The news at the moment is not fun. There are wars, there is conflict – at home as well as abroad – there is hunger, there is fear. There is so much tough stuff, that the good stuff barely gets a mention, and all that tough stuff feels insurmountable.

What can we do to change that? What difference can we realistically make in a world that is crying out for peace, for security, for recognition, for an end to violence and hunger? And why bother, our voices are small…

What difference indeed? 

But – on 09 October 1989, despite the danger of death, and in the face of armed police, thousands came together at the church of St Nicholas in an East German city to pray for peace. Afterwards, they joined with around 70,000 demonstrators and walked through Leipzig, to object the country’s communist government. One month later, amid more prayer and peaceful demonstration, the Berlin Wall began to fall.  The power of prayer is a wonderful thing – and being together whilst we do it makes it even more potent.

I’m not a particularly political beast, and I certainly wouldn’t begin to make assertions here about who anyone should vote for in a democratic election. Of course I have opinions about what’s wrong, about how it could be changed, and about who needs to make that change happen, but that’s not what I’m called to do here.

What I am called to do here is pray – and I believe that the world we currently live in could benefit from some open, focussed, and public prayer. I believe this for us as individuals, for us as a church family, for us all as members of our local communities, and for everyone who is a citizen of the planet.

A few weeks ago, after Morning Prayer, we talked about Prayer Vigils and the effects they can have – we need one here, we thought…and so…on Saturday 08 November we’re going to do that very thing – we’re going to hold a Prayer for Peace Vigil.

I’m not suggesting that we can attract the same crowds that that Leipzig church did, 34 years ago, although you never know, but I’d like to think that we can make a start.

That we can provide a space for people to come and lay before God their fears for the world, their concerns, their grief, their anger – and their hopes. That we can give people a space to come and grieve the tough stuff, and a space to come and lay their yearning for peace.

And, if you’re reading this after Saturday 08 November, don’t feel that you’ve missed something; the prayer will continue, and St Giles is open every day, with its Prayer Space, ready to hold your fears for the world, your concerns, your grief, your anger, and your yearning for peace. 

SPECIAL DATES FOR YOUR DIARY:

  • Sunday 30 November, 6.30pm – Advent Praise; a service of readings and hymns on the themes of hope and anticipation, as we mark the beginning of our preparations to celebrate Christmas
  • Sunday 02 November, 4.30pm – All Souls; a quiet service where we remember those whom we love but see no more – followed by light refreshments
  • Saturday 08 November, 10.00am to 2.00pm – Prayer for Peace Vigil; come and go as you wish
  • Sunday 09 November, 9.30am – Sung Eucharist for Remembrance Day
  • Sunday 09 November, 3.00pm – Matlock Civic Remembrance Parade and Service at Park Head
  • Sunday 30 November, 10.00am – United Parishes service at Tansley; there will be no service at St Giles this morning

Rev’d Katrina Jenkins, is Priest-in-Charge of Matlock St Giles and Dethick, Lea and Holloway, Diocese of Derby. Come to Sung Eucharist held every Sunday at 9.30 am, where you can meet her. She invites you to join her for Morning Prayer at 8 am on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. There is also a Said Eucharist at 10 am every Thursday and 8.30 am every Saturday. Refreshments will be served after the Sunday service. As always, you will be very welcome to any or all of our services.

In the time since I arrived back in Matlock from my annual visit to the Holy Island of Lindisfarne I have been pondering the nature and purpose of journeys. The word journey is frequently used in popular culture to describe a time of personal growth or change and, to be frank, I sometimes tire of hearing “it’s been quite the journey” when someone’s talking about a time of trial. This irritation set me to consider the root of the word, and I was somewhat pleased to find that it comes from the Latin diurmus, which refers to “day”, and arrives in Old English via the French journée, taken to mean “a day’s travel”. 

In St Mary’s Church on Holy Island is a wonderful wooden sculpture of six monks carrying the coffin of their Prior, one St Cuthbert. His remains were carried far and wide around the ancient Kingdom of Northumberland before they arrived in Durham, where a Cathedral was built around them. In a time when buses were yet to be dreamt of (Cuthbert died in 687) the journey his coffin was taken on really was measured in units of “a day’s travel”, and the monks carrying him had to be content with a slow and measured pace; in the words of Lena Martell’s 1979 hit, they could only go “one day at a time, sweet Jesus”.

The faces of the monks in the sculpture speak volumes; they are faces of the determined, the stoic, the grieving, and they appear to be looking far into the distance. Are their eyes fixed on their eventual destination, or on the fall of their next step?

I always greet them when I visit, and say goodbye as I leave, gently placing my hand in each of theirs – they are a part of my Holy Island journey as much as they are a part of Cuthbert’s.

Of course, journeys can be made for many reasons. They can be a necessary evil, the means by which we get to a “thing” (which is rather how I feel about flying), they can be a part of the “thing” (having a leisurely drive to a skiing holiday perhaps), or they can be the “thing” itself (taking a cruise). Whatever your reason for taking a journey this month, my prayer for you is that it is filled with the same peace that my journey to Lindisfarne gives to me, and that, when you arrive, you are able to fully appreciate the journey you have been on…physical or emotional.

This time last year, we at St Giles were just getting over marking the 105th birthday of a member of our congregation. Henry had worshipped at the church for considerably longer than most of the people at his party had been alive, and we and his family and friends wanted to celebrate him; the photographs of the event confirm that much fun was had by all.

Being Henry, he didn’t want a present; he opted instead to ask for money, which he immediately gifted to St Giles. We decided that we would put these funds to good use, enabling us to have something that we could point at and say, “Henry”.

With that gift, so generously made by Henry, we were able to purchase 12 Bibles, which sit in the Lady Chapel, and to commission a Prayer Board for the church.

Our new Prayer Board is a thing of beauty. It waits by the candle stands, ready to receive the prayers, thoughts, pleas, aches and pains, joys, and thanksgivings of our visitors, whether just passing through or part of the regular congregation, and the prayers that are left there are taken and prayed aloud before God at our Thursday morning service of Holy Communion.

Putting prayer in writing can be of great worth; it can make us think properly about what we want to say to God, although it is also helpful to know that crossings out, musings, and garbled messages are as much allowed as the most beautifully prepared words.

Leaving a prayer on a Prayer Board, or a Prayer Tree, means that the writer is not alone – they enter into a relationship with those who went before them, and those who come after, perhaps taking a few moments to read what’s been written, perhaps saying quietly the words they are reading, perhaps with their own card to add. All of this activity creates a community of prayer, gathered although separate, together although apart.

Next time you’re passing St Giles, why not pop in and see the Prayer Board; it’s sitting there waiting…..is it waiting for you?

Rev’d Katrina Jenkins, is Priest-in-Charge of Matlock, St Giles and Dethick, Lea and Holloway, Diocese of Derby. Come to Sung Eucharist held every Sunday at 9.30 am, where you can meet her. She invites you to join her for Morning Prayer at 8 am on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays. There is also a Said Eucharist at 10 am every Thursday and 8.30 am every Saturday. Refreshments will be served after the Sunday service. As always, you will be very welcome to any or all of our services.

The weeks running up to this April have been a time of great anticipation in the Jenkins House because, during the week after Easter, our house in Surrey is having its new windows fitted – and we’re very much looking forward to being able to look up the garden with our view unhindered by misty glass and “blown” double glazing units – it’s very exciting.

Sadly, before the wonderful views are revealed to us, the house will go through a period of great discomfort, as the old windows are removed, and the rooms are left open to the elements, albeit for only a few hours; we can only hope that the weather doesn’t cause us too many problems…The good thing is, we recognise that the relative pain of having no windows will be short-lived, because we know the new windows are waiting in the wings.

But what about the disciples, on Good Friday and Holy Saturday? Their windows had been removed – Jesus had died on the cross and been buried in a tomb. They had been confident that more was on the way in their relationship with Jesus, but they didn’t know it would be this removal, this taking away of the thing that enabled them to feel safe and warm. What must they have felt like when there was no longer anything to protect them from the elements?

Their few hours of being left open to the elements must have been dreadful, with no end in sight – what were they to do now? Thankfully, those hours passed and, early in the morning on the Sunday, the first day of the week, it was discovered that Jesus, having died, had risen for the dead and was waiting to walk and talk with them again.

Suddenly they had new and improved windows. Suddenly they had a new perspective and were able to properly see the view that the old windows had suggested was there. A view which shows that God, meeting us in Jesus, dies for us, and waits to raise us to new life with him – and the new life that we are given is full of beauty and joy. The view is no longer misty and dull, it is clear and bright.My prayer for you this Easter, and beyond, is that your windows allow you to see clearly and brightly into a future filled with God’s love for you. 

As we enter March, our thoughts turn immediately to preparation for Easter (Ash Wednesday, signalling the start of Lent, is on 5th March).

Many people use Lent as a time of consideration, of contemplation, or of re-setting (especially if their New Year’s resolution honeymoon period is over). Cutting out chocolate and alcohol though is only half the story…what are we going to do instead of enjoying those small indulgences? Substituting a low-fat digestive biscuit for a jam doughnut rather defeats the object of denial…something that a work colleague (not a Christian) pointed out to me one year, when I tried that very thing…”Surely Lent isn’t meant to be a sort of holy Weight Watchers…” he said….ouch – and thank you for the reminder. Nowadays, I try to spend the time I would have spent eating my doughnut sitting in conversation with God instead.

What is your Lent going to look like? What are you going to do “instead”?

Well, the dust has finally settled on the Christmas and New Year break, the decorations have been put away, the children are back at school, and summer holiday plans may be being made.

As I write, we are experiencing the most peculiar weather. This last week has had a bit of everything, and I am presently watching the birds try to find something to eat underneath the snow. There is promise of flooding as the snow melts, and a freeze is anticipated, which  will possibly cause even more problems. All this, I hope, will be a distant memory as you are reading…

February should be a month full of promise, as new shoots come through, and crocuses and daffodils begin to make their presence felt; I can remember, as a child, being thrilled that half-term was in the middle of February, and I wouldn’t have to get up early to get to school…for a whole week…so there was always something to look forward to. But for some of us the continuance of the cold weather and the still dark evenings hold no prospect of joy whatsoever. Even Valentine’s Day, with all its promise of chocolates and flowers, can be a trial if you’re feeling alone or vulnerable.

And it is into that vulnerability that God speaks, when he uses the prophet Isaiah to tell His created beings – that’s you and me – that we should not be afraid. In verses from Chapter 43 of the prophet’s book in the Bible, he says:

“…I have called you by name, you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you….
For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Saviour….you are precious in my sight, and honoured, and I love you.”

That is one of my favourite passages from the Bible – the promise it holds is immense, and we have to do nothing to benefit from it…it is God’s promise to us. God’s not telling us that we won’t have bad times or that it’ll all be plain sailing…no, but He is saying that, when those dark days are upon us, when we’re finding life difficult, when we’re feeling the February Blues, He will be right there with us, in the mess, in the sadness, in the rubble, because He loves us, because He honours us, and because we are precious in His sight…because you are precious in His sight.

My prayer for you all is that you spend February – and beyond – knowing that you are precious, that you are honoured, and that you are loved.