Welcome to exultemus. Through this blog I hope to give air to my thoughts about the world as seen through the eyes of faith.
I have been a priest in the Church of England for more than forty years and am now retired and living in South East Cornwall. I worship at St Neot, and am happy to help out in local churches when asked.
You are welcome to leave comments agreeing or disagreeing, but I reserve the right to remove any offensive or unnecessarily personal remarks. I may respond – if your comments seem likely to start an interesting debate.
The text of a sermon preached on Sunday 13th September 2026 at the Church of St Melor, Linkinhorne, Cornwall.
The set readings were, Exodus 1419-31 Romans 141-12 Matthew 1821-35
Peter went up to him and said, “Lord, how often must I forgive my brother or sister who wrongs me? As often as seven times?”
Then the master sent for the man and said to him, “You wicked servant, I cancelled all that debt of yours when you appealed to me. Were you not bound, then, to have pity on your fellow-servant just as I had pity on you?”
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Forgiving people is the easiest thing in the world – until it isn’t!
A little over forty years ago I was just beginning my second curacy in Southmead in Bristol. We didn’t have a huge congregation – just 20 or 30 people on a good Sunday – but there was no shortage of the faithful and devout people who make up the core of all of our congregations.
There was one man, Geoffrey, in particular that I recall. Not long after I had started in the parish I visited him in his home. His wife made us tea and brought some cakes and we got to chatting. He was in his late sixties, I guess, and he was the sort of person we tend to speak of as a pillar of the church, a committed Christian and someone who lived out an obvious and attractive faith. He had held offices in the church as churchwarden and represented us on the deanery synod. He prayed and read his bible. He had a clear idea of how a Christian should live their life.
But there was one part of his life of which he was deeply ashamed – there was one group of people that he could not forgive. He told me,
I try;I know I should;I pray to God about it. But even now, after all these years, I cannot forgive. If one of them walked in the roomnowI wouldget up andleave for fear of what I might do or say.
Like most other men of his generation he had served in World War II and he was one of those who had been a prisoner of the Japanese in the Far East. He could not forgive – not so much for the things that had been done to him, as for what he saw done to his comrades. He knew that his Christian faith demanded that he forgive, but he simply could not manage it.
“Lord, how often must I forgive my brother or sister who wrongs me? As often as seven times?” Jesus answered, “Not seven, I tell you, but seventy-seven times.”
‘”You wicked servant, I cancelled all that debt of yours when you appealed to me. Were you not bound, then, to have pity on your fellow-servant just as I had pity on you?” And in his anger the master handed him over to the torturers till he should pay all his debt. And that is how my heavenly Father will deal with you unless you each forgive your brotherand sisterfrom your heart.’
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
Forgiveness is not an optional extra – but that doesn’t mean that it is ever easy. We are required to forgive. But we all know that, like Geoffrey, there are things that we would find difficult, or even impossible, to forgive.
Jesus had just said to his disciples, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven; whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. Withholding forgiveness is serious.
And here Peter’s question suggests that he thinks that there are, or should be, limits to how much he can be expected to forgive a brother or sister who wrongs him.
How much? How often? Really? That much? There must be a limit – there must be a sin that cannot be forgiven, or a sin too many.
But seventy-seven is not to be taken literally. I’m sure it means quite a few more timesafteryou’velostcount.
But it is not just about how often we should forgive someone but, as the parable of the unforgiving debtor teaches us, being forgiven ourselves is tied to how ready we are to forgive,
that is how my heavenly Father will deal with you unless you each forgive your brother and sister from your heart
And, as we pray whenever we worship together or in our own home, in the Lord’s Prayer,
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.
But perhaps that parable has something else to teach us about forgiveness that is easily missed because we always think about the contrast between the two debts – the one enormous and the other trivial – and never about why the first servant, forgiven so much, is unable to respond with mercy to his fellow servant.
The debt is absurdly large – Jesus frequently uses hyperbole, exaggeration, to emphasise a point. And surely that is what he is doing now.
Ten thousand talents doesn’t really mean a great deal to us. We know that it’s a huge sum because preachers and commentators have told us so,The disciples hearing this parable for the first time knew well how large a sum it was and they would have been shocked that anybody could have borrowed – or loaned – so large a sum. Then, hearing the rest of the parable they and we, hearing it today, are shocked that somebody could be forgiven so much and their life changed so little. And I think that is the point.
Being forgiven should change us. It should lead us to review our life. It should make us different people.
How can he not be changed? We don’t know, and we cannot begin to imagine, but clearly the first servant is not changed. And if he is not changed it must surely be because he does not feel forgiven.
We can only guess why that might be so. However, we probably do not need to do so. The parable shows us that being forgiven in a way that changes us means that we in turn can be forgiving; if we are not changed we will not be forgiving.
Forgiveness is at the very heart of what makes us Christians Being forgiving is one of the ways in which we become more like Christ – because forgiveness was one of the hallmarks of his ministry, and even as he went to his death on the cross, Father, forgive them. They do not know what they are doing.
Forty years ago I had no idea what to say to Geoffrey – I still wouldn’t. But I do know that sometimes it is very hard to forgive. But I also know that he was closer to doing it than he realised. He wanted to forgive, but it was always a step too far for him; the thing he needed to forgive was too big – but not for God. And sometimes we can only pass it on to God, because he sees into our hearts and heals us by his grace. It is all that remains.
When we cannot forgive all we can do is hand it on to God in prayer. Pray that God will forgive what we cannot – because we know that we should forgive but it is not always easy,
that is how my heavenly Father will deal with you unless you each forgive your brotherand sisterfrom your heart.
Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us
As we ask God to forgive those, that we cannot forgive, who have wronged us we should ask him too to forgive us and give us grace to find forgiveness in our heart.
The text of a sermon preached at the Church of St Nun, Pelyn, Cornwall on Sunday 30th August 2026
The readings were, Exodus 31-15 Romans 129-end Matthew 169-end
Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and suffer grievously at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes and to be put to death and to be raised up on the third day.
On 30th July sixty years ago I was on a scout camp in, if I remember correctly, the New Forest. That day was the date of the World Cup Final which England would go on to win. We had all resigned ourselves to not being able to see it. However, the farmer on whose land we were camping offered to have six of us join him and his family to watch on his television. So, a half dozen of us were chosen and I was one of the lucky ones. There was much excitement as you can imagine. Then …
Then our new assistant scout master stepped forward and said that we were all needed to build a bridge across a stream – the sort of thing that scouts did then when they were camping with ropes and pioneering poles in the 1960s – and so we would not be able to go and watch the match. I never saw England’s only triumph in a World Cup Final.
Imagine our disappointment – especially when we discovered that the stream we were to bridge was about three inches deep and could be easily stepped across.
The bridge was an impressive structure but pride in its construction could not compensate for the disappointment of missing the excitement of England winning the trophy.
I’m over it now but disappointment can cut very deep.
In today’s gospel we come to a key moment in the ministry of Jesus. In the previous few verses Jesus had asked his disciples,
But you, who do you say I am?
It was Simon Peter who answered,
You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.
Jesus doesn’t deny this but praises Simon, and renames him, Peter, the rock, for his openness to what God is saying to the disciples,
Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for flesh and blood has not revealed this to you but my Father in heaven.
Over their time with Jesus the Twelve must surely have talked among themselves about who Jesus was, and what his mission was all about and wondered whether he might be the eagerly anticipated Messiah. It’s only Peter that dares to suggest this to Jesus – but surely it is what they all are thinking.
But now Jesus is dashing their hopes by saying that he will be put to death by the Jewish authorities – not what they would have been expecting from the Messiah.
How disappointed they must have been in that moment. If Jesus is the Messiah he is certainly not the sort of Messiah they were expecting. How can he lead the rebellion against the Roman occupation if he is going to die? How can he be the Messiah if it is the Jewish leaders who will have him done away with?
And as before it is Peter who speaks up,
Heaven preserve you, Lord, this must not happen to you.
Peter simply cannot imagine that Jesus is serious about being put to death rather than leading some sort of uprising.
The disappointment of Peter and the other disciples is palpable. Their whole world is being turned upside down.
This is the first time in the gospel that Jesus predicts his coming death and resurrection. It marks a moment of new beginning for him. The focus of his ministry from here is not so much on the proclamation of the good news or the healing of the sick, but on setting himself towards Jerusalem and preparing for his death – although it will be a death that he knows, what the disciples do not, which will change the world for ever, as it will lead to his triumph over death through the resurrection.
This changes everything, too, for the disciples. They can no longer see themselves as part of a popular movement which will result in the liberation of Israel and the setting up of Jesus as some sort of earthly king.
Jesus is going to Jerusalem to die – they almost certainly won’t have taken in the and raised up on the third day. And we know – because we know what follows – that the Twelve are being prepared now by Jesus for what they must do after the resurrection. It is only when the empty tomb is discovered that they will remember what he has said today about being raised up on the third day.
And then they will be able to begin to make sense of all that is happening as Jesus sets his face towards Jerusalem and his death and resurrection.
At this point in the gospel the disciples feel a deep sense of disappointment – perhaps they’re even feeling that Jesus has tricked them into following him on false pretences. Maybe they feel that they have been let down.
But the response, in this moment, of Jesus to Peter must have shocked them – and perhaps, when they reflected on it, reassured them that Jesus was serious, and that his death was necessary.
Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me, because you are thinking not as God thinks but as humans do.
Today we tend to think of Satan as a sort of name of the devil. In the original Hebrew it is not so much a name as a description. The Satan was the adversary, the opponent, the tempter. It has that meaning here in this context. Peter is being told not to get in the way of what Jesus must do, not to be an obstruction or a blockage. It’s certainly a forceful word but does not quite have the meaning that we usually associate with it.
For Jesus to address Peter, who only a little while ago was called Blessed by Jesus, will certainly have made the disciples stop and think.
The upshot of this exchange makes the disciples realise that such has been their experience of their time spent with Jesus that not one of them walks away from him. They all stay and stick it out to the end. They work through the disappointment, and, although they abandon him at the end, they come back and, filled with the Holy Spirit, spread the good news throughout the whole world.
The disciples will need to rethink what they believe about Jesus and in that process they will come to realise that up until this point their idea of who Jesus is and what his mission is has been TOO SMALL.
He is not a revolutionary leader in a small, but troublesome, Roman province but, as Peter had said, the Messiah, the Son of the living God, and is bringing hope not just to the people of Israel but to the world.
Jesus does bring a revolution but it is one that will turn the whole world upside down.
But, of course, the question which we have to ask ourselves is, are our perceptions of Jesus too smalland our understanding of what we are called to be and to do too limited? Are we doing what Peter was doing when he responded, Heaven preserve you, Lord, this must not happen to you? Are we being an obstruction, a blockage, an adversary to Jesus.
It may be, indeed I think it probably is, the case that our vision of what we are called to be as disciples of Christ is not wide enough. It’s too limited.
I’m sure that we, as Christians here in Pelynt, ponder often how we can grow the churches here; how can we thrive as St Nun’s or as Pelynt Methodist Church? How do we get young people in? How do we reach out to our community?
They’re not unimportant or insignificant aims but surely the real question is, How do we proclaim Jesus Christ as Messiah and Son of the living God?
Because that is the big truth that has been revealed to us, and that is the truth we must share.
That is what the disciples were called to do after the death and resurrection of Jesus – and it is still what we are called to do today? It’s about seeing the big picture, having a big vision.
It’s not about making our little churches thrive, but about proclaiming Jesus as Messiah and Son of the living God to the world.
This is the text of a sermon preached at St Nun’s Church, Pelynt, Cornwall.
These were the set readings, Genesis 371-4, 12-28 Romans 105-15 Matthew 1422-33
Courage! It’s me! Don’t be afraid.
These are words from today’s gospel reading. They are the words that Jesus says to his disciples when they are terrified by the sight of him walking across the water towards them. Well, you would be – there’s a storm raging and there is a figure they take to be a ghost walking across the water towards them. It would be a brave person indeed who would have no fear in a situation such as this.
It would, no doubt, have been terrifying enough just to be in a small boat in the storm, especially at night, shortly before dawn – the darkest part of the night – and then to see a ghostly figure, which they are unable to make out clearly. Is it a rock, is it a sea monster, are their eyes deceiving them? Of course they’re terrified.
And so, Jesus’ first action is to reassure them, Courage! It’s me! Don’t be afraid.
But let’s roll back the story a little. Jesus, hearing of John the Baptist’s death has sought a little quiet and sailed, with his disciples, to the other side of the lake. The crowd catch up with him and he heals their sick and, towards the evening feeds them miraculously with the five loaves and two fish. Consequently he still needs that time of quiet and, having fed them, he sends the crowds away and instructs the disciples to get into the boat and return to the other side of the lake. Jesus now finds his quiet time and goes up into the hills to pray. At last alone. With God the Father.
Jesus often does this in the gospels – he goes away alone, often at night, to pray. These times of prayer often happen at significant moments in his ministry – at the outset in the wilderness following his baptism; when he chooses his disciples; at the Transfiguration; in the garden of Gethsemane. He walks constantly with God but also has these special moments with his Father – and this is one of those moments. And we’ll see why in a minute.
Back to the lake. Jesus comes down from the hills and, as dawn approaches, walks across the water towards the boat. Having been reassured by Jesus, Peter answers,
Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you across the water.
Jesus calls him, Come! And Peter steps out of the boat and walks across the water – until he thinks about what he’s doing and the risk he is running. Then he starts to sink and cries out to Jesus,
Lord, save me!
Jesus stretches out his hand to him and holds him up, saying,
You have so little faith; why did you doubt?
When, together, they climb into the boat the storm subsides. The disciples worship him and say,
Truly, you are Son of God.
Let’s unpack all this a little bit. There’s such a lot here; so much that we won’t see all of it today.
The first thing to say is that this is not a story of the ordinary, everyday experience of Jesus and his disciples. Something remarkable is happening here. Clearly, we’re meant to take notice and reflect carefully on this event.
We’re so familiar with the story of Jesus walking on the water that the sheer strangeness of it tends to pass us by a bit. But for a moment let it sink in. Jesus actually walks on the surface of the water – in a storm!
Perhaps this is telling us that Jesus has control of creation. This must surely be happening so that his disciples – and we – see Jesus in a new light. Not just a great prophet or religious teacher. Not a healer and miracle worker. He has control over creation. Remember how John speaks at the beginning of his gospel of the Word through whom not one thing came into being except through him. Does this open up for them – and for us – the idea of Jesus as Lord of all Creation?
Then when Jesus says, It’s me. Our translations don’t catch the full meaning. The Greek text is εγω ειμι and simply means I am, the words that John uses in the I am sayings in his gospel, all related to his divine nature – I am the bread of life; I am the true vine; I am the good the shepherd and so on.
But it is also reminiscent of the name that God gives to Moses when he reveals himself in the burning bush I am who I am; say, I am sent you.
Again perhaps we are to think that Jesus is more than preacher, or healer, or prophet.
And now when Peter, himself walking on water, starts to sink he calls out Lord, save me! Appropriate to the moment, of course, but a cry that echoes down the ages in mouths of penitents calling on Christ Jesus to forgive and save.
When Jesus asks Peter why he doubted does he mean self-doubt or does he mean doubt in Jesus to enable Peter to walk on water? I honestly don’t know, and what I am about to say might be completely wrong.
But I think Jesus is asking whether Peter really believes that with Jesus he – Peter – can do anything. It’s not about what Jesus can do in Peter, but what Peter can do in Jesus. They sound very similar but there’s a world of difference.
And, as they climb into the boat, the storm abates. And then the most remarkable thing of all happens.
“The men in the boat worshipped him and said, “Truly, you are the Son of God”
Jesus is given this title on only one other occasion in the gospel – by the centurion at the foot of the cross as Jesus dies.
Of course, that Jesus is the Son of God is not news to us. We know that; it is at the very heart of all that we believe about him. But it is that last verse that allows us to make complete sense of this whole story. All of this can only happen because Jesus is the Son of God.
It is the first – and only – time in the gospel that the disciples acclaim Jesus as such, and all the more significant for that.
So, this story, so familiar to us, tells of a God, who became human and lived among us. He had control over creation; he reassures his disciples because, in his words, I am; with him his disciples can do anything, even walk on water – until they doubt; when they call on him to save them, he does just that; in the moment of these events they disciples see him as God and worship him.
In this story Jesus reveals himself to his closest associates – the Twelve – as he never has before, and will not again until his resurrection. For those disciples it’s a crucial moment in their growing understanding of who Jesus is. They’ve heard his teaching; they’ve witnessed his healings; they’ve seen the miracles. But this is on a new level and draws a striking response from them.
But this story is recorded here for us. How do we respond to the story of Jesus walking on water? Does he reveal himself to us as the Son of God? Is he the one that we turn to be saved? Do we believe that we can do anything with him, or are we too full of doubt?
These are questions that only can answer for ourselves but we have seen how other lives have been touched and renewed before us – and perhaps we, in our turn, have touched other lives again. Have we come in our lives to that moment where we have worshipped him and said, “Truly, you are the Son of God”
The East Window in St Bartholomew’s Church, Warleggan, Cornwall
This is the text of a sermon preached at St Bartholomew, Warleggan and at St Neot, Cornwall on Sunday 2nd August 2026.
The set readings were, Genesis 3222-31 Romans 91-5 Matthew 1413-21
When I was in my early teenage years, growing up in Bristol, I would often stop off on my way home from school to pop into the County Ground and watch Gloucestershire cricket matches. Around the time I got there, just as they were breaking for tea, admission was free.
Behind and above the ground were the buildings, huge and grey with slate roofs, of the City College. But these buildings had had an earlier life as the Muller orphanages.
George Muller, and his wife, Mary, started caring for orphans in Bristol in 1836, looking after 30 girls in their own home. By 1845 they needed larger premises and started building their orphanages on Ashley Down. As he added more buildings by 1870 they were caring for 1 722 children. A year later that number had increased to over 2000.
The truly remarkable thing about his story, and the growth of his orphanages, is that he never once asked for money, or food or donations of any sort. He prayed and put his trust in God to provide. And, although there were anxious moments, something always turned up.
Now to today’s gospel reading.
John the Baptist has been beheaded and, hearing the news, Jesus seeks to go off to be alone. It’s easy to understand why.
John’s message was a dangerous one. He was openly critical of power, influence and wealth. He made enemies of the very people who could do him harm. The role of prophet has always carried a heavy price – think, among others, of Elijah or Jeremiah.
Jesus is a very different personality to John, but his message is similarly challenging to the rich and powerful. Jesus must know that he runs the same risk and, as well as mourning John’s death, perhaps he needs a little personal space, a little me time, to get his head around what has happened to John and what will very likely also happen to him. We know how his story leads him to his passion and death, and it will not be long, in Matthew’s gospel, before Jesus begins to prepare his disciples for his approaching passion.
But so well known now is Jesus that wherever he goes the crowds follow, and they’re ready for him when he reaches the shore. They’ve got there ahead of him. There is no quiet to be found.
But Jesus is not dismayed. The crowd have followed him and his response is not, as ours would probably be, to try and avoid them, perhaps to vent our anger at being denied those quiet few moments which we so desperately need. No, Jesus responds by taking pity on them and healing their sick.
He shows them compassion, even though he may be as much in need of compassion as they are – there was a reason why he had retreated in the boat to the other side of the lake.
But this is an example of the way that Jesus continually reveals the kingdom for us. He spoke the beatitudes on the mount and now he lives out their implication in many practical situations modelling the mindset necessary to making the kingdom real in the world. He does this time and again in these chapters which follow the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew’s gospel.
Jesus is never a teacher who says, Do what I say, not what I do. He tells us how we should act, but also shows us clearly through his own actions.
And then, what follows is entirely in keeping with what has just happened – Jesus, feeling compassion for them, feeds the crowd.
Evening is coming and as it approaches the disciples of Jesus make an entirely appropriate suggestion, send the people away, and they can go to the villages to buy themselves some food.
That, though, is the world’s solution to what is, admittedly, an easily solved problem. But Jesus needs his disciples to understand the ways of the kingdom. People who need feeding need to be fed, There is no need for them to go; give them something to eat yourselves, he replies. Jesus shows the same compassion towards the hunger of the crowd as he had earlier shown to the needs of the sick for healing.
The story now is so familiar. Over the five loaves and two fish that the disciples have Jesus says the blessing. He breaks the loaves and the disciples share them with the people. When they have eaten their fill the disciples gather up twelve baskets full of the scraps that are left over.
On one level this is a small thing that Jesus has done. He has not solved world hunger. The problem he has solved is a small one indeed. The people are not starving, they’ve just not eaten for a while. They all have their own solution to their need for food. They could return home; they could go to a nearby village and buy food. They could even manage without food for a while longer.
On another level, though, what Jesus does here is truly remarkable.
But the temptation for us is to start asking the wrong question. We immediately want to ask, How did he do that? We’re modern people; we need there to be a rational explanation for what has happened here. But all we can do is speculate. We can never come up with a satisfactory answer – because there isn’t one; or, at least, not one we can find.
All we’re left with is to look at what has happened, and not try to second guess how it happened,
The crowd have followed Jesus.
The disciples have said these people need food.
Jesus says, Let’s feed them then, and see what happens.
And, sharing the food, little though it is, everybody is fed.
How? I’ve no idea, but miraculously everyone at that lakeside was satisfied.
Remember George Muller who I mentioned earlier? He saw a problem – too many orphans without proper care. He decided that his Christian faith, and the kingdom, demanded that he address the problem, which he did, initially by opening his home, and then by building large orphanages. He did what the kingdom of God demanded and trusted that his work would be blessed by God. And indeed it was. Many of the citizens of Bristol supported his work and he never needed to seek help – it just turned up when it was needed.
What Jesus does here is exactly similar. He sees a problem, acts to address it because that is what the kingdom of God requires and God blesses his action. As many as perhaps 10 000 people are fed. The kingdom of God is made real on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, just as it was in Bristol 150 years ago.
It is very tempting for us, being the people we are, when we are faced with a problem to spend a lot of time assessing and planning and making a list of things we need to do before we can even start to address the problem. And often these are the right things to do.
But sometimes it would be best if we just got on with sorting things out.
Mrs Jones at number 24 has broken her leg. Can we fetch anything from the shop?
Fiona’s car has broken down. Can we drop the children off at school/cubs/football?
We can make the kingdom real in all sorts of ways – and wait for God to bless our actions in ways we can hardly begin to imagine.
You get the idea. But sometimes we do need to plan and prepare for things we do, but committing, really committing, is always good at the start if it is something that will make the kingdom real.
Sometimes we can let our anxiety, or fear of failure get in the way of doing the things that make the kingdom real for people in our world today.
We need to learn from Jesus and go for it! and just see where it takes us when God blesses our work – as he does when we are making his kingdom real.
This is the text of a sermon preached at the churches of St Bartholomew, Warleggan and St Neot, Cornwall for the Fifth Sunday after Trinity, July 5th 2026.
The set readings were, Gen 2434-38, 42-49, 58-67 Romans 715-25a Matthew1116-19, 25-end
There’s just no pleasing some people. You know who I mean. Nothing you suggest is ever good enough. Nothing you do is ever what they want. When you ask them what they want to do they say, “Oh, I don’t mind, you choose.” And then, when you take them to the museum they come over all bored and grumpy because they would much rather have gone to a nice garden.
Children, of course, can be like this. And Jesus uses children as an example, not of how annoying children can be. You expect children to be like that. But Jesus makes it clear that he’s talking about how impossible the Pharisees and scribes are to please,
What comparison can I find for this generation? It is like children shouting to each other as they sit in the market place: We played the pipes for you, and you wouldn’t dance; we sang dirges, and you wouldn’t be mourners.
Some children want to play one game, others a different one. They gently mock each other because they can’t agree whether to play weddings or funerals (not games I remember as being particularly appealing) but a squabble has developed over what game to play.
Then Jesus spells it out for the listening crowd,
For John came, neither eating nor drinking, and they say, “He is possessed.” The Son of man came, eating and drinking, and they say, “Look, a glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners.” Yet wisdom is justified by her deeds.
John and Jesus bring essentially similar messages but the people who most need to hear that message will not listen and hear what they have to say. John, they say, is too ascetic – a bit of a weirdo, no fun at all, and miserable with it. But Jesus is the exact opposite – a real party animal – and look at him, eating and drinking as if there were no tomorrow. John is too serious – and Jesus, not serious enough. I guess if they’d been somewhere in the middle they’d have been neither one thing nor the other.
But, suggests Jesus, they’re looking at the wrong things. They’re missing the message by being too concerned about the messenger. And in a section omitted from today’s gospel reading Jesus tells them that if the message that both John and Jesus are delivering had been preached in Sodom, and he goes on to list some other, equally sinful, places, they would have repented.
But the good news that Jesus brings is not for the learned and clever; it is for little children. It is for the simple and those who respond with eager faith, those who hear with fresh ears, who are open to what is new and different and exciting – and even, perhaps especially, to what is truly radical.
In Matthew’s gospel Jesus’ first piece of teaching is the great instruction we know as the Sermon on the Mount which begins with the Beatitudes, the blessings on those who are sidelined by the world but who populate the kingdom of Heaven,
How blessed are the poor in spirit… Blessed are the gentle… Blessed are those who mourn… Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for uprightness… Blessed are the merciful… Blessed are the pure in heart… Blessed are the peacemakers… Blessed are those who are persecuted in the cause of uprightness…
These are the first words of teaching from Jesus in Matthew’s gospel. And it feels like this is his manifesto for all that he has to say and do in his ministry on earth. These are the words that will help us to make sense of it all. But they are also words that should set our agenda for how we speak to and serve the world. Words that teach us how we can be growing his kingdom, here and now.
And that is never more true than here as Jesus says,
I bless you, Father, Lord of heaven and of earth, for hiding these things from the learned and the clever and revealing them to little children.
This message, this good news of Jesus – and of John – is entrusted, not to the powerful, or those in authority, or the wealthy, or the clever – they would only mess it up, turn it to their advantage, use it, as they always have to oppress the poor, the weak and the powerless, and to enrich themselves. But the message of Jesus is entrusted to little children or to those who will receive it like a child.
The children, the weak, the simple, the oppressed, the outcasts get what Jesus is saying while the clever and powerful, the wealthy and the influential entirely miss the point. They simply don’t get it. It’s as if Jesus is speaking in an impenetrable foreign language. It makes no sense to them.
The gospel for Jesus is not about what we believe. Jesus wants us to understand that it is what we believe that affects the people that we are. Nothing reveals what our beliefs are more clearly than the way we act towards others.
Do you remember those Beatitudes I spoke of earlier? They are all about turning the world upside down.
The poor in spirit will be invited into the kingdom of Heaven; the gentle shall own the earth; the mourners will find comfort; the victims of injustice will receive justice; the merciful will experience mercy; the pure in heart will see God; peacemakers are the children of God; those who are persecuted will inhabit the kingdom.
All those who are oppressed or weighed down by burdens will find those burdens lifted and be truly blessed.
Our gospel today ends with well known, and loved, words; the Comfortable Words of Jesus,
Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.
This is essentially the same promise that Jesus made in the Beatitudes. Burdens will be lifted, loads shared, rest and peace for all who have never known it before.
The good news that Jesus proclaims is never about what we believe, but about how we behave, how we act, what we do. Because what we do reveals, and shapes, what we believe.
The question we need to ask ourselves is not, Do I believe the words of the creed? Nor is it, Should I read the bible to find out what to believe?
The question we need always to ask ourselves is, Am I easing burdens? Am I sharing loads? Am I sensitive to others needs? Am I concerned for justice? Do I stand up for the oppressed, rejected and outcasts?
Perhaps so that we never lose sight of what is truly important we should stick a copy of the Beatitudes and the Comfortable Words on our fridge doors, or by our coat hooks to remind us that what Jesus wants of us is that we ease burdens, carry loads and turn the world upside down – to live out what we believe and to make a difference in the world.
Come to me, all you who labour and are overburdened, and I will give you rest. Shoulder my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. Yes, my yoke is easy and my burden light.
This is the text of a sermon preached at the Church of St Neot, Cornwall.
The readings were, Genesis 181-5, (211-7) Romans 51-8 Matthew 935-108, (9-23)
Proclaim that the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand. Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those suffering from virulent skin-diseases, drive out devils.
In last week’s gospel (the call of Matthew the tax collector, the raising of the official’s dead daughter and the healing of the woman who had suffered from a haemorrhage for twelve years) Jesus showed us what the kingdom of Heaven is like and modelled for us what it is to be citizen of that kingdom.
That may not be exactly what Ian told you last week, but I’m sure that if you unpack it a bit you’ll find that is, more or less, what he was saying.
Following on from that today’s gospel has Jesus sending his disciples, the Twelve, out to make the kingdom real for a whole range of people – the sick, the dead, the lepers, the possessed.
They are sent to transform lives; the lives of the people who need it most – the weak, the vulnerable, those in need, the lost, the lonely.
Where the kingdom of Heaven is to be found these are the things that you will see.
It would be overstating it to suggest that Jesus doesn’t say anything about what we should believe about God. But he certainly does say a lot more about the people that we should aspire to become and the things that we should be doing.
Even something like the Sermon on the Mount (one of the most significant passages of teaching of Jesus) is not very much about God, in the sense of telling us what God is like. It’s much more about how we should live our lives and how our faith in God means living in ways that make a difference in the world.
In the Beatitudes he calls blessed the poor in spirit, the gentle, the mourners, those who long for righteousness, the pure in heart, the peacemakers, those who suffer for righteousness’ sake.
He calls us to be salt for the earth and light for the world.
He sets a higher standard for us, turning the other cheek, offering the shirt off our back, love enemies.
And so on.
And now we see the outcome of all this. This new order that Jesus institutes requires us to act.
Just as the disciples are sent out, not to tell people what God is like but to transform lives by curing the sick, raising the dead, cleansing the disfigured, driving out demons.
They are to tell them that the kingdom of Heaven is close at hand. But then it’s a question of showing them what it looks like – the sick are cured, the dead raised, the possessed released, making it real.
Throughout Christian history the Church has served God best by making a difference for those who are marginalised by society, or afflicted by sickness or disease, disadvantaged by poverty, ignorance, oppression or prejudice.
I know that last week Ian spoke about how we can be making a difference in our society by supporting organisations such as St Petroc’s, working with the homeless, our local foodbank and baby basics. And I make no apology for mentioning them again.
And there is much more that we can be doing. Many other charities and organisations that we can support. Many organisations that we can volunteer to work for, both locally and globally.
And it may be that you notice gaps in local provision that you might be able to fill – supporting children and young people, visiting the housebound and elderly, being a listening ear to the bereaved, or a friendly face to the lonely or isolated.
All of these are exactly the sorts of things that Jesus is telling us are signs of the presence of the kingdom. Lots of small things that can make a big difference to our community and our world.
Heaven may be what awaits us after this life ends, but Jesus constantly reminds us that the kingdom of Heaven begins here and now – in the difference we make to the needy, the vulnerable, the powerless and the oppressed.
Perhaps, if we’re not making a difference here, in this life, our place in Heaven, in the next might be less assured than we hope.
The Church of St Tallanus, Talland, Coprnwall from the South East
The text of a sermon preached on the First Sunday after Trinity, June 7th, 2026, at the Church of St Tallanus, Talland, Cornwall.
The readings were, Genesis 121-9 Romans 413-end Matthew 99-13, 18-26
Many of Jesus’ parables begin with words such as, the kingdom of heaven is like …, or, with what shall I compare the kingdom of God?
But Jesus doesn’t just tell us what the kingdom of heaven is like – he shows us.
By the way he lives, by the things he does, by the things he says, by the way he treats other people, Jesus consistently shows us what the kingdom is like.
But he does this not simply to show us or tell us what it’s like – but to model the way in which we too can make it real – in our own lives and in the communities in which we live as we emulate his actions and attitudes in our own society..
This morning’s Gospel reading is one such example – or perhaps even two or three!
He doesn’t mention the kingdom of God here at all – he lives it out; he makes it real; he invites people into the kingdom by transforming their lives.
But not only that but shows us that the kingdom is for all, regardless of their background.
The kingdom is not about who we are, but who we can become.
In this morning’s short except from Matthew’s gospel there are no parables and only one brief piece of teaching from Jesus – but it is packed with things for us to learn about God’s kingdom.
It begins as Jesus, walking past the tax office, spots Matthew and invites the tax collector to Follow me. Matthew immediately rises and follows Jesus.
Does Jesus already know Matthew? Have they talked before? Has Matthew seemed like a possible disciple? We don’t know. But the short story that follows tells a lot about the kingdom – and who is called to be a part of it.
Jesus, at table with tax collectors and sinners, is criticised by the Pharisees, Why does you master eat with tax collectors and sinners?
Jesus’ reply is very telling. Not only does it put his critics in their place, but it also provides us with plenty to think about. He could have introduced what he said to the Pharisees with the words, In the kingdom of God …, because that is what he describes,
It is not the healthy who need the doctor, but the sick. Go and learn the meaning of the words: Mercy is what pleases me, not sacrifice. And indeed I came to call not the upright, but sinners.
Clearly, the Pharisees need to learn that lesson, but so do we who aspire to be citizens of the kingdom of God. These are words which remind us of the need to understand that no one, in particular sinners, are beyond the love and mercy of God. Indeed the sinners are the people who have the most need of God and his mercy.
Jesus is so clear, it is not the healthy, but the sick; mercy, not sacrifice; I came to call not the upright, but sinners.
These words are surely as much for his disciples as they are for the Pharisees, and therefore, for us.
The next part of our reading this morning features two acts of healing. The one of the official’s daughter, the other of the woman with the haemorrhage.
They come form very different backgrounds. The official’s daughter has status in her community. Her father holds an important office; her life is, no doubt, comfortable and her death is mourned by the crowd and the musicians gathered at the official’s home.
By contrast the woman has suffered for many years. She has, because of her condition, been an outcast in society. She is almost certainly poor and has probably been reliant on the generosity of others. She has not been able to attend synagogue worship for twelve years because her haemorrhage renders her unclean. She is even taking a risk just being part of the crowd around Jesus; and risks everything by daring to touch Jesus. According to the Law he should avoid her and she him.
Jesus asks no questions, does not try, in any way, to establish whether these people are worthy of his healing, life-giving authority.
The official comes up to him, saying,
My daughter has just died, but come and lay your hand on her and her life will be saved.
There is no hesitation. Jesus doesn’t check with the locals that the official is worthy, or that the daughter is deserving. Immediately Jesus rose, and with his disciples, followed him.
When the woman comes up behind him and touches his cloak, he turns to her. There is no, What do you think you are doing? At once, Jesus recognising her need says to her,
Courage, my daughter, your faith has saved you.
At the official’s home Jesus enters at once, after rebuking the crowd and sending them away, goes inside and takes the girl’s hand and she revives and stands up.
Jesus is unconcerned about status, wealth, rank or worthiness; only by need.
The tax collector, the official’s daughter, the woman with the haemorrhage. He asks no questions, does no checking, does not criticise or rebuke, requires no profession of faith; he simply responds to their need.
I started by saying that Jesus models for us what the kingdom of God is like. And here that is what he has done.
In his dealings with these three individuals he has shown, by the way he responds to them, and their needs, what the kingdom of God is like.
It is inclusive, nobody is rejected or turned away.
It offers forgiveness, mercy and acceptance, not judgement, criticism or shunning.
It offers healing and renewal.
It is life-giving and affirming.
Time and again throughout the gospels these are the attitudes that Jesus models for us.
As individual Christians, as a Church, at our best we share those attitudes.
But too often we can be judgemental, exclusive, uncaring, indifferent.
Jesus is consistent in the way he reveals the kingdom. He reveals it to be inclusive, merciful, healing and life-giving.
That is an example for us. But it is also a challenge. And a challenge we dare not ignore, because for us to act otherwise is to reject the values of God’s kingdom.
The text of a sermon preached at St Neot, Cornwall on the Fest of Pentecost, May 24th 2026.
The set readings were, Acts 21-21 1 Corinthians 123b-13 John 2019-23
The late John Taylor, a former Bishop of Winchester, in his book, The Go-Between God, wrote,
It is the function of the Holy Spirit to bring Jesus ceaselessly to our remembrance so that we may live and make all our choices in reference to him. The Spirit-filled life is the Christ-centred life.
How do you experience the Holy Spirit?
How did the first disciples experience the Holy Spirit?
…suddenly there came from heaven a sound as of a violent wind which filled the entire house in which they were sitting; and there appeared to them tongues as of fire; these separated and came to rest on the head of each of them. (Acts 22-3)
After saying this he breathed on them and said: Receive the Holy Spirit. (John 2022)
John, in his gospel, and Luke, in the Acts of the Apostles, have very different accounts of how the first disciples experienced the gift of the Holy Spirit.
The accounts are so different that it appears that they can hardly be describing the same phenomenon.
Are they two separate events?
I’m not going to attempt to answer that question now, because I don’t think that it very much matters for us this morning. It is enough to say that the first Christians had a powerful experience of what it meant for them to have received the Holy Spirit. It fulfilled the promise of Jesus that God would give you another Paraclete [or Advocate] to be with you for ever, the Spirit of truth, as we heard in the gospel of John two weeks ago; and it empowered their mission as they proclaimed the gospel and grew the early Church.
But it was more than this. The Holy Spirit in their lives renewed their relationship with God, helped them realise more fully what difference Jesus had made in their lives and in the world. She deepened their faith and reassured them on their pilgrimage through life towards union with God.
John recorded the experience of the giving of the Spirit in one way and Luke in another. The Holy Spirit will not be limited by our expectations of how she will come to us.
Wind; Fire; Breath; Power; Tongues; Stillness; Terror; Beauty; Energy; Quiet; Noise; Unsettling; Calming. But always drawing us to focus on Jesus – who he is, what he has done – and is still doing; and, most importantly, how we make sense of what his coming means for us. Making us pay attention to what is truly important – what God has done and is doing in Jesus.
Let’s think about each of these two accounts and see what they might teach us about what the Spirit’s coming means to us.
John’s account takes place on the evening of the day of the resurrection. The disciples have heard about – and seen – the empty tomb. They’ve heard what the women – so far the only witnesses of the risen Lord – have had to say, and they’re unsure what to make of it all.
The disciples are locked away in the upper room, where they had shared a final supper with Jesus. They have seen him die on the cross in a grotesque and brutal form of execution and fear that a similar fate may now await them. They’ve heard that Jesus has risen, but they are unready to believe it.
Then Jesus appears, greets them with a blessing of peace – shalom – as he surely has many times before and breathes on them – Receive the Holy Spirit.
This is the moment when everything changes for them. There can now be no going back as things were before.
Luke’s account could hardly be more different.
Fifty days after the resurrection the disciples are gathered together, still in the upper room (where they seem to have spent the whole time since they witnessed Jesus’ ascension a few days earlier), there comes a violent wind – the very antithesis of Jesus’ greeting of peace. Shalom! But that’s not all. After the wind come tongues of fire settling on each of them, compelling them to give utterance to words, not from themselves but from that same Spirit.
Although Luke’s narrative doesn’t say this we must assume by the context of the story that the disciples rushed out of the room where they were gathered – driven by fear, or by a new found enthusiasm? It’s hard to be sure.
But, notice now that the first thing that the disciples do in both accounts of the gift of the Holy Spirit.
In John they proclaim Jesus to Thomas when he returns, We have seen the Lord.
In Acts they rush out into the city and immediately speak to the crowds, who hear them preaching … about the marvels of God.
In both cases they seem to be reassuring their listeners – and perhaps themselves – that the crucifixion was not the end. They talk about Jesus.
They’re not thinking any longer about Jesus’ death, but about his life – the life he shared with them – the things he taught them; the things he did and they did together.
This is the proclamation of the gospel – Christ has died; Christ is risen; Christ will come again!
But it’s also a reminder of who Jesus was; what Jesus did; how Jesus changed everything. What might have been a time of introspection – of thinking about what could have been – has become a moment for going out and telling the world that God, in Christ, is doing something entirely new.
Newness is something of a theme in Jesus’ life and the life of the early Church.
New life, new wine, a new commandment, a new creation, the new Jerusalem.
These are the things that the Holy Spirit has revealed about what Jesus has done, constantly reminding those first disciples – and us – that all of this was achieved only in Jesus.
This is what the early Christians knew and what they proclaimed – in the gospels; in the Acts of the Apostles; in the letters of Paul, Peter, James, John and Jude; in the letter to the Hebrews and in the book of Revelation. It’s all about Jesus; all the result of the Holy Spirit keeping his memory alive in his disciples.. This is what they proclaimed in the synagogues, towns and cities of the Roman Empire and beyond. Inspired by the Spirit they talked, preached, wrote about Jesus and how he had transformed their lives and made them new.
And Christians have done the same ever since. In every generation, prompted always by the Spirit, they have talked about Jesus, remembered the things he said and did and from those memories have shaped their proclamation.
And our own time is no different. The Holy Spirit still leads us to remember Jesus and to talk about him – to each other and to the world.
This is the reason that the Holy Spirit has been given to us – so that we do not forget who Jesus is and why he is important. So that we can talk about Jesus in order that Christ is at the centre of all that we do.
As Jesus said to his disciples at his last supper,
when the Spirit of truth comes he will lead you to the complete truth, since he will not be speaking of his own accord, but will say only what he has been told; and he will reveal to you the things to come. He will glorify me, since all he reveals to you will be taken from what is mine.
The Holy Spirit constantly reminds us about Jesus and gives us words to proclaim him to the world.
The interior of St Melor’s Church, Linkinhorne, Cornwall
The text of a sermon preached at St Melor’s Church, Linkinhorne on the Sixth Sunday of Easter, 10th May 2026.
The readings were, Acts 1722-31 1 Peter 313-end John 1415-21
During these weeks of Easter at Morning Prayer we have been invited to read the story of the Exodus – that great formative experience for the people of Israel as they journey from slavery in Egypt towards their settling in the Promised Land.
During that whole journey God has travelled with them – a cloud leading them by day and a fire by night. Moses has spoken often with the Lord and has received the Law by which the Israelites will live for generations.
Their story is a story of a pilgrimage on which they embark, not only to find God but with him. He walks alongside all the way through the forty years during which they become more fully God’s people.
God has walked alongside them and will remain with them always.
Words from today’s gospel,
I shall ask the Father, and he will give you another Paraclete to be with you for ever,
Our attention begins to turn now towards the sending of the Holy Spirit as we approach Ascension Day and Pentecost, or Whit Sunday.
Here in today’s gospel reading, at his last supper, Jesus promises his disciples that God the Father will send another Paraclete (or in the translation we heard read this morning the Advocate or in the Authorised Version the Comforter).
The word paraclete comes from the Greek παρακλητος and means something like called to be alongside. In a legal context it had a sense of an advocate or someone who represents you in a court. It also carries a sense of one who comforts or consoles.
Jesus is preparing his disciples for what they should expect after his death and resurrection. It is inevitable that he must return to the Father, and so will no longer be with them as he has been for the three years of his ministry around first Galilee and later Judaea.
But he reassures them that they will not be left alone. Jesus promises his disciples four times that he will send the Holy Spirit – all of them in John’s gospel – and he uses the word Paraclete of the Spirit when he does so.
Jesus is not silent on the Holy Spirit in the other gospels. In all of them he tells his disciples that the Holy Spirit will be with them and that by the Holy Spirit they will be given the words to speak when they are persecuted and put on trial for their faith. They need not worry about what to say because the Spirit will speak in them.
Let’s think for a moment about the ways in which Jesus has been with his disciples, rather than with the crowds, or the scribes and Pharisees – both through his ministry and after the resurrection.
Jesus’ ministry was an itinerant one. He travelled from town to town. There he spoke in the synagogues, to crowds on the mountain, or on the lake.
But with his disciples he walks and talks with them. It is both companionship and dialogue; but it is also a time for him to teach them about who he is and what he is called to achieve. Together they walk the roads between places and discuss who Jesus is – and who they are in relation to him; how God is using Jesus to change the world and what their role will be in that mission.
When he calls them to follow him he walks up to them and invites them to follow him – to walk with him. They are criticised by the Pharisees for plucking the wheat as they walk and eating it without washing. Jesus takes Peter, James and John aside and leads them up the mountain where he is transfigured. Jesus comes alongside them in the boat when he walks on the water.
There are many events and moments that take place when they walk together, when they rest together – when Jesus is alongside them, away from the crowds.
And following his resurrection Jesus always comes up to his disciples and comes alongside them – Mary at the empty tomb; the disciples in the upper room; Thomas in the upper room; the disciples on the road to Emmaus; the disciples at the sea of Galilee.
Much of the experience of being one of Jesus’ disciples, and all of the most significant moments, happen when Jesus is alongside them. For them Jesus has been the one who comes alongside them – a Paraclete – the one who is beside them.
And now, here, at his last supper with his disciples he is alongside them again and he promises them another Paraclete.
Jesus has been the Paraclete for them for three years, now the Paraclete, fulfilling the same purpose for them will be the Holy Spirit – teaching, guiding, strengthening, comforting, counselling, leading, inspiring – just as Jesus has been doing with them for the last three years.
All the things that Jesus has done for his disciples during these three years will now be done by the Holy Spirit. In a sense nothing is changing – except that Jesus will not be physically with them.
There is a real sense of continuity in all of this.
God is a God who walks with his people and accompanies them on their journey giving them the Law.
Jesus walks alongside his disciples and reveals what he will achieve for them on the cross and in his resurrection.
The Holy Spirit is alongside us to guide, strengthen and renew us as we journey though our journey of faith always walking alongside us – making it for us a lifelong pilgrimage in which we deepen our relationship with the God who walks with us every step of the Way.
The East Window in St Bartholomew’s Church, Warleggan, Cornwall
The text of a sermon preached at St Bartholomew’s Church, Warleggan, Cornwall on Sunday 15th March 2026
the readings were 1 Samuel 161-13 Ephesians 58-14 John 91-41
You were darkness once, but now you are light in the Lord; behave as children of light, for the effects of the light are seen in complete goodness and uprightness and truth.
These are the opening words from the verses of Ephesians read as this morning’s New Testament reading. They are all about light – and in particular about the light in which we live as Christians as a result of our having been baptised.
Paul, here, is reminding the Ephesian Christians to whom he is writing how much their lives have been transformed by their faith in Christ. It is like the difference between darkness and light. Not just walking out of darkness into light, but actually becoming light. They are not in the light, but they themselves are light.
And now, having become light, they are called to show up the works of darkness for what they are. Having themselves been transformed they are to transform the world around them.
In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus proclaims himself to be the light of the world.
I am the light of the world is one of the seven I am sayings in John’s gospel – I am the bread of life; I am the light of the world; I am the door; I am the Good Shepherd; I am the resurrection and the life; I am the way, the truth and the life; I am the vine.
Each of them reveals something important about who Jesus is and what his ministry is to achieve. They all appear in John’s gospel and on every occasion John seems to be saying to us, Pay close attention to this bit – it’s really important!
Jesus sees the man, a man who was born blind, not, he says, because either he or his parents sinned but so that the works of God might be revealed in him.
And immediately, before anything else happens he says,
As long as I am in the world I am the light of the world.
The placement of this saying here seems to suggest that we need to interpret all that follows with the knowledge that Jesus is the light of the world, and to expect that this blind man will find his world filled with the light which Jesus brings..
John’s accounts of the events of Jesus’ ministry can be quite lengthy and complex. But this is how the story develops.
Jesus makes a paste, daubs it on the man’s eyes and tells him to wash in the pool, which he does and is now able to see.
His neighbours find it hard to believe that this is the same man who was blind. How can such a thing happen? He reassures them that it is he and that the man Jesus healed him.
The Pharisees interrogate the man, he tells them what Jesus did and how he received his sight. They debate among themselves whether Jesus can possibly be from God. How can he be? He breaks the Sabbath. The man tells them that Jesus could do this because he is a prophet.
His parents are questioned, How is it that your son can now see? – but they dodge the question by telling the questioners to ask their son, he can speak for himself.
So they do. They say Jesus is a sinner. The man responds with a remarkable profession of faith,
Whether he is a sinner I don’t know; all I know is that I was blind and now I can see.’
When they say that they don’t know where Jesus is from, he replies,
That is just what is so amazing! You don’t know where he comes from and he has opened my eyes! We know that God doesn’t listen to sinners, but God does listen to people who are devout and do his will. Ever since the world began it is unheard of for anyone to open the eyes of someone born blind; if this man were not from God, he wouldn’t have been able to do anything.
When he meets Jesus again Jesus asks him whether he believes in the Son of man. When Jesus tells him that it he, who has given him his sight, who is the Son of man he responds,
‘Lord, I believe,’ and worshipped him.
Notice how the man has come to confess Jesus – from the man Jesus, who opened his eyes at the beginning of the story, to a prophet, when the Pharisees ask him who he thinks that Jesus is, to a man from God, when he is challenged to agree with the Pharisees’ assessment of Jesus as a sinner, to, when he learns who Jesus truly is, calling Jesus Lord and worshipping him.
For this man it has been a journey from blindness to being able to see, but more importantly a journey from darkness to light.
And, a journey from being ignorant of who Jesus is to worshipping him as the Son of God.
The Pharisees, on the other hand, remain in darkness. They cannot recognise the truth of who Jesus is. They cannot come to the light because they are wilfully blind,
Jesus said: It is for judgement that I have come into this world, so that those without sight may see and those with sight may become blind.
Hearing this, some Pharisees who were present said to him, ‘So we are blind, are we?’
Jesus replied: If you were blind, you would not be guilty, but since you say, ‘We can see,’ your guilt remains.
Those who acknowledge Christ are in the light – indeed they are light.
And this is where we started with Paul and the Ephesians.
You were darkness once, but now you are light in the Lord; behave as children of light, for the effects of the light are seen in complete goodness and uprightness and truth.
But being light, as well as being a blessing to us, is a challenge as well. It is not enough to be in the light but it is a call, a commission – to become light and to be light in the world.
exultemus 