what's on
Sunday 16 August - AGM after the service
Wednesday 26 August - Young at Heart (10:30am)
Wednesday 26 August - Young at Heart (10:30am)
tenth sunday after pentecost (2 august)
The disciples had a perfectly reasonable plan. “Send the crowds away so they can buy food for themselves.” Measure the need, calculate the shortfall, and let the marketplace sort it out. Jesus will have none of it. “They need not go away,” He says. “You give them something to eat.”
With five loaves and two fish He ends the whole system of measuring, pricing, and scrambling. Moses could only manage complaints and temporary manna. Jesus takes the little that is offered, blesses it, and creates abundance. The wilderness becomes a place of free gift. In the kingdom of heaven nothing has a price.
This is no mere lesson in sharing, nor a clever sign pointing somewhere else. Christ is actually present in His word, feeding both body and soul. He cares about the belly that growls and the heart that doubts. He provides ordinary bread through farmers and parents, and He gives the living word that creates faith and never dies.
So come hungry. Come with your five loaves of inadequacy and your two fish of fear. Christ does not send you away to buy what you cannot afford. He takes what you have, multiplies it by pure promise, and satisfies you.
You are chosen. Christ is present. His Word is spoken over you. And that promise will never leave you hungry.
We Pray For:
† The church, that it may always speak the truth of Christ.
† Those who serve the church with their gifts: those who prophesy, those who serve, those who teach, those who encourage, those who give, those who lead, and those who show compassion.
† Those who persecute the church.
† The nations of the world and their rulers, that God's will may be done.
† Health and welfare institutions and personnel: doctors, nurses, hospitals, homes for the aged, carers, social services, administrators, social workers.
With five loaves and two fish He ends the whole system of measuring, pricing, and scrambling. Moses could only manage complaints and temporary manna. Jesus takes the little that is offered, blesses it, and creates abundance. The wilderness becomes a place of free gift. In the kingdom of heaven nothing has a price.
This is no mere lesson in sharing, nor a clever sign pointing somewhere else. Christ is actually present in His word, feeding both body and soul. He cares about the belly that growls and the heart that doubts. He provides ordinary bread through farmers and parents, and He gives the living word that creates faith and never dies.
So come hungry. Come with your five loaves of inadequacy and your two fish of fear. Christ does not send you away to buy what you cannot afford. He takes what you have, multiplies it by pure promise, and satisfies you.
You are chosen. Christ is present. His Word is spoken over you. And that promise will never leave you hungry.
We Pray For:
† The church, that it may always speak the truth of Christ.
† Those who serve the church with their gifts: those who prophesy, those who serve, those who teach, those who encourage, those who give, those who lead, and those who show compassion.
† Those who persecute the church.
† The nations of the world and their rulers, that God's will may be done.
† Health and welfare institutions and personnel: doctors, nurses, hospitals, homes for the aged, carers, social services, administrators, social workers.
eleventh sunday after pentecost (9 august)
Jesus does not ease the disciples into the storm. He compels them into the boat, dismisses the crowds, and leaves them to battle the wind and waves alone. Then, in the dead of night, he comes walking on the water. Without a word he is pure terror, a phantasm, a ghost, something divine and therefore deadly. The sight of Jesus Christ without his speaking is not comforting. It is the law made visible, and it drives them to cry out in fear.
Into that terror he speaks: “Fear not, it is I.” Not “try harder,” not “believe more strongly,” not even “come.” Just the pure promise. The word that creates what it declares. The absolution that unites rather than separates. This is the gospel that arrives near you, in your mouth and in your heart, exactly as Paul says in Romans 10. No climbing to heaven to drag Christ down. No descending into the depths to haul him up. He comes speaking.
Peter does what we all do. He answers a promise as though it were a question. “Lord, if it is you, command me…” The little word “if” turns gift into condition. He asks for law after the gospel has already been given. He wants Jesus as an example to imitate rather than as the sacrament who gives. So, he steps out, eyes fixed on the wind instead of the word, and the law does its proper work: fear rises, the conscience collapses, and he sinks.
Jesus reaches out and pulls him up, yet even then he does not soften the diagnosis. “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” That is not gentle encouragement. It is the law’s final verdict on every attempt to turn the promise into a performance. Faith is not a power we muster while looking at the waves. Faith is created by hearing, and hearing comes only through the word that says, “Fear not, it is I.”
So, hear it again, without addition, without question, without a single thing for you to do: Fear not, it is I speaking to you. I have taken your sin. I forgive it entirely. Do not be afraid.
Into that terror he speaks: “Fear not, it is I.” Not “try harder,” not “believe more strongly,” not even “come.” Just the pure promise. The word that creates what it declares. The absolution that unites rather than separates. This is the gospel that arrives near you, in your mouth and in your heart, exactly as Paul says in Romans 10. No climbing to heaven to drag Christ down. No descending into the depths to haul him up. He comes speaking.
Peter does what we all do. He answers a promise as though it were a question. “Lord, if it is you, command me…” The little word “if” turns gift into condition. He asks for law after the gospel has already been given. He wants Jesus as an example to imitate rather than as the sacrament who gives. So, he steps out, eyes fixed on the wind instead of the word, and the law does its proper work: fear rises, the conscience collapses, and he sinks.
Jesus reaches out and pulls him up, yet even then he does not soften the diagnosis. “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” That is not gentle encouragement. It is the law’s final verdict on every attempt to turn the promise into a performance. Faith is not a power we muster while looking at the waves. Faith is created by hearing, and hearing comes only through the word that says, “Fear not, it is I.”
So, hear it again, without addition, without question, without a single thing for you to do: Fear not, it is I speaking to you. I have taken your sin. I forgive it entirely. Do not be afraid.