The command ‘do not worry’ (Matt 6:25) is very direct and specific. Worry is defined as feeling anxious or troubled about actual or potential problems. We human beings are very good at worrying. It’s probably the default mode for many people, and largely arises because we like to be in control of things but have to face the fact that there are so many things in life which we can’t control. This creates tension in us and the inevitable consequence of wanting to live as masters of our own destinies leads to problems, with worry, anxiety and fear being the most usual outcomes.

Jesus reminded us in this passage (Matt 6:25-34) that to worry about these basics of life is not what God wants, focussing our attention on the spiritual as well as the physical: ‘Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes?’ (Matt 6:25) Yet He does not despise the physical and is well aware of our material needs, reminding us that the God who cares for the sparrow and wildflowers will surely provide for us (see also Phil 4:19). As Corrie Ten Boom said, “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow, it empties today of its strength”, so it is important for us to live in the security of a relationship with a loving heavenly Father if we are to live without worry.

This morning at our morning service, we were privileged to hear about the charity Africa’s Gift. 

Ken Dunn, former deputy headteacher of a Sheffield school, set up this charity some years ago and now works in many countries in Africa, including Lesotho, South Africa, Tanzania, Malawi and Zambia. He spoke about the practical difficulties encountered in something as basic as cooking everyday food, since this has to be done in a cooking pot which involved women walking miles to gather firewood and water and then having to cook for 3-4 hours. Such a method involves smoke inhalation, which is one of the primary causes of death in the area.

The charity works to supply rural villages with cooking pots, which effectively mean that there is no smoke from cooking and people can leave the pot to cook without having to stay there all the time. This enables people to do other things and many women use this additional time to make beautiful jewellery.

A business has now been set up so that these cooking pots can be fabricated in the countries themselves by local people so that they can be helped further. Africa’s Gift also works to plant trees and to help with education, involving schools, university students and church members in mission trips.

Check out the website for further details. We are happy to collect shoes which can be used to raise money for the charity.

Ken Dunn from the charity Africa’s Gift will be speaking at GPCC on Sunday 30th January at the 10.30 a.m. service. Africa’s Gift supports largely rural communities in southern Africa (principally Lesotho, South Africa, Tanzania, Zambia, and Malawi) and Uganda, working closely with community members to effect change through the development of practical solutions to clearly identified needs. You can read more about the charity here.

Ken and his wife Karen (who works at Furlong Road Methodist Church in Bolton-on-Dearne and is a member of Dearne Churches Together) live locally and we are excited to find out more about this charity. Ken will be bringing a pop-up shop of items made in Lesotho and will be showing a video of the work they do in different areas. They are also involved in taking teams of students and volunteers to help on practical projects in these countries.

An allusion is a reference, typically brief, to a person, place, thing, event, or other literary work with which the reader is presumably familiar. As a literary device, allusion allows a writer to compress a great deal of meaning and significance into a word or phrase. However, allusions are only effective to the extent that they are recognised and understood by the reader, and that they are properly inferred and interpreted by the reader. If an allusion is obscure or misunderstood, it can lose effectiveness by confusing the reader.

Some common allusions in frequent use nowadays include phrases like ‘If I’m not home by midnight, my car might turn into a pumpkin’ (a reference to the fairy story, ‘Cinderella’, where the heroine’s carriage to the ball is the result of a magic spell on a pumpkin, but where the magic only lasts until midnight) or speaking about a weakness as ‘my Achilles’ heel’ (alluding to the one weakness of Achilles in Classical mythology.) Such phrases are completely meaningless without the background story (Why should a car turn into a pumpkin? How can you have a heel belonging to someone else?), but are extremely evocative and effective if you know the things to which the phrase alludes. Allusion acts as a binding agent, giving people the pleasure of shared knowledge and unity, using language in a coded way that goes way beyond the surface meaning of words.

‘The day of the Lord’ is a phrase which features frequently in the Bible, to the extent that its New Testament usage relies heavily on allusion. To those soaked in the Scriptures, the phrase is shorthand for all kinds of things: judgment, destruction, darkness, God’s intervention in human history in ways that are nothing short of miraculous, the final righting of wrongs for which we all long. To fully understand what this phrase means (delving deeper into its meaning than saying ‘the Lord’s day’, meaning Sunday, would imply), we need the mindset of the prophets who were the main writers using this phrase, but we also need to see how the coming of Jesus and the victory He has won redefined and reshaped this phrase. Such a study is important, because the phrase is used so frequently in the Bible that it’s clearly important!

January in England is a long, dreary month. The excitement of December, with its Christmas celebrations and holiday period, twinkling lights, merry music and festive decorations, not to mention the tempting aromas of baking and cooking, give way to the hard slog of winter. Grey skies, darkness, cold weather, mizzling rain and biting frosts remain, but there seems nothing to alleviate the monotony. Many people, paid early in December, find the financial burden of January a heavy weight. Doom and gloom seem more natural bedfellows. Spring beckons, to be sure, but it’s a long time to March!

Pessimism, doubt and despair hang over January like the gossamer threads of a spider’s web clinging to us cloyingly. The occasional bright blue sky promises much, but rarely seems to linger. We are in the middle of winter and only the occasional snowdrop with its delicate white perfection reminds us life is not done yet.

Eugene Peterson, in meditating on the word ‘Hallelujah’ (‘praise God’) writes, ‘we were not created for curse and gloom. We were not put together to live in despair and melancholy.’ (‘This Hallelujah Banquet’, P 147)

Praising God is easy in the good times, ‘when the sun’s shining down on me and the world’s all as it should be’, as Matt Redman puts it (‘Blessed Be Your Name’). But praising God is not confined to the good times. It’s a remarkable fact that the people of God are called to sing and praise God in all circumstances (1 Thess 5:16-18), and the book of Revelation, as well as the rest of history, testify that singing and praising God goes on during the dark times as well as when all is well. This is possible becuase ‘grace and love are the centres of existence.’ (ibid., P 149) Doom and gloom, melancholy and misery, do not have the final word. ‘Hallelujah’ can become our first and last word, a universal word that transcends the limitations of different languages, as we shape our language and life around the truth of God. God is the reality of life, therefore ‘Hallelujah‘ can be our daily response to life, even in January!

In our series looking at questions God asks us, we have seen that God does not ask questions out of ignorance as we do. Sometimes, He asks questions to challenge us, to make us question things which perhaps would otherwise have passed us by and to dig deeper into our own motivation and the motivation of others. Sometimes, He also asks rhetorical questions (‘a question asked to make a point, rather than get an answer’), and this is the kind of question asked in Jer 32:27, when God asks Jeremiah, ‘Is anything too hard for me?’

We might feel that rhetorical questions are pointless. It would have been just as easy to say, ‘Nothing is too hard for me’, but somehow, by asking questions, we are invited to reflect and reach a conclusion; we are even drawn into the conclusion. In Shakespeare’s play The Merchant of Venice (which looks at the divide between the Jewish and Christian faiths), questions are used to highlight the fact that all humans are the same regardless of their religion: ‘If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh?’ As we reflect on the fact that people are all fundamentally the same despite differences in colour or religion, we are able to reach this conclusion without feeling that it has been forced upon us.

God uses rhetorical questions to engage us in debate and to ensure that there is no dissonance between head knowledge and heart knowledge. It’s easy to believe that God is all-powerful from a theoretical point of view, but God wants more than head knowledge. He wants this truth to permeate every area of our lives and for us to acknowledge in our lives as well as in our speech that He is the God of the impossible.