final breath, we see the unfolding of God’s plan for humanity.  Isaiah 53:5 proclaims, "But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the  punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds, we are healed."  Each prophecy fulfilled in the suffering and death of Christ underscores God’s plan for our salvation.

 

We are called to remember this in times of doubt.  When life throws challenges our way, let us cling to the truth that God’s promises are just that – promises. And Paul says – God’s promises cannot be revoked.  Good Friday is a reminder that even in moments of darkness, there is a greater plan at work to bring us light. So, let us not forget that Good Friday calls us to remember the cause of the cross. Our sin.

 

Being a disciple of Christ also means carrying our own crosses. Not ignoring our cause in Jesus death but bearing the weight of our sin when we are tempted and feel it’s easier to sin  and seek forgiveness than resist the temptation. Jesus said in Luke 9:23, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me."

Good Friday challenges us to embody the sacrifice of Christ in our daily lives. It compels us to love without condition, to forgive without limits, and to serve without seeking recognition.

 

As we reflect on the cross, let us ask ourselves, how can we be vessels of Christ’s love in a broken world? The same love that saw Jesus deny himself. So let us remember that Good Friday is the start of the greatest love story ever told that leads to the greatest gift ever given. Eternal life in heaven. As Paul says – the wages of sin is death – the price Jesus paid. But the free gift of God is eternal life in heaven where there will be no more suffering or death. It is a story of sacrifice, suffering, and ultimately, victory through the resurrection.  

Though today we mourn the reality of the cross, we do so with the knowledge that Sunday is coming—a day of hope and renewal. May the events of this day transform us, inspire us, and lead us closer to the heart of Christ.

Let us go forth, embracing the cross, proclaiming the Good News, and living out the love we have received. Amen.

 

Maundy Thursday 2026 – A new benchmark for love.

 Maundy Thursday 2026 – A new benchmark for love.

 

Maundy Thursday always feels special.  It is a night that focuses on the Lord’s table, a towel and a basin.  A night of bread broken and hearts breaking as Jesus’ disciples prepare to farewell him and news that one among them is about to betray him.  A night when Jesus gathers with His students, disciples, friends, for what looks like an ordinary meal, but becomes the promise of his presence and salvation after he is gone. It is the night when Jesus leaves his disciples with a new  commandment.  A new commandment I give you: that you love one another as I have loved you.  This certainly is different to the answer given to what is the greatest commandment – to love God with all your heart and to love your neighbour as yourself. Jesus now becomes the benchmark for love rather than ourselves.

 

It’s important that Jesus gives this command not at the beginning of His ministry, but at the end as they are about to witness what his love looks like as he lays down his life for us.  He gives this command to love not when the disciples are at their best, but when they are confused, fearful, and about to fail Him.  Jesus commands love in the very moment when love is hardest. Jesus shows tonight that love is not an emotion but an action. Before Jesus speaks a word, He acts.  He takes off His outer robe, wraps a towel around His waist, and kneels to wash the disciples’ feet. It is such an upside-down moment.

This Servant King, who flung stars into space now scrubs dust from between toes.  The One whom the wind and the waves obey pours water into a basin and fulfils Paul’s proclamation in Philippians 2 – he came to serve not to be served.  

 

Peter is still learning what it means to “love as I have loved you” and resists. He cannot imagine a Messiah who kneels.

And like his earlier statement when Jesus explains his arrest and death – never Lord – this will never happen to you – still proclaims – you will never wash my feet. But Jesus insists: Unless I wash you, you have no share with me. This is the heart of Maundy Thursday: Jesus does not save us from above in Heaven, he saves us from below with us. That was the angels promise – he shall be called “Immanuel” God with us. He kneels. He serves. He stoops to the lowest place showing that no one is too low for God to reach.”

 

Then Jesus takes bread.  Ordinary bread like we are using tonight.  And He says words that have echoed through centuries: This is my body, given for you. He takes a cup—simple, shared—and says, This is my blood, shed for you. The disciples do not understand. No one could. But in this simple, yet Holy act, Jesus is giving them a way to hold onto Him when everything else falls apart. He is giving them a meal that will carry them through betrayal, denial, fear, and grief. Showing that even though they will all abandon him at his greatest time of need that he “is with us” always. A meal that has and will carry the Church through centuries. A meal that carries us as it has carried Christians throughout the centuries through persecutions, dark ages and falling away.

 

In Holy Communion, Jesus gives Himself not as an idea, not as a memory, not as a representation but as his true body and blood – his real presence. Love comes through Grace as God becomes present. What makes this night even more astonishing is who is at the table. Judas the betrayer is there. Peter the denier is there. The others who will scatter are there. Jesus washes the feet of the one who will betray Him. He feeds the one who will deny Him. He blesses the ones who will abandon Him. If you ever wonder whether God’s love has limits, Maundy Thursday answers that question. Jesus loves to the end. He loves without condition. He loves knowing exactly who we are. And this is the benchmark he has left us.

 

A new commandment I give unto you – love one another as I have loved you. Not “love one another when it is convenient.”

Not “love one another when they deserve it.” Not “love one another when you feel like it.” As I have loved you. This is not sentimental love. It’s a love that costs. Even when the path leads to suffering. Even when the cost is everything including death On this night, we are invited to the table again. We come with our doubts, our failures, our fears—just like the disciples. And Jesus meets us with towel, basin, bread, and cup. He kneels before us. He feeds us. He forgives us.

He commands us. He loves us to the end. And now He sends us out—not into comfort, but into the night of the world—to love one another as he has loved us so that everyone will know that we are his disciples.

Monday, 23 March 2026

Sermon 29th March 2026 – Palm Sunday A humble King

 Sermon 29th March 2026 – Palm Sunday

A humble King

 

Holy Week begins as a celebration with Palm Sunday—people waving branches, shouts of “Hosanna,” the energy of a crowd that senses something big is happening. But then we notice something odd: this is the most unusual triumphal entry imaginable. No war horse. No armour. No chariots. Just a borrowed donkey, dusty cloaks, and a crowd that doesn’t yet understand what kind of king they are welcoming. Palm Sunday is a triumph, yes—but a strange one.  It’s the triumph of a king who refuses to be what the world expects. Jesus did not conform to the expectations of the world.  He reframed what it means to be a king.

 

In a society that elevates power, wealth, and domination, Jesus turned everything upside down. Just look at what our world is facing today regarding domination. Jesus teaches us that true strength lies in service, compassion, and humility. As Christians we are called to embody these values in our lives. As Paul says in our 2nd reading: Let the same mind be in you as was in Christ. Christ humbled himself and became obedient to the point of death-- even death on a cross. Therefore, God highly exalted him and gave him the name that is above every name,

 

Jesus enters Jerusalem not as a conqueror but as a servant and yet he still conquers.  Think of most worldly leaders who expect to be served by those under them – not Jesus. He came, not to be served but to serve. The donkey is not an accident; it’s a declaration. In the ancient world, kings rode horses when they came for war and donkeys when they came in peace.  Jesus is making a claim about who he is—and who he is not. And that’s probably what set the people against him. Yes, they wanted peace but they wanted peace on their terms by ousting the oppressive Romans. But it is through peace and humility that true triumph comes, as Paul says – At the name of Jesus every knee should bend, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue should confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.

 

Jesus is a king, but not the kind who dominates – he emptied himself and became a servant of all. It reminds me of King David who threw off the worldly armour placed on him to fight Goliath to fight him with the Name of God. You come at me with a sword, a spear, and a javelin, but I come to you in the name of the LORD of the Heavenly Armies, the God. Jesus is powerful, but not in the way people assume – he did not use his equality with God for his own advantage.. He is sovereign, but his sovereignty is expressed through humility.

 

Palm Sunday confronts us with a question: Do we truly want the king Jesus actually is, or, like the fickle crowd, the king we wish he would be? A king in God’s own image – or a King in our own image? And that’s exactly how people still see Jesus – they want a Jesus on their terms. The people were anticipating someone. God had promised to send someone to save them from the oppression. When Jesus entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, "Who is this?"  The crowds were saying, "This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee  They were shouting “Hosanna” “Hosanna” means “Save us!”  But the crowd’s idea of being saved was political. They want liberation from Rome.  And the only way this was going to happen was by a revolution.  They want Jesus to fix the world on their terms. And isn’t that how we think? We want God to fix the world on OUR terms. And when Jesus doesn’t – when he arrives on a donkey —when he refuses violence, refuses power games, refuses to be co-opted—these same voices will soon change from Hosanna to “Crucify”.

 

The call for us today is to examine our own hearts: Do we worship Jesus only when He meets our expectations? Are our shouts of “Hallelujah” consistent even during the storms of life? Palm Sunday exposes the fickleness of human hearts. It reveals how quickly praise can turn to disappointment when God doesn’t meet our expectations. But it also reveals something deeper: What they didn’t understand was that Jesus came to save them from far more than Roman enemy.  He came to save them from the true enemy: sin, fear, and death.

 

Jesus enters Jerusalem knowing exactly where the road leads: to confrontation, to betrayal, to suffering, to a cross.

The road Peter didn’t want him to take but one which was the only way to bring true victory over a much greater enemy – DEATH.

Jesus does not avoid it. He does not resist it. He walks toward it with purpose. This is the heart of Palm Sunday: Jesus chooses the path of self-giving love. He shows us that the kingdom of God does not advance through force but through sacrifice. Not through domination but through compassion. Not through victory as the world defines it, but through the victory of the cross.

 

Palm Sunday is the doorway into Holy Week, and it invites us to walk with Jesus—not cheering from the sidelines, but following him in costly discipleship. Palm Sunday is not just a story to remember; it’s a posture to adopt. We follow a humble king. So we are called to humility in our relationships, our leadership, our choices. As St Paul said in our 2nd reading –  Have the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus,  So we are called to lay aside our agendas and need for control—before the One who truly saves.

 

Following Jesus into Holy Week means embracing a faith that is not always comfortable. It means trusting God even when the path leads through the valley of the shadow of death. Palm Sunday is a promise: The story does not end in suffering and death although it passes through suffering and death. The king who enters in humility will rise in glory. Jesus still comes in humility. He still refuses to be the king we try to remake in our image. He still invites us to follow him into a kingdom shaped by love, mercy, and self-giving grace.

 

So today, with our palms we echo the ancient cry: “Hosanna! Save us!” And we trust that the One who rides the donkey is the One who saves—not by meeting our expectations, but by exceeding them in ways we could never imagine. So as we prepare to journey through Holy Week, let us carry the humility of Palm.  Let us recognize Jesus as our humble King — who, despite the temptation to choose the path of popularity, chose the path of suffering to save us.  Let us commit to living as reflections of His love and humility, eager to spread the Good News of His kingdom.

 

Tuesday, 17 March 2026

Sermon 22nd March 2026 – 5th Sunday in Lent Text John 9:1-45 - Authority over life and death

 Sermon 22nd March 2026 – 5th Sunday in Lent

Text John 9:1-45 - Authority over life and death

 

You often hear a comment in sporting comebacks – that this is the biggest comeback since Lazarus. The reference concerns a team that is losing suddenly and surprisingly finding a way to win. But do people understand what that saying actually means? We know that’s it’s about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead.  

 

This story is found only in the Gospel of John. But we need to understand that this is not merely a miracle of restoration but a profound revelation of who Jesus is and what his authority is over life and death – as he will tell Mary and Marthy – I am the Resurrection and the Life.  

 

This story reminds me of Job. If you’re not familiar with Job – Satan asked God for permission to test Job’s faith. Satan believed that Job only had faith in God because God kept blessing him. Take away his blessings and Job will curse you, said Satan. God gave him permission to take away everything Job had but God said to Satan you can’t touch Job. Satan does that and Job still blesses God – naked I came to this life and naked I will leave. So Satan asked to up the ante. Skin for skin. God permitted Satan to physically strike Job but he couldn’t take his life away from him. So Job is struck with painful sores – but still has faith in God as he tries to understand his suffering. In this we learn that God has power and authority over life and death. God sets the boundaries.

 

Jesus explained that in Matthew chapter 10 when he said - Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. And here Jesus shows that authority over life and death also. Here we will see the depth of God's love, the power of faith, and the promise of eternal life. The scene begins with Lazarus, the beloved friend of Jesus, falling ill.  His sisters, Mary and Martha, send word to Jesus, knowing that He has the power to heal.  However, Jesus intentionally delays His arrival.  Why would He choose to wait during a time of crisis?  Isn’t that a question we ask sometimes? Why doesn’t God answer my prayer for healing when I ask? This moment illustrates a fundamental truth about our relationship with God:  God’s timing often differs from our own.

 

Martha and Mary were deep in grief, surrounded by mourning and despair.  But also they were disappointed with Jesus – Lord if you had been here our brother would not have died. How many times have we found ourselves in similar circumstances of disappointment?  The story reminds us that grief is a part of our human experience, but it does not define our identity. Remember what St Paul told the Thessalonians – let us grieve – but not like those who have no hope. Hope is our identity. We have hope in Jesus being the resurrection and the life.

 

So Jesus responds to the disappointment with profound words of hope: "Your brother will rise again."  Martha acknowledges a future resurrection but doesn't grasp the present reality:  Jesus declares, “I am the resurrection and the life.” This is another of Jesus’ “I AM” statements – also unique to John’s Gospel. And just like St Paul who speaks of God’s promises being present realities – Jesus says “I AM” to create hope NOW.

 

What does this mean for us today?  It means that we are not just waiting for a distant promise of resurrection; we can experience the power of Christ’s resurrection in our lives here and now.  Jesus meets us in our pain and suffering, inviting us to believe in His ability to bring hope from despair, life from death, and joy from sorrow. Jesus is moved deeply by the grief surrounding Him.  He weeps with Mary and the mourners, showing us that He is not distant in our suffering.  As the book of Hebrews says – we have a High Priest who empathises with our sufferings. His compassion is real - He feels our sorrow - literally.

 

Yet, what follows must have felt incomprehensible to those present: “Take away the stone,”  Jesus commands.  In the face of death, He asks them to take an action that required faith.  Jesus invites us to participate in His work, even when it seems futile or beyond hope. What doubts, fears, or past failures do we need to lift from our lives?  What is blocking the doorway for God's miraculous work to be revealed. Finally, with a loud voice, Jesus calls, “Lazarus, come out!”  This is Jesus taking control over death.

Just like he took control over the wind and waves when he told them to “be quiet”. This is St Paul’s declaration in Philippians being fulfilled: God gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue acknowledge that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father

 

And much to the amazement of all, Lazarus emerges from the tomb, alive and unbound.  But death was not giving up – so Jesus commands again: Unbind him and let him go. This miracle is a foretaste of the greatest act of resurrection: Jesus conquering death itself. It’s only a foretaste because Lazarus will have to face death again. Lazarus serves as a symbol of our own spiritual awakening as we await our full resurrection to eternal life.

 

We, too, have been called out of the darkness of sin and death into the marvelous light of Christ.  The same power that raised Lazarus is at work in us daily, transforming our lives, renewing our spirits, and enabling us to walk in newness of life. As we reflect on the story of Lazarus, let us remember that Jesus is the Resurrection and the Life.  He invites us to lay our struggles at His feet and to believe in the power of His love and to keep hope in him even when it seems he has delayed his answer to our prayers. Whether you are facing the grief of loss, the weight of sin, or the uncertainty of the future, Jesus stands ready to bring life where there seems to be none.

 

Let us walk in faith, trusting in His word and roll away the stones obstructing our view of God's glory.

And let us rejoice in the truth that, through Him, we have eternal life—a life that begins now and continues forever. Amen.