MY NEXT SERMON

At the present time I do not have a preaching engagement diarised.  Will post details once I know when and where I shall next be preaching. Blessings to you all.

SERMON 235 - THURSDAY 14 MAY 2026 - ASCENSION DAY

 Sermon at Pepperbox Hill, Whiteparish, Wiltshire – Ascension Day - Thursday 14^th May 2026

Acts 1:4-11

Our passage of scripture, this morning, is well familiar to most of us and I have often wondered what reaction I might have had in witnessing this event, as the Apostles did. The narrative presents a powerful moment of transition, hope, and promise. Jesus, after His resurrection, has gathered together His disciples and prepared them for His departure. Although the disciples are understandably uncertain and still focused on earthly expectations, Jesus redirects their attention toward God’s greater plan. Rather than remaining physically with them, He promises that they will receive the Holy Spirit, who will guide, strengthen, and empower them. The Ascension is therefore not a moment of abandonment, but one of hope.

At first glance, the disciples must have felt grief and loss as they watched Jesus ascend into heaven. For years they had walked beside Him, listened to His teaching, and relied on His presence. They had been his apprentices, often getting things wrong but with the Master always there to correct them and help them out. Now they thought they were about to be left alone and the suddenness of this must have left them feeling quite anxious and fearful.   Yet Jesus reminds them that His leaving is necessary because the Holy Spirit will come upon them. This promise transforms their fear into expectation. They are not being left alone; instead, God’s presence will remain with them in a new and deeper way. The Holy Spirit becomes a source of comfort, wisdom, courage, and faith for all believers.

The passage also highlights the mission that Jesus gives His followers. He tells them they will be His witnesses “in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.” This calling brings hope because it shows that God’s salvation is not just limited to one group of people, but is meant for the whole wide world. The disciples, ordinary people with doubts and weaknesses like us, are entrusted with sharing the message of Christ. Through the Holy Spirit, they are being equipped to carry out this mission. This reminds Christians today, like us, that God still works through imperfect people to bring light and hope to others.

A further important message in this passage is the promise of Christ’s return. As the disciples stand looking into the sky, the angels tell them that Jesus “will come back in the same way” they saw Him go into heaven. This promise gives us, and all believers lasting hope. The Ascension is not the end of the story. Christians now live with the assurance that Jesus reigns in heaven and will one day return to restore all things. In times of suffering, uncertainty, or waiting, this promise encourages believers to remain faithful and hopeful despite so many pressures from elsewhere in our daily lives.  It is something which we can all cling onto as we live through these times of this chaos and uncertainty in an unstable world.

The Ascension teaches that hope is found not only in what Jesus has done, but also in what He continues to do through the Holy Spirit and what He will do when He comes again. Even though Jesus is no longer physically present on earth, His Spirit remains active among His people. Christians are called to live with confidence, trusting that they are never abandoned and that God’s promises are true and secure.  In Hebrews 13:5 we are once more reminded of God’s words in Deuteronomy 31:6 – “Never will I leave you, never will I forsake you”

This passage is filled with encouragement. Jesus leaves His followers with purpose, power, and promise. The Holy Spirit sustains believers in the present, while the hope of Christ’s return points toward the future. The Ascension therefore becomes not a farewell marked by sadness, but a message of enduring hope for all Christians.

Amen.                                                                                                    MFB/235/13052026Top of Form

 

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SERMON 234 - SUNDAY 10 MAY 2026 - Easter 6

Sermon at St. Mary’s Parish Church, West Grimstead – 6th Sunday in Easter – Sunday 10^th May 2026

Acts 11:22-31; 1 Peter 3:13-22; John 14:15-21

May I speak in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and may these words be those of you Lord, and may those who hear be blessed. Amen

Homily: “What Does Your God Look Like to You?”
(Based on Acts 11:22–31; 1 Peter 3:13–22; and John 14:15–21)

When you close your eyes and think of God, what comes to mind?
For some, God looks like majesty and power—an unapproachable light that burns with holiness. For others, God looks like tenderness: a shepherd, a parent, a friend who stays close when all else falls away. The truth is, our image of God is often shaped by our experiences—by how we’ve been loved, how we’ve suffered, and how we’ve seen grace at work around us. The Scriptures today invite us to look again at who God truly is—and to allow that image to change us.

1. God Who Looks Like Encouragement and Generosity

In the Acts of the Apostles, we see the early Church at Antioch coming alive in faith. The believers there were from many different backgrounds. When the apostles heard what was happening, they sent Barnabas to encourage them. Barnabas—whose name means “son of encouragement”—saw the grace of God at work and rejoiced. He didn’t come to judge or control; he came to strengthen hearts and recognize goodness.

This is an image of God worth holding close.
What does your God look like? Perhaps God looks like Barnabas—someone who arrives not with condemnation but with a joyful heart, helping others find courage and hope.

Barnabas’s response shows that God delights in us—not in perfection, but in the growth of faith and love. God sees the flicker of goodness within us and breathes it brighter. When we face conflict or uncertainty in our communities, can we be like Barnabas and reflect that same divine encouragement?

Our God, then, is not distant. God looks like a companion who notices grace and calls it forth. God looks like generosity, like open arms welcoming those once seen as outsiders. God looks like joy in unity.

2. God Who Looks Like Courage and Mercy

St. Peter, writing to a scattered and suffering Church, tells us not to fear when we do what is right, even if the world misunderstands us. He reminds us that Christ also suffered for the sake of righteousness—“once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring us to God.”

Here, God looks like enduring love. Not triumphant in worldly terms, but steadfast in mercy. Peter’s words turn our hearts from fear to hope: suffering is not a sign of God’s absence, but of sharing in Christ’s redeeming work.

To say “this is what my God looks like” is to say, “My God is not a stranger to pain.” Our God has scars. Our God stands beside the oppressed, the misunderstood, and the hurting. Our God looks like Jesus before Pilate—silent, yet victorious in truth.

This image of God challenges the false idols of control or comfort. It reminds us that holiness isn’t about escaping the world’s troubles but transforming them from within. So when Peter asks us to be ready to explain the hope within us, he’s asking for more than words—he’s calling us to embody the face of a merciful God.

Perhaps in your life, God has looked like compassion that refuses to give up, or forgiveness that waited patiently for your return. That divine patience, that merciful courage—that is the God Peter knew, and the God we are called to mirror.

3. God Who Looks Like Love Alive Within Us

And in John’s Gospel, Jesus gives the heart of it all: “If you love me, keep my commandments. And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Advocate, to be with you forever.”

Here we see the deepest truth about God’s appearance—it is love made visible in love. The God of Jesus Christ is not confined to heaven or to history. God dwells within us through the Holy Spirit—the Advocate, the Comforter, the Spirit of truth.

What does that mean for how we imagine God?
It means God looks like love that abides. God looks like someone who refuses to leave us orphaned. God is the light that quietly fills the soul when we pray, the peace that steadies us when all else shakes.

In a world where so many gods are made of power and performance, our God looks different. Our God looks like relationship. A God who calls us friends, who washes feet, who breathes peace. Not a God who demands fear, but a God who invites intimacy.

If we truly believe this, our lives become living icons of what we adore. The way we speak, forgive, and serve becomes the reflection of what our God looks like to us. If our God is kind, we show kindness. If our God is faithful, we stay faithful. If our God is love, then love is what must be seen in us.

4. Seeing and Showing This God Today

So, what does your God look like today?
If you’re carrying grief, God may look like the one who weeps beside you.
If you’re carrying guilt, God may look like the one who runs to embrace you.
If you’re carrying hope, God may look like the smile of someone who believes in you.

And for others, perhaps you will be the face of God today—the gentle word, the patient presence, the helping hand. You may be the Barnabas someone needs. The courage of Peter someone admires. The promise of John’s Jesus someone clings to.

Because God has chosen to dwell in us, all of us together reveal what God looks like. No one’s vision is complete alone. In our diversity as believers—young and old, joyful and weary, certain and questioning—God’s face shines through in countless ways.

The Church in Antioch grew strong not because everyone looked the same or thought the same, but because God’s Spirit was alive in each believer. When the world sees such love among us, when it sees encouragement instead of envy, mercy instead of judgment, and faith instead of fear, then the world sees what our God truly looks like.

Conclusion

So today, perhaps the question is not only “What does your God look like to you?”
It’s also, “When others look at you, what does your God look like through you?”

May the Spirit of truth shape our hearts to reflect the God we know in Christ—
the God who encourages like Barnabas,
who suffers with mercy like Jesus,
and who abides within us as love unending.

Amen.                                                                                                 MFB/234/090520026

 

SERMON 233 - SUNDAY 3 MAY 2026 - Easter 5

Sermon at All Saints’ Parish Church, Farley – 5th Sunday in Easter – Sunday 3rd May 2026

Acts 7:55-60; 1 Peter 2:2-10; John 14:1-14

May I speak in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit and may these words be those of you Lord, and may those who hear be blessed. Amen.

Our three readings this morning are all connected under the shadow of one single sustaining truth – as our hymn we have just sung puts it so clearly – Christ is our cornerstone, on him alone we build.

 At the commencement of the building of any large building or edifice it is always the first, or cornerstone which is placed at the north-east corner of the proposed structure from which the whole building finds its strength and sustainability.  Likewise, Christ is our cornerstone — the living Rock upon which our faith is set, especially when trials and opposition come.

 We heard, from each of our three readings this morning how Scripture has let these passages shape our understanding: Stephen’s dying witness in Acts 7:55–60, Peter’s call to spiritual growth in 1 Peter 2:2–10, and our Lord’s comforting promise in John 14:1–14. Together they teach us how the cornerstone holds us steady, forms us into a living house of faith, and sends us into the world with courage.

 First, let’s look at Acts 7:55–60.  Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, sees the glory of God and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. As stones are hurled at him and his life ebbs away, Stephen prays not for vengeance but for mercy: “Lord Jesus, receive my spirit,” and “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” In that moment of violent rejection, Stephen’s faith is not a fragile thing; it is anchored. He has met the cornerstone. Stephen stands with his eyes fixed on the risen Christ, and that vision transforms how he faces death. The cornerstone does not promise us exemption from suffering but it promises a horizon — the presence of Christ — that makes suffering a stage for witness rather than the end of hope.

 Stephen’s example teaches us two crucial lessons. One, when faith is built on Christ, our responses in suffering reflect Christ’s character: mercy, intercession, and trust. Two, the cornerstone is not a solitary refuge but a public acclamation. Stephen’s last words point beyond himself to the judgment and mercy of God; his death becomes a sermon that pierces the hearts of onlookers (Acts tells us that a young man named Saul approved of his execution). The cornerstone, met and confessed, reshapes not only the one who clings to it but those who watch.  That same Saul, of course, later became the great Apostle Paul.

 In our second reading, 1 Peter 2:2–10, Peter speaks to a scattered, suffering people and uses the image of a spiritual house built of living stones with Christ, again, as the cornerstone: “Like newborn infants, long for the pure spiritual milk... As you come to him, the living Stone—rejected by men but in God’s sight chosen and precious— you yourselves like living stones are being built up as a spiritual house.” Here Peter invites us into identity and purpose. We are not isolated boulders but living stones, hammered and shaped into place around the cornerstone, just in the same way buildings are constructed.  Just as our church, both the physical building and the community within it, are meant to be.

 This Scripture emphasises nourishment and growth. Newborn babies crave milk; Christians must, also, crave the Word, the truth of Christ, that we might grow. Growth happens in relation to the cornerstone. When we read Scripture, pray, and gather together to worship, we are being set upon the foundation that resists the storms (remember the parable of the man who built his house on sandy foundations!). The cornerstone gives us both our worth and our work. We are chosen and precious because Christ anchors us; we are called to be a spiritual house, a priestly people offering spiritual sacrifices. The cornerstone gives dignity: “You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people.” It also gives commission: as living stones, we serve, intercede, and witness.

 I particularly love the latter part of that passage – the bit about being a royal priesthood.  It reminds us, or should remind us, that as Christ’s chosen, we as Christians have both a Moral and Spiritual duty to take the gospel out, like building materials, to all people so that they too, the non-believers, may have the opportunity to be part of that great edifice of Christian love and faith of which the Cornerstone is unshakeable and fixed for all eternity.

 However, Peter’s image contains a warning as well as a promise. He quotes Isaiah:

 “Behold, I am laying in Zion a stone... a cornerstone and chosen and precious, and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.”

 But he also says about those who do not believe that the cornerstone becomes “a stone of stumbling and a rock of offence.” The cornerstone demands a response. Those who accept its claim find refuge, identity, and purpose. Those who reject it find a mirror that exposes the heart’s rebellion. Yet even in that hardness of heart, the cornerstone stands. Its firmness is not a threat but a faithfully present remedy for our confusion and rebellion.  Something which I think we need to be ever mindful of in this present state of the world.  This cornerstone, unlike the instability of the political world in which we live, is unchanging and it the true cornerstone upon which we should build our lives and not the ever-changing populist propaganda which confronts us daily.

 Finally, let’s listen to Jesus in John 14:1–14. The disciples are anxious; Thomas and Philip voice their worries. Jesus speaks tenderly: “Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” He promises that he goes to prepare a place and that he is the way, the truth, and the life — no one comes to the Father except through him. When faith is built on this, troubled hearts find rest. Jesus does not offer mere words of comfort; he offers himself as the cornerstone that secures our path to the Father. What Jesus promises is relational: abiding with the Father, and the Father abiding with the Son, and with those who keep his word. The cornerstone links us into the life of the Trinitarian God.  Jesus is the way and the only way.  Indeed, early Christians were not called or known as “Christians” but rather “Followers of the Way”.

 From John we also draw a promise of power and presence. Jesus says that whoever believes in him will do the works he does and even greater works because he goes to the Father. The cornerstone is not a passive foundation; it sends forth living stones to act. Faith anchored in Christ is a faith that moves outward: healing, teaching, serving, forgiving. The presence of Christ enables us to live beyond our capacities and to resist the pressures that would otherwise unhinge us.

 When trials come — ridicule, persecution, grief, inner doubt — and let’s be honest, who of us has not been in such situations or had such thoughts and emotions – let us remember Jesus’s words in this passage – that we can find refuge, strength, truth and honesty in The Way of Christ with him as our Cornerstone; as “Followers of the Way”.

 So let us always remember - this Cornerstone is not distant or abstract. He is the Risen Christ who stood at God’s right hand, whom Stephen saw and confessed. He is the living Stone whom Peter calls precious and chosen. He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life Jesus promised in John. When storms come — and they will — we will not be moved because we are not built on shifting sand but on this living Rock.

 

Amen                                                                                           MFB/233/30042026