Colourful Dreamer

Since pagan times harvest festivals have been annual celebrations for successful harvests. They featured ample food and freedom from the necessity to work in the fields. The common features were eating, merriment, contests, music and romance. Christians adopted these festivals to give thanks to God our creator for God’s goodness in the harvest. Today we give thanks for our harvest that we have grown in our gardens, if we have one, and the harvest we are able to buy each day in the shops.   We join with all God’s people continuing to give thanks for God’s provision. Harvest festivals also provide a time to take stock. It is an occasion for us to confess that we too often are not satisfied and many in the West in particular are driven to have more. This has resulted in a significant percentage of humanity not having enough, living in constant hunger, debilitating poverty, all so that our desires might be met. The collapse of the building in Bangladesh is a stark reminder of th...

I am recording my sunday sermons for any who are interested. So not only can you read the text you can listen to me too, if you are that crazy. This sunday was all about love and can be found here .

Easter 5 – Commemoration of the Battle of Gate Pa Readings: First Reading :                         Acts 11:1-18      Psalm:                          Psalm: 148 Second Reading:         Rev 21:1-6        Gospel:                        John 13:31-35             What I want to say: ask – how did Jesus love and talk about loving? Explore text from John Loving one another is not easy – as New Testament (Acts, Pauls writing) show or as history church shows failure to live out this “simpl...

As you listen you might also want to read Wilfred Owens poem DULCE ET DECORUM EST(1) Bent double, like old beggars under sacks, Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge, Till on the haunting flares(2) we turned our backs And towards our distant rest(3) began to trudge. Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind; Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots(4)  Of tired, outstripped(5) Five-Nines(6) that dropped behind. Gas!(7) Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling, Fitting the clumsy helmets(8) just in time; But someone still was yelling out and stumbling, And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime(9) . . . Dim, through the misty panes(10) and thick green light, As under a green sea, I saw him drowning. In all my dreams, before my helpless sight, He plunges at me, guttering,(11) choking, drowning. If in some smothering dreams you too could pace Beh...

Yesterday in New Zealand and Australia we remembered ANZAC day, the day thousands of Aussie and Kiwi young men began to be sacrificed on the beaches of Gallipoli in Turkey during WW1. We remember and honour all those who have gone overseas to fight, those who did not come home, and those who came home scarred either physically or psychologically.  I so struggle with this day. I am now the RSA chaplain and so have a role leading the dawn service. I am very happy to honour those who fought, who died, who came home forever changed, and those who were left behind in this land. It is important to remember them all.  But when I listen to our news reporters talking about how they fought for our freedom I get so angry. WW1 cannot in any way be described as a conflict with freedom on the line. It was a war that should never have happened. And it made no difference to our freedom. It was simply about politics. In the end most of these conflicts were about politics not freedo...