Friday, 13 February 2026

 
St Matthew 20: 17 – 19
 
Now Jesus was going up to Jerusalem. On the way, he took the Twelve aside and said to them,  “We are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be delivered over to the chief priests and the teachers of the law. They will condemn him to death and will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified. On the third day he will be raised to life!”
 
Reflection
 
I recently turned seventy. I first preached in a church service when I was sixteen and have been doing so one way or another ever since. Periodically I’ve thought about the purpose and value of preaching – why do people, especially a regular ‘audience’, need to hear well-rehearsed themes week after week? Are they simply slow to learn, or are they, maybe, just politely tolerant? The answer was supplied in part by a lovely, wise friend who used to tell the story of a parson who preached the same sermon every week. When asked why, he replied, “I’m waiting until they’ve understood and acted on what I’m saying!’
 
A bit harsh, perhaps, and certainly not true for many of the lovely, thoughtful and exemplary Christian people with whom I’ve been lucky enough to spend time, but helpful in reminding us that grasping what God is doing in our world and in our lives is rarely a ‘one-shot’ process.
 
I guess that is why for a third time, Jesus attempts to get his close disciples to understand where his journey is bound to lead. It isn’t hard to fill in the imagined dialogue as he takes them to one side and speaks urgently about the inevitable outcome of his chosen course. Easy enough also to see his eyes rolling as they can only respond with ‘what, how, why’, and, ‘are you sure about this?’. Experience seems to show that it is often only when we have matched what we have been taught with real life events and challenges that we can fully understand the dangers or opportunities of what we have learned.
 
As we prepare once more to journey with Jesus towards the familiar events that lead to a cross, an empty tomb, and beyond, I hope and pray that our shared travelling will be enlivened by moments of recognition and deepening understanding – moments at which we can say, ‘Ah, I get it now – thank you!’
 
Prayer
 
Lord Jesus,
I know the story and
I catch something of how your friends
struggled to connect the success of your
speaking and healing with how your journey
was to end.
So, help me to travel with you well and
with openness of eyes, heart and mind.
May our interweaving paths lead me to
deeper understanding and
a yet more useful faith. Amen.

 Wednesday, 11 February 2026 

St Matthew 19: 16 – 29
 
Just then a man came up to Jesus and asked, “Teacher, what good thing must I do to get eternal life?” “Why do you ask me about what is good?” Jesus replied. “There is only One who is good. If you want to enter life, keep the commandments.” “Which ones?” he inquired. Jesus replied, “‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony,  honour your father and mother,’ and ‘love your neighbour as yourself.’” “All these I have kept,” the young man said. “What do I still lack?” Jesus answered, “If you want to be perfect, go, sell your possessions and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” When the young man heard this, he went away sad, because he had great wealth.
 
Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly I tell you, it is hard for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of heaven.  Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for someone who is rich to enter the kingdom of God.” When the disciples heard this, they were greatly astonished and asked, “Who then can be saved?” Jesus looked at them and said, “With man this is impossible, but with God all things are possible.” Peter answered him, “We have left everything to follow you! What then will there be for us?” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, at the renewal of all things, when the Son of Man sits on his glorious throne, you who have followed me will also sit on twelve thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel. And everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life. But many who are first will be last, and many who are last will be first.
 
Reflection
 
Which one of these do you think you would find it harder to do – keep the commandments or sell your possessions and give the money to the poor? The young man who approached Jesus was confident that he had kept all the commandments, but baulked at the prospect of selling his possessions for the benefit of the poor.
 
Surely he was overconfident in claiming to keep all the commandments. Who does that all of the time – not me for sure. As for selling my possessions and giving my money to the poor, I do my best to be intentional and generous in charitable giving, but Jesus asks for much more than that.
 
If keeping the commandments and/or selling my possessions and giving the money to the poor is the minimum requirement for me to obtain eternal life then I’m sunk. I don’t have it in me to do either. As Jesus would put it, I’m a camel trying to squeeze through the eye of a needle.
 
If someone like me, who has already been visibly blessed by God with riches in this life, can’t make it into the kingdom of heaven, then as astounded disciples put it, ‘who can be saved?’ And Jesus’s answer is that no one can. No mere mortal like me (or you) can make this happen. It’s impossible, unless, of course, God chooses to make it possible.
 
Jesus goes on to talk about God making the impossible possible for those same astounded disciples, saying that they will ‘inherit eternal life.’ That won’t happen because they have cracked keeping all the commandments, though, nor because they have sold their possessions and given the money to the poor. It will happen because God has chosen to make it happen.
 
I need to relax. God’s ready, willing and able to squeeze me into the kingdom of heaven, somehow and somewhere. And for that I should give thanks, with keeping commandments and generosity to the poor being good ways to do so.
 
Prayer
 
Dear God, please do the impossible, and squeeze me into your kingdom of heaven.
Amen.

  
St Matthew 19: 13 – 15
 
Then people brought little children to Jesus for him to place his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples rebuked them. Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”  When he had placed his hands on them, he went on from there.
 
Reflection
 
In this short passage we are called to recognise how Jesus loved, and demonstrated that love, for children.
 
Jesus’ act is, for many, countercultural. For in this world the weak, small, and vulnerable are often disregarded without any care. However, for Jesus children come with no power or status and are the very embodiment of God’s Kingdom. A Kingdom where worth is not measured by position, strength or wealth but by innocence, trust, and love.
 
The passage challenges us to see all children as Jesus did, precious, sacred, and very much deserving of our love. When Jesus told the disciples “Let the children come” this was not just a spiritual invitation, it was a moral command. A command to break down the barriers of hatred, indifference, and violence that prevent children from experiencing life, love, and care.
 
When we look at the world in all its horror today, we witness children, the most vulnerable amongst people, caught in the crossfire of conflicts and wars. Wars which are in complete disobedience to the word of Christ who commanded us to “love our neighbour”.
 
It is therefore our responsibility, as the present disciples of Christ, to take a stance. To “let the children come”, to care for all the children of this world in whichever way we can. To give them a voice and to make their voices heard by those in power who put selfish I injustice before human life.
 
Jesus’ gentle act of blessing was a radical declaration that the compassion of God is, first and foremost, focused on those the world forgets. For instance, in Gaza, Ukraine and all other places where children suffer. This passage calls us to embody that same compassion. Not just in lip service but in advocacy, action and prayer. For, as Jesus reminds us, the Kingdom of heaven belongs to the weak and downtrodden.
 
When we defend, love and cherish the lives of children, we draw closer to that Kingdom on earth.
 
Prayer
 
Holy One,
You welcomed the little ones with open arms,
and so, we bring before You 
the children of Gaza, Ukraine 
and far too many other parts of this world,
living in fear, hunger, and loss,
Shelter them in your loving arms,
bring healing to their hearts, 
safety to their homes 
and peace to their lands.
In the name of Jesus, we pray.
Amen

 
Today’s service is led by the Revd Nicola Furley-Smith

Introduction and Call to Worship
 
We come on our own, we come together. We come with our excitement
and with our lack of expectation. We come with our longing and our pride. We come with our words and with our silence. We come to you, God of truth, with our hands and hearts open, asking that you reach out to us afresh. Show us your truth, direct our paths. You, alone, can change our lives. So we worship you – God of all that gives meaning to life. We worship you. Amen.
 
Hymn       Christ is the world’s true light
George Wallace Briggs (1875-1959) © Oxford University Press OneLicence No. # A-734713 Sung by the Choir of Sheffield Cathedral

Christ is the world’s true Light,
its Captain of salvation,
the Daystar clear and bright
to every land and nation;
new life, new hope awakes,
where we accept his way:
freedom her bondage breaks,
and night is turned to day.
 
2 In Christ all races meet,
their ancient feuds forgetting,
the whole round world complete,
from sunrise to its setting:
when Christ is known as Lord,
all shall forsake their fear,
to ploughshare beat the sword,
to pruning-hook the spear.

3 One Lord, in one great name unite us all who own thee;
cast out our pride and shame that hinder to enthrone thee;
the world has waited long,has travailed long in pain;
to heal its ancient wrong, come, Prince of Peace, and reign.
 
Prayer of Adoration
 
Holy and gracious God,
You speak through prophets and poets,
You shine through Christ, the Light of the World,
You stir our hearts by your Spirit
until we lift our eyes again to your glory.
e worship you
for your justice that rolls down like waters,
for your mercy that meets us in our weakness,
for your love that refuses to let us go.
We praise you
for creating us to shine with your light,
to season the earth with hope,
and to live as signs of your grace.
Receive our adoration, spoken and unspoken,
as your people gather in your name. Amen.
 
Prayer of Confession
 
Forgive us, loving God,
for the times we have sought our own glory
and lit our own lamps.
Forgive us when we have hidden the light you have kindled in us,
when fear has dimmed our discipleship
and pride has overshadowed your grace.
Shine the light of your humility and mercy into our hearts,
that individually and together we may reflect the obedience
and the self-giving love of your Son, our Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.
 
Assurance of Pardon

Hear the good news:
The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.
In Christ we are forgiven; in Christ we are renewed. Thanks be to God.
 
The Lord’s Prayer
 
Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be thy name;
thy kingdom come;
thy will be done;
on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread.
And forgive us our trespasses,
as we forgive those who trespass against us.
And lead us not into temptation;
but deliver us from evil.
For thine is the kingdom,
the power, and the glory,
for ever and ever.
Amen.
 
Hymn       Longing for light, we wait in darkness
© 1994 Bernadette Farrell (born 1957) published by OCP Publications 
OneLicense No. A-734713 Sung by Chris Brunelle and used with his kind permission.

Longing for light, 
we wait in darkness.
Longing for truth, 
we turn to you.
Make us your own, 
your holy people,
light for the world to see.
 
Christ be our light! 
Shine in our hearts.
Shine through the darkness.
Christ be our light!
Shine in your Church 
gathered today.
 
2 Longing for peace, 
our world is troubled.
Longing for hope, 
many despair.
Your word alone 
has pow’r to save us.
Make us your living voice.
 
3 Longing for food, 
many are hungry.
Longing for water, 
many still thirst.
Make us your bread, 
broken for others,
shared until all are fed.
 
Introduction to the Readings
 
Today’s Scriptures draw a straight line from the cry of the prophet Isaiah
to the teaching of Jesus on the hillside. Isaiah reminds God’s people that true worship is not outward performance but lives shaped by justice, compassion, and liberation.  And Jesus, using images of salt and light,
calls us to a faith that is visible, transformative, and grounded in God’s long faithfulness. Let us listen for the Word of the Lord.
 
Reading   Isaiah 58:1–9a
 
Shout out; do not hold back! Lift up your voice like a trumpet! Announce to my people their rebellion, to the house of Jacob their sins. Yet day after day they seek me and delight to know my ways, as if they were a nation that practiced righteousness and did not forsake the ordinance of their God; they ask of me righteous judgments; they want God on their side. “Why do we fast, but you do not see? Why humble ourselves, but you do not notice?” Look, you serve your own interest on your fast day and oppress all your workers. You fast only to quarrel and to fight and to strike with a wicked fist. Such fasting as you do today will not make your voice heard on high. Is such the fast that I choose, a day to humble oneself? Is it to bow down the head like a bulrush and to lie in sackcloth and ashes? Will you call this a fast, a day acceptable to the LORD? Is not this the fast that I choose: to loose the bonds of injustice, to undo the straps of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free, and to break every yoke? Is it not to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them and not to hide yourself from your own kin? Then your light shall break forth like the dawn, and your healing shall spring up quickly; your vindicator shall go before you; the glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard. Then you shall call, and the LORD will answer; you shall cry for help, and he will say, “Here I am.”
 
Reading   St Matthew 5:13–20
 
Jesus said:  “You are the salt of the earth, but if salt has lost its taste, how can its saltiness be restored? It is no longer good for anything but is thrown out and trampled under foot. You are the light of the world. A city built on a hill cannot be hid. People do not light a lamp put it under the bushel basket; rather they put it on the lampstand, and it gives light to all in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven. “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfil. For truly I tell you, until heaven and earth pass away, not one letter, not one stroke of a letter, will pass from the law until all is accomplished. Therefore, whoever breaks one of the least of these commandments and teaches others to do the same will be called least in the kingdom of heaven, but whoever does them and teaches them will be called great in the kingdom of heaven. For I tell you, unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.”
 
Sermon
 
This is at the heart of what it means to belong to God’s people. These are not abstract teachings. These are not lofty theological puzzles. They are earthed in the ordinary, the everyday, the things we handle without thinking: Salt. Cities. Light.
 
In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus turns to these mundane images for a reason. They are familiar enough that no one could miss the point—yet, if we listen closely, they carry a challenge that unsettles us.
 
“You are the salt of the earth,” Jesus says. Useful, necessary, preserving, sharpening, giving life flavour. Yet he presses the metaphor: salt that loses its saltiness is no longer salt. It is neither seasoning nor a preservative. It has forgotten what it is for. And so, it is thrown onto the path, where it simply becomes dust beneath other people’s feet.
 
It’s a stark picture. Because Jesus isn’t talking about the ingredients of a first-century kitchen. He’s talking about us. About the vocation of God’s people. About righteousness—not righteousness as self-importance or moral superiority, but righteousness as faithfulness to God’s call, the kind of living that makes God recognisable in the world.
 
So how is righteousness like salt? Perhaps because it is meant to make a difference. Salt without flavour is pointless; righteousness without action is equally so. And who is the salt that has lost its saltiness? That is the question Jesus leaves hanging in the air. It’s meant to make us uncomfortable enough to look at our lives and our church with honesty. Have we forgotten what we are for? Have we lost our distinctive tang? Have we become so cautious, or so weary, or so anxious about reputation, that we have lost the courage to live differently?
 
If salt unsettles us, then light reorientates us. Jesus moves from the seasoning of life to the visibility of God’s hope. A city on a hill cannot be hidden. A lamp is not lit to be buried under a basket.
Light spills. That is its nature. It illuminates more than just the lamp itself. And Jesus says: So it is to be with you. Your life, your actions, your witness are meant to shine—not so that people will admire you, but so that through you, they will glimpse God’s goodness.
 
And this is crucial: the light does not belong to us. “Let your light shine before others,” Jesus says, “so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.” Our good works are not our possession. They are the overflow of God’s grace through us. We are signs, not the source. We are conduits, not creators. We are lanterns, not the flame.
 
Which means that when we hide the light—out of fear, out of self-protection, out of a desire to remain unchallenged—we are dimming not ourselves but others’ chance to see God at work.
 
And this is where Isaiah 58 speaks so directly into Jesus’ teaching. Because Jesus is not inventing a new moral code. He is not overturning the Hebrew Scriptures. He is standing in the ancient river of God’s justice.
 
Isaiah cries out against a people who think that holiness is found in ritual alone. They fast, they bow their heads, they adopt pious postures—but they oppress their workers, quarrel and fight, and turn away from the hungry. They want the appearance of religious devotion without the cost of compassion.
 
“Is not this the fast that I choose,” says the Lord, “to loose the bonds of injustice,to undo the thongs of the yoke, to let the oppressed go free… to share your bread with the hungry…to bring the homeless poor into your house?”
 
Isaiah insists that righteousness is visible. It is salty. It flavours the lives of others. It is light that spills outward—exactly as Jesus says. When we live in this way, Isaiah promises, “your light shall break forth like the dawn.”
God’s people have always been called to this visible, justice-shaped faith.
So when Jesus speaks of salt and light, when he warns of losing our saltiness or covering our flame, he is echoing Isaiah. He is reminding the crowds—and us—that righteousness is not abstract ideals but lived trust in God’s promises. That obedience to God is not mere rule-keeping, but participation in God’s liberating work.
 
Which is why Jesus goes on to say something that must have startled his first hearers: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the law or the prophets.” No—Jesus has not come to make them irrelevant, or to replace them with something new and shiny. He is fulfilling them, drawing out their deepest intentions, bringing them to their flourishing.
 
To suggest that the Sermon on the Mount supersedes the law is, in fact, to risk losing the very saltiness Jesus calls us to keep. Because the law and the prophets testify to a God who hears the cry of the enslaved, a God who sets people free, a God whose commands are rooted in compassion and liberation. Why would Jesus mute such a trustworthy and transformative promise?
 
And yet, as the Church, sometimes we have done just that. We have spiritualised the Gospel until it no longer speaks of justice. We have turned commandments into constraints rather than signposts to abundant life. We have treated God’s law as if it were about behaviour rather than about belonging to the God of exodus and liberation.
 
For Jesus, these cannot be separated. The promise, the story, and the commandment belong together.
 
Jesus says: those who set aside even the smallest commandment—and teach others to do the same—diminish themselves and distort others. Because breaking a commandment is never just breaking a rule. It is loosening our grip on the God who saves, doubting God’s promises, stepping away from the path of life God lays before us.
This is not moralism. Jesus is not setting up a spiritual exam. This is about trust. If God is faithful—if God truly brings light out of darkness—then the life God calls us to live is not burdensome but freeing. It is the salty, luminous life that makes God visible to others.
 
Which brings us to Jesus’ closing sentence: “Unless your righteousness exceeds that of the scribes and Pharisees…”
 
Not “more rule-keeping,” not stricter obedience, not moral superiority. But a deeper alignment of the heart. A righteousness that flows from the God whose character is mercy, justice, and liberation.
 
And as we shall see next week, Jesus will push us further still. The commandments are not the ceiling of righteousness but the floor. They are the starting point, not the finish line.
 
We live in a time when the Church is watched carefully. We worry about reputation, about charitable governance, about safeguarding, about not bringing the Church into disrepute—and rightly so. But Jesus’ question remains: does our concern for reputation ever lead us to hide our light? To soften our saltiness? To avoid speaking or acting prophetically because it is safer not to?
 
Isaiah 58 and Matthew 5 together remind us that God has always called God’s people to visible, justice-shaped living. Not a righteousness we manufacture, but one that flows from God’s grace through us. Not a private piety, but a public witness. Not a safe and dim light, but a lamp that shines so others may see God.
 
Friends, the world needs that kind of Church.
 
A salty Church that preserves what is good and refuses to lose its edge.
A luminous Church that refuses to hide what God has lit within it.
A trusting Church that lives God’s righteousness out loud—feeding, welcoming, liberating, forgiving.
A Church whose very life points beyond itself to God.
May we be that Church.

May our salt not lose its flavour.
May our light shine with the radiance of God’s justice.
And may all who see our good works give glory, not to us, 
but to our Father in heaven. Amen.
 
Hymn       Brother, sister, let me serve you
Richard Gillard (born 1953) © 1977 Scripture in Song/Maranatha! OneLicence No. # A-734713 Sung by St Laurence’s Church, Chorley and used with their kind permission.

Brother, sister, let me serve you,
let me be as Christ to you;
pray that I may have the grace
to let you be my servant, too.
 
2 We are pilgrims on a journey,
and companions on the road;
we are here to help each other
walk the mile and bear the load.
 
3 I will hold the Christlight for you
in the night-time of your fear;
I will hold my hand out to you,
speak the peace you long to hear.
4 I will weep when you are weeping;
when you laugh, I’ll laugh with you;
I will share your joy and sorrow
till we’ve seen this journey through.
 
5 When we sing to God in heaven,
we shall find such harmony,
born of all we’ve known together
of Christ’s love and agony.
 
6 Brother, sister, let me serve you,
let me be as Christ to you;
pray that I may have the grace
to let you be my servant, too.

Prayers of Thanksgiving
 
Generous God, we thank you for daily blessings –
for kindness received, for strength renewed, 
for hope rediscovered in ways small and significant.
We thank you for Christ who walks beside us,
for the Spirit who empowers us,
for the Church that surrounds us with fellowship and prayer.
For the light that guides our feet
and the salt that flavours our living,
we give you thanks. Amen.
 
Prayers of Intercession
 
We pray, gracious God, for your Church throughout the world – 
may we be light bearers and truth tellers.
Where there is disappointment, 
may we shed the light of encouragement.
Where there is corruption,
may we shine the light of integrity.
Where there is uncertainty,
may we offer the light of clarity.
Where there is complacency,
may we bring the light of challenge.
Where there is rejection,
may we hold out the light of acceptance.
We pray for our world:
for peace where conflict rages,
for justice where people are silenced,
for compassion where suffering overwhelms,
for wisdom for leaders
and courage for peacemakers.
We pray for all who are unwell, all who grieve, all who are lonely,
all who fear the future.
May your healing surround them.
And we pray for ourselves:
that we may walk, pray, and serve in humility and hope,
so that others may see you in us and give you glory.
We pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.
 
Hymn        Lord, the light of your love is shining
Graham Kendrick (born 1950) © 1987 Make Way Music OneLicence No. # A-734713 
BBC Songs of Praise
 
Lord, the light 
of Your love is shining,
in the midst 
of the darkness, shining:
Jesus, Light of the world, 
shine upon us;
set us free by the truth 
You now bring us —
shine on me, shine on me.
 
Shine, Jesus, shine,
fill this land with the Father’s glory;
blaze, Spirit, blaze,
set our hearts on fire.
Flow, river, flow,
flood the nations 
with grace and mercy;
send forth Your word,
Lord, and let there be light!
 
2 As we gaze 
on Your kingly brightness
so our faces display Your likeness,
ever changing from glory to glory:
mirrored here, 
may our lives tell your story —
shine on me, shine on me.
 
Sending Out Prayer
 
May you be as salt where there is staleness;
light where there is darkness; truth where there is unbelief;
and love where there is great need.
And the blessing of God Almighty Father, Son and Holy Spirit
Be amongst us and remain with us this day and for evermore. Amen.

St Matthew 19: 1 – 8

When Jesus had finished saying these things, he left Galilee and went into the region of Judea to the other side of the Jordan.  Large crowds followed him, and he healed them there. Some Pharisees came to him to test him. They asked, “Is it lawful for a man to divorce his wife for any and every reason?”  “Haven’t you read,” he replied, “that at the beginning the Creator ‘made them male and female,’  and said, ‘For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be united to his wife, and the two will become one flesh’? So they are no longer two, but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let no one separate.”  “Why then,” they asked, “did Moses command that a man give his wife a certificate of divorce and send her away?”  Jesus replied, “Moses permitted you to divorce your wives because your hearts were hard. But it was not this way from the beginning.  I tell you that anyone who divorces his wife, except for sexual immorality, and marries another woman commits adultery.”  The disciples said to him, “If this is the situation between a husband and wife, it is better not to marry.” Jesus replied, “Not everyone can accept this word, but only those to whom it has been given.  For there are eunuchs who were born that way, and there are eunuchs who have been made eunuchs by others—and there are those who choose to live like eunuchs for the sake of the kingdom of heaven. The one who can accept this should accept it.”

Reflection

This difficult reading does not resonate with current Western culture where divorce is not seen as extraordinary and where grounds are not limited to infidelity. In the New Testament world Jewish women had a fairly high status – they could own their own homes, serve as patrons, had their own court in the Temple, had use of their own property and some could be rich (think of the woman who anointed Jesus with costly nard.) Jesus, here, seems to be following a more conservative rabbinic school which restricted divorce to adultery. I could defend Jesus by saying that he challenged the rights of men to discard their wives for only producing daughters or not being able to produce children or any other reason bar adultery but women were already reprotected financially by their marriage contracts. 

Jesus does seem to depart from mainstream Jewish thought, which strongly encouraged marriage and procreation, with his words about ‘living like a eunuch for the sake of the Kingdom’.  This Gospel was written by someone several decades after Jesus’ death and we don’t know what was in the author’s mind when he wrote it. There was a belief the Kingdom was coming soon, even within their own lifetimes, so possibly marriage was a secondary consideration compared to proclaiming the Kingdom.   We know the Gospel was written at a time of growing tension between Christians and Jews and the conflicts between Jesus and the Pharisees outlined in the Gospel should be read in the light of those tensions.

If Jesus were here today I am certain he would not have been quoted as saying anything remotely as stern sounding or judgemental as this – if he did, in fact, say it in the first place. What we do know is that Jesus’ message is one of unconditional love, forgiveness, peace, and compassion; it is about loving and caring relationships that reach out to all regardless of status, wealth, age or gender and is without any prejudice whatsoever.

Prayer

Loving and compassionate God,
Jesus teaches us that love transcends all divides.
By Jesus’ life we see his uncompromising
and irrepressible love freely given for all people,
never giving up even on those who opposed him.
Let us today learn to love as Jesus loved!
And open our ears and eyes to those who need our love today.

Amen 

St Matthew 18: 21 – 35

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times. “Therefore, the kingdom of heaven is like a king who wanted to settle accounts with his servants. As he began the settlement, a man who owed him ten thousand bags of gold was brought to him.  Since he was not able to pay, the master ordered that he and his wife and his children and all that he had be sold to repay the debt. “At this the servant fell on his knees before him. ‘Be patient with me,’ he begged, ‘and I will pay back everything.’  The servant’s master took pity on him, canceled the debt and let him go. “But when that servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred silver coins.  He grabbed him and began to choke him. ‘Pay back what you owe me!’ he demanded. “His fellow servant fell to his knees and begged him, ‘Be patient with me, and I will pay it back.’ “But he refused. Instead, he went off and had the man thrown into prison until he could pay the debt. When the other servants saw what had happened, they were outraged and went and told their master everything that had happened. “Then the master called the servant in. ‘You wicked servant,’ he said, ‘I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to.  Shouldn’t you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?’  In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. “This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Reflection

The scale of the servant’s extraordinary, unpayable, debt (more accurately rendered 10,000 talents) in this story is extraordinary.

A single talent was worth six thousand denarii and a single denarius was a day’s wage for a jobbing labourer. One talent then, or one ‘bag of gold’ was equivalent to about 20-years-worth of wages – a full lifetime’s worth in those days.

The sum of ten thousand talents exceeds even the sort of imperial tribute demanded of an entire province. The amount is supposed to be shocking.

In Roman provinces like Judea local elites collected taxes on behalf of Rome, using a practise known as ‘tax farming.’

Wealthy individuals, known as a publicans, would pledge to pay the required tax for an area, and that would give them the right to collect taxation from the inhabitants of that area – anything over and above what they had already paid out was for them to keep. Alternatively, if there was a shortfall, they were liable. It operated in a pyramid model, with agents licensed to collect from specific areas on the same basis. 

This story reflects that reality, here a tax farmer is unable to pay the enormous sum demanded of him. The mercy shown to this publican is radical and offers the opportunity for a reversal of circumstances, but the tax farmer fails to replicate it to his agent, he fails to extend that mercy he received – instead multiplying the oppression on those below him. There is no ‘trickle down’ mercy in exploitation systems – only cruelty.

As Jesus travelled around encouraging the formation of communities based on mutual support, love, and care, he was keen to explain and demonstrate that true forgiveness of debts cannot simply be a transaction – it must be an act of radical solidarity. Mercy cannot be simply personal, it must be structural.

According to Jesus’ teaching here, systems of debt and punishment are the opposite to the ways of God’s kingdom, where justice is restorative not retributive.

Prayer

God your kingdom values
subvert the exploitation of our time.
You call us to lives of radical grace,
to enact systems of justice,
to think differently,
and to live differently.
Help us to see
the way that people are exploited and oppressed.
Lead us out of such systems,
into a way of living that speaks
of different values, different priorities.
Lead us, most of all God,
to prioritise love over all.
Amen

St Matthew 18: 15 – 20

“If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault, just between the two of you. If they listen to you, you have won them over.  But if they will not listen, take one or two others along, so that ‘every matter may be established by the testimony of two or three witnesses.’  If they still refuse to listen, tell it to the church; and if they refuse to listen even to the church, treat them as you would a pagan or a tax collector. “Truly I tell you, whatever you bind on earth will be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven. “Again, truly I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything they ask for, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven.  For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

Reflection

The records of one of our churches in the 18th century recalled the departure of members – in many cases a date of death together with the text and synopsis of the Funeral sermon: in others a note that they had moved to “distant parts” but for a few the fate was worse – one man was dismissed for “walking disorderly with Baptists.”

Matthew was writing for and reflecting the experience of local churches that he knew; our text is one of two instances where the word “church” is used – a term that Jesus is unlikely to have used during his earthly ministry; Gospel writers had no verbatim transcript of what Jesus had said but shared the understanding of his teaching that developed among believers, among whom there were those whose human failings caused concern. It seems clear that churches known to Matthew had no authority figure with disciplinary power but acted in a conciliar way. An offended believer should try and resolve matters quietly but, failing to do so, should take others to witness the discussion, which could become a confrontation, uncomfortable for those truly trying to follow in the way of Jesus.

But what are we to make of the phrase, “let such a one be to you as a Gentile and a tax-collector”? This suggests that Matthew was unfamiliar with Gentile congregations and those like Zacchaeus who features in Luke’s Gospel. The harshness of these words is uncomfortable but does alert us to the need to be clear and firm when the health and integrity of a local congregation is compromised.

We rightly treasure the words, “where two or three are gathered in my name, I am there among them.” As Christians we are called to support and encourage each other – our Lord is with us as we meet, wherever and whenever: no need for specific places or formally appointed leaders, but there is a need for fellowship with other Christians.

Prayer

Lord Jesus Christ,
we pray that you will help and guide us
so that our lives may never cause others to stumble
but that our example helps others find the right path
with your light shining brightly in your Church. Amen

4 February 2026