Saturday 12^th September 2026

 
Reading           Job 7:16-21
 
I loathe my life; I would not live for ever.
    Let me alone, for my days are a breath.
What are human beings, that you make so much of them,
    that you set your mind on them,
visit them every morning,
    test them every moment?
Will you not look away from me for a while,
    let me alone until I swallow my spittle?
If I sin, what do I do to you, you watcher of humanity?
    Why have you made me your target?
    Why have I become a burden to you?
Why do you not pardon my transgression
    and take away my iniquity?
For now I shall lie in the earth;
    you will seek me, but I shall not be.’
 
Reflection
 
Despite Job being in conversation with his friends, he repeatedly addresses God. He accuses God of being the one who is inflicting his suffering upon him. In today’s passage, Job portrays God as a stalker who refuses to leave Job alone. Wherever he turns, God is watching him.
 
This is a disturbing image and not one to be brushed over. Job has done nothing wrong and yet God inflicts suffering upon him. This is an image deeply at odds with an understanding of an all-loving God.
 
People have grappled with the image of an abusive God that appears in Job, particularly in the aftermath of the Holocaust. How do we deal with extreme, undeserved suffering if we believe in a loving God who makes and keeps promises to humanity? What do we do when it seems that God is not acting in this way?
 
There are different ways of approaching this issue. We can try and come up with an explanation of why God allows bad things to happen. Common suggestions are that suffering occurs because we have sinned without realising it or that it is character building. These explanations can be problematic though; such explanations can never justify why children are abused or genocides happen.
 
The Jewish scholar Zachary Braiterman suggests an alternative, which he terms ‘antitheodicy’. He describes this as “refusing to justify, explain, or accept” the relationship between God and suffering. An antitheodical approach recognises that terrible things happen to innocent people and that God should stop it, and it refuses to explain this away. Instead, an antitheodical approach protests against God. It says ‘I believe that you are all-loving and all-powerful. I believe that you can and should protect me. So why haven’t you?’
 
This is the approach that Job takes. Braiterman points out that this approach might be considered blasphemous, but it is not atheism. It does not reject God. Instead, it holds God to account. It maintains a stubborn belief that God is loving and powerful, and calls God out when this seems not to be the case.
 
Job’s protests against God became the subject of much attention in post-Holocaust Jewish theology, but protest against God is something that can be very uncomfortable in the Christian tradition. Nonetheless, we see throughout the Old Testament humans protesting when it seems that God has gone too far – Job does this, as well as Abraham, Moses, and the prophets.
 
Prayer
 
Lord, I believe in You.
I believe in Your Word
and I believe that hope is in You.
I believe that You hold power and majesty.
 
I also believe in humanity.
I believe that we are worthy of love,
I believe that we are worthy of peace.
 
I believe that we do not deserve suffering.
I will not be silent when I am in pain
or when I see others in pain.
 
I will not accept it.
I will not justify it.
I will cry out to You, Lord,
Just like Job and Jeremiah and Abraham and Moses,
because I hope for something better
and I refuse to give up that hope.  Amen.

Friday 11^th September 2026

Reading           Job 7:11-15
 
‘Therefore I will not restrain my mouth;
    I will speak in the anguish of my spirit;
    I will complain in the bitterness of my soul.
Am I the Sea, or the Dragon,
    that you set a guard over me?
When I say, “My bed will comfort me,
    my couch will ease my complaint”,
then you scare me with dreams
    and terrify me with visions,
so that I would choose strangling
    and death rather than this body.
 
Reflection
 
One of the big questions that we must ask when using trauma as a lens for reading the Bible is ‘who is it that is traumatised’? Was there a historical person called Job who is being described? Is Job a literary creation who was used to reflect the experiences of the writer? Either way, we have to remember that all we have access to now is a text, not a real person. No self-respecting psychiatrist would attempt to give a diagnosis on the basis of a story or poem without speaking to the writer in person, let alone if that person lived two and a half thousand years ago! We also have to remember that different cultures will interpret both the causes and the symptoms of what we now call trauma differently.
 
Regardless of what was going on behind the text, it is clear that the book of Job demonstrates a profound understanding of the way that humans respond to extreme stress and threat. One of the most commonly recognised symptoms of trauma is a sense that the traumatic event is persistently being re-experienced, for example through nightmares or flashbacks. Job 7 mirrors this experience. The protagonist describes how he longs for his bed and the oblivion of sleep. When he goes to bed, though, he tosses and turns, his sleep interrupted by nightmares. We can imagine the character awakening from a terrifying dream with his heart pounding and sweat pouring off him. Maybe he dreamed of his dead children or saw the messengers coming across the field again to tell him that armies had destroyed his livelihood.
 
Whilst sleepless, restless nights can be incredibly isolating, the Bible reminds us that we are not alone at these times. Others have been there too. Job, this faithful, upright, Godly man is described as experiencing this. Maybe the writer themselves, or someone they knew well, experienced flashbacks and nightmares. We don’t know who or what inspired the book, and yet we know that there is a rich tapestry of human experience behind it. Even when it seems that we are entirely alone and that our pain is unique, Job can remind us that there are others who have been there before and who understand what we are going through.
 
Prayer
 
A prayer for the night time
 
God of the quiet hours,
hold me as the darkness deepens.
Let the weight of the day slip from my shoulders.
Let me rest in the truth
that I am loved,
that I am known,
that I am not alone.
Keep watch through the night
and whisper peace into my sleep.
Let morning come
with the promise of light. Amen.
 
(The Revd Phil Nevard, used with permission)

Thursday 10^th September 2026

Reading           Job 4:1-11
 
Then Eliphaz the Temanite answered:
 
‘If one ventures a word with you, will you be offended?
    But who can keep from speaking?
See, you have instructed many;
    you have strengthened the weak hands.
Your words have supported those who were stumbling,
    and you have made firm the feeble knees.
But now it has come to you, and you are impatient;
    it touches you, and you are dismayed.
Is not your fear of God your confidence,
    and the integrity of your ways your hope?
 
 ‘Think now, who that was innocent ever perished?
    Or where were the upright cut off?
As I have seen, those who plough iniquity
    and sow trouble reap the same.
By the breath of God they perish,
    and by the blast of his anger they are consumed.
The roar of the lion, the voice of the fierce lion,
    and the teeth of the young lions are broken.
The strong lion perishes for lack of prey,
    and the whelps of the lioness are scattered.
 
Reflection
 
When Job lost everything, his friends came and sat with him and “no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great” (Job 2:13). They were simply there, sitting with him, showing him support and solidarity.
 
In Job 4, this changes. Suddenly the friends have an awful lot to say.
 
It is worth remembering that Job has not asked for their opinions. The questions that he posed when he lamented in chapter 3 were rhetorical. He had not addressed the friends and few people who ask, whilst in the depths of despair, why they were even born are genuinely inviting a philosophical debate. Nonetheless, Eliphaz hears Job’s lament and is the first friend who decides to ‘answer’.
 
He begins with a rather pointed comment that we could paraphrase as ‘Can I say something, or are you going to have a go at me? Either way, I’m going to say something.’ He then goes through a timeline of Job’s suffering. He looks to the past and remembers how Job used to support people who were struggling, and then he says, ‘But now it has come to you’, emphasising Job’s current situation. Verse 6 is then more future orientated, as Eliphaz tells Job that his hope should lie in God and his own righteousness. Everything will, Eliphaz says, come right in the end.
 
Eliphaz’s movement from past to present to future creates a timeline for Job. Things used to be good, they’re not right now, but they will be again. Trauma, however, disrupts a person’s sense of time. When the body is stuck in fight or flight mode, it can seem that things that happened in the past are intruding into the present. The possibility of things coming right in the future can seem a hollow promise rather than a comfort when one feels stuck in the moment of trauma.
 
Eliphaz is undoubtedly well-meaning. He wants to encourage his friend to trust God and keep going. Sometimes, though, attempts to impose meaning and set a timeline for other people can do more harm than good if this is not the place that the person is currently in themselves. Eliphaz’s response can give us a chance to reflect on our own responses to other people who are suffering. Do we always listen first, or can our eagerness to fix things sometimes cause us to speak too quickly?
 
Prayer
 
Another possible response to Job
 
I can see you are in pain, my friend.
I’ve heard you crying out and have witnessed your despair.
I am here.
We’ve been friends a long time.
You’ve helped lots of people throughout your life –
I’ve seen you supporting other people
when they’re in trouble or struggling.
Things are tough for you now,
and I hear your impatience and dismay.
I’ll support you now,
just as you have supported people.
You have questions and, if you want,
we can talk about them.
I won’t pretend to have all the answers,
but we can have a conversation when you’re ready.
I still have hope, even if you don’t right now,
and I will hold that hope for you.
Take your time, my friend.
I’m not going anywhere.

Wednesday 9^th September 2026

Reading           Job 3:1-10
 
After this Job opened his mouth and cursed the day of his birth. Job said:
‘Let the day perish on which I was born, and the night that said,
“A man-child is conceived.”
Let that day be darkness!
May God above not seek it, or light shine on it.
Let gloom and deep darkness claim it.
Let clouds settle upon it;
let the blackness of the day terrify it.
That night—let thick darkness seize it!
let it not rejoice among the days of the year;
let it not come into the number of the months.
Yes, let that night be barren;
let no joyful cry be heard in it.
Let those curse it who curse the Sea,
those who are skilled to rouse up Leviathan.
Let the stars of its dawn be dark;
let it hope for light, but have none;
may it not see the eyelids of the morning—
because it did not shut the doors of my mother’s womb,
and hide trouble from my eyes.
 
Reflection
 
As we move from the prologue to Job 3, there is a marked change. The style changes. The narrative is abandoned and suddenly Job’s voice is the only one we hear. He opens his mouth and out comes all the pain and grief and anger that has been bottled up inside him.
 
Job does not address his lament to anyone here. He is not speaking to his friends or to his wife. He is not even addressing God at this point. He just needs to express his pain and make known what he is going through.
 
Trauma is isolating. The world has been ruptured, and nothing is the same – one scholar calls this “passing through the ‘trauma membrane’”. Other people who have not shared the experience remain on the other side of the membrane; they are part of ‘the world before’ and cannot truly understand ‘the world after’. Often there are no words to describe what happened, because it is beyond everyday experience, and so explaining what happened and how it feels can seem impossible.
 
The act of crying out in lament can be one way in which individuals make their pain known to others. It is visceral and does not involve explanations or answers. In crying out, though, an individual is able to take the first step and say: ‘this happened, and it shouldn’t have done.’
 
The Bible is full of laments, and some people find that biblical laments resonate with their own suffering. The biblical scholar Gerald West writes about a Contextual Bible Study that took place in South Africa, where a group of individuals who had HIV sat and read Job 3 together. He recounts how the participants identified with Job’s honesty and emotion, and in particular with the way in which he imagines death. For the participants, seeing things that they themselves had experienced in the pages of Scripture validated how they were feeling and gave them the sense that they were not alone. At a time when they could not find the language to express how they were feeling, Scripture acted as a key by which they were able to identify and articulate their feelings.
 
Prayer
 
We cry out to you, Lord, even when there are no words
and trust that you will hear.
Sit with us as we curse and cry,
hear our screams, our sobs, our questioning.
Witness our pain and notice our suffering.
Remind us that we are not alone, even when we feel completely lost. Amen.
 

Education Sunday

Dear Friends,

For over 100 years churches in England and Wales have marked the second Sunday in September as Education Sunday as a day of prayer for anyone involved in Education.  Resources are prepared by Churches Together in England by representatives of the Baptist Union, the Catholic Church, the Church of England National Society, the Methodist Church, the Student Christian Movement, the Salvation Army, and, of course, ourselves in the URC.

The Revd Dr Phil Wall, Head of Ministries: Learning and Development offers this prayer to mark the day.

Creator God,
You taught the birds to sing, the stars to shine, the oceans to swell.
Be with, and bless, all who teach today.
Bless the nursery workers and university professors;
the support assistants and classroom teachers;
the virtual school staff, 
RCL teams,
and all who work in the world of education.

Guide us, strengthen us,
and cross our paths with glimpses of grace,
moments of rest,
and deep reserves of understanding and humour.

Flesh-inhabiting God,
You learnt from carpenters and kings, 
hesitant parents, temple teachers, and brave, worried mothers.
Be with, and bless, all learners today.

Bless the nervous newbies and the top set students;
the nerds, neuro-typicals, and neuro-diverse;
the pupils who thrive in mainstream schools,
all those in alternative education,
and those who struggle with both.
Bless the freshers and mature students, 
lay learners and ordinands, 
the youtube pupils, Duolingo-ers,
and lifelong learners.  

Help us to remember that there’s always more to discover about you,
your beautiful world, and all the creatures who call it home. 

Bless all us learners today. 

Mischievous, magnificent, Spirit,
when Jesus returned home, you came to speak new lessons of love. 
Be with, and bless, the Church today. 
Help us to seek your teaching, guidance, comfort and challenge.
Remind us that you still speak through wails and whispers, 
parables and poetry, sacraments and strangers.

Guide us away from easy answers, cheap dualities, and shallow certainties.
Rather, teach us to remain curious, herald hope, and study war no more.

Bless our local churches, that they may be Christ-centred classrooms of compassion,
where all are welcomed and wanted. 

Bless us to bless others in the name of our teaching, triune God. 

Amen.

With every good wish

Andy

The Rev’d Andy Braunston
Minister for Digital Worship
 

Monday 7^th September 2026
 

Reading           Job 1:1-5, 13-22; 2:9-13
 
There was once a man in the land of Uz whose name was Job. That man was blameless and upright, one who feared God and turned away from evil. There were born to him seven sons and three daughters.  He had seven thousand sheep, three thousand camels, five hundred yoke of oxen, five hundred donkeys, and very many servants; so that this man was the greatest of all the people of the east. His sons used to go and hold feasts in one another’s houses in turn; and they would send and invite their three sisters to eat and drink with them. And when the feast days had run their course, Job would send and sanctify them, and he would rise early in the morning and offer burnt-offerings according to the number of them all; for Job said, ‘It may be that my children have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts.’ This is what Job always did.…One day when his sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in the eldest brother’s house,  a messenger came to Job and said, ‘The oxen were ploughing and the donkeys were feeding beside them,  and the Sabeans fell on them and carried them off, and killed the servants with the edge of the sword; I alone have escaped to tell you.’ While he was still speaking, another came and said, ‘The fire of God fell from heaven and burned up the sheep and the servants, and consumed them; I alone have escaped to tell you.’ While he was still speaking, another came and said, ‘The Chaldeans formed three columns, made a raid on the camels and carried them off, and killed the servants with the edge of the sword; I alone have escaped to tell you.’ While he was still speaking, another came and said, ‘Your sons and daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother’s house, and suddenly a great wind came across the desert, struck the four corners of the house, and it fell on the young people, and they are dead; I alone have escaped to tell you.’ Then Job arose, tore his robe, shaved his head, and fell on the ground and worshipped.  He said, ‘Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return there; the Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.’  In all this Job did not sin or charge God with wrongdoing…Then his wife said to him, ‘Do you still persist in your integrity? Curse God, and die.’ But he said to her, ‘You speak as any foolish woman would speak. Shall we receive the good at the hand of God, and not receive the bad?’ In all this Job did not sin with his lips. Now when Job’s three friends heard of all these troubles that had come upon him, each of them set out from his home—Eliphaz the Temanite, Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite. They met together to go and console and comfort him. When they saw him from a distance, they did not recognize him, and they raised their voices and wept aloud; they tore their robes and threw dust in the air upon their heads. They sat with him on the ground for seven days and seven nights, and no one spoke a word to him, for they saw that his suffering was very great.
 
Reflection
 
The book of Job opens with words that sound as though they have come straight from a fairytale. Once upon a time, in the land of Uz, there lived a man called Job. His life was perfect. He had a large family, great wealth, and he was the most righteous man in the whole world.
 
And then terrible things happened.
 
It does not take a great leap of imagination to see this situation as traumatising, and the lens of trauma has become increasingly popular as a way of interpreting the book of Job. Trauma is often described as a rupture between the way things were and the way things are now. The life that a person knows is disrupted so cataclysmically that there appears to be no way back. Beliefs about the safety and justice of the world are shattered. Relationships are altered. Language itself becomes inadequate for communicating something that is beyond anything the individual experienced before.
 
It is not events themselves that are traumatic though. Two people might experience the same event and yet only one experience it as a trauma. The act of discovering a bomb might result in nightmares and flashbacks and ongoing anxiety for one person, and yet for a bomb disposal expert it is simply another day at the office. Our own unique combination of past experiences and expectations shape how our brains and bodies respond to different situations.
 
Thus, the prologue alone is not enough to make us reach for the lens of trauma theory when reading the book of Job. What comes next and the way that Job responds is, and throughout this series we will explore passages of Job and the trauma we see reflected in Job’s story. We will think about ways in which people respond to trauma and how we might care for others when they have experienced trauma.
 
But we are not there yet. For today, we must simply sit with Job in his shock. We are there, as the messenger brings the news that will tear his world apart. We are there, as Job goes through the motions to do and say the things he is expected to do and say, whilst knowing that nothing will ever be the same again.
 
Prayer
 
In the darkness and the grief,
in the shock and in the pain,
we wait.
In the turmoil and disruption,
in the numbness and the confusion,
we wait.
Wait with us, Lord.
Sit beside us and hold us when there are no words.
Amen.

Readings

1 Thessalonians 5:17  “Pray without ceasing.”
 
Ephesians 6:18  “Pray at all times in the Spirit.”

1 Timothy 2:8  “I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands.”
 
Reflection

Pray without ceasing?  Paul, have you seen my life?

There are emails to answer…meals to cook…people to care for…deadlines to meet…laundry that mysteriously multiplies when I’m not looking! And you’re suggesting I just… pray. Constantly!?

Is this meant to make me feel inspired…or guilty? Because if this is the benchmark of faithful living, then I am failing!

“Pray without ceasing.” Does that mean kneeling all day? Whispering holy words while trying to have a coherent conversation? Ignoring the world in order to talk to God?

I have heard this verse used as a measuring stick for devotion: “If you loved God more, you would pray more.” And: “If you were serious about your faith, you’d make time.”

As if prayer were another task on the to-do list. Another obligation. Another place to feel inadequate.

But surely that cannot be what Paul means.

Because life itself demands our attention.

Because God gave us bodies to move, minds to think, hands to work.

Because Jesus himself didn’t spend every waking moment in formal prayer.

So what is this “unceasing” prayer?

Maybe it isn’t about ‘speaking’ to God all the time.
Maybe it’s about living as though God is always there.

Not constant words…but constant awareness.

A quiet turning of the heart. A steady undercurrent of connection. A life lived in conversation, even when no words are spoken.

Perhaps prayer without ceasing looks like:

a sigh when things are hard;
a thank you when something goes right;
a cry for help in the middle of chaos;
a moment of stillness in the noise.

Perhaps it is less about posture…and more about presence.

Not withdrawing from life to pray, but carrying God with me into life.

Because if God is truly everywhere, then prayer can happen anywhere: in traffic. in meetings, in kitchens, in hospital corridors, and in ordinary, unremarkable moments.

Maybe, then, “pray without ceasing” is not an impossible command…but a gentle reminder that I am never alone.

Prayer

God,
I do not always know how to pray.
Life is noisy, busy, distracting.

Help me to live with an awareness of you
That runs beneath everything I do.

Turn my sighs into prayers,
My gratitude into worship,
My worries into conversation with you.

Teach me that prayer is not another burden,
But a reminder
That you are always here.
Amen.

1 Kings 17:8-14  

Then the word of the Lord came to Elijah, “Arise, go to Zarephath, which belongs to Sidon, and dwell there. Behold, I have commanded a widow there to feed you.”  So he arose and went to Zarephath. And when he came to the gate of the city, behold, a widow was there gathering sticks. And he called to her and said, “Bring me a little water in a vessel, that I may drink.” And as she was going to bring it, he called to her and said, “Bring me a morsel of bread in your hand.”  And she said, “As the Lord your God lives, I have nothing baked, only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. And now I am gathering a couple of sticks that I may go in and prepare it for myself and my son, that we may eat it and die.”  And Elijah said to her, “Do not fear; go and do as you have said. But first make me a little cake of it and bring it to me, and afterward make something for yourself and your son. For thus says the Lord, the God of Israel, ‘The jar of flour shall not be spent, and the jug of oil shall not be empty, until the day that the Lord sends rain upon the earth.’”

Reflection

In the verses preceding this story there is a drought, and God tells Elijah where he should find water and that he will be fed by ravens.  Here, though, Elijah is instructed to go to Zarephath, where a widow has been told to look after him. The widow, who remains nameless, is tested by Elijah as to the quality of her hospitality:  Asked to provide a little food, she replies that she has virtually nothing even for herself and is about to prepare a final meal for herself and her son before they lay down and die.  Her response must have made Elijah think that the ravens were a better deal!

Elijah reminds the woman that God is a God of hope, and that if she trusts in God, she will have enough for her and her son – and to feed a guest. This story goes way beyond generosity and demonstrates how our lives are intertwined. God instructs the widow; God gives direction to Elijah – and together they provide for each other.

But what about now?  During 2025, some areas of the UK experienced hosepipe bans – not quite drought, but it came pretty close. The cost of living continued to increase, while shrinkflation has meant we pay more to purchase less. More people are experiencing food poverty, while donations to Foodbanks have declined.

Yet, Elijah’s God is still present in our world today – the same generous God who promises to look after us. And the spirit which goes beyond generosity is still evident where we see our lives as being linked and together, drawing in and drawing on those often relegated to the margins of society.

Today’s story also offers encouragement to keep faith – even when things may look bleak. Just as the widow discovered, God may have other ideas about what should happen next… So, if ‘your plan’ isn’t working out, why not try God’s plan instead?

Prayer

Generous God, 
giver of life, 
we give you thanks and praise.

May we be ready to listen to your voice – 
and help us to respond as best we can, 
especially when hope seems far away.
Help us to play our part in showing your love to others, 
through words and deeds.
Amen