This year I have been leading a Bible study at our church on
Luke’s gospel. We’ve been slowly reading through the twenty-four chapters of
this gospel and seeking to listen to God’s voice throughout this process. It’s
been really beneficial to take our time and not rush the process through. As a long
distance runner I know the benefit of the “long slow run” in my training. There’s
also great benefit in a “long slow read” of Scripture as well.
It was particularly exciting and challenging to come to the
climax of the narrative – the crucifixion, death, burial and resurrection of Jesus.
Throughout the gospel we observed Luke’s particular emphasis on those who are
on the fringe of society, Jesus’ fixated “journey to Jerusalem” (from 9:51
onwards), and the tension that builds between Jesus and the religious leaders
of his time. None of that was particularly new to me, but the benefit of
reading and absorbing this once again has not been futile. What has stood out,
though, as we read through …
On Monday 7 August, 2017, I had the privilege of leading the Thanksgiving Service for my wife's Nana's funeral; Joyce Estelle Smyth. This was an immense privelege for me. I thought I would share here the sermon that I had prepared for that occasion. I hope you find it helpful. _______________________
I was 17 and Megan was 15 when
we started going out at Music Camp in September of 1994. A week into our
relationship Megan rang me to say she was going shopping for her Year 10 formal
dress with her mother, Pam and Nana; would I like to come? Being young and in
love I immediately said yes. Now, there are some here today who knew me at the
time and you may recall that these were the days, being 17, when I had long
hair, was tough and knew everything. Oh, the things that time robs us of.
It's been 10 years since the disastrous events of my honeymoon and in that time I've told this story plenty of times, but have never actually sat down to write it out. I thought that since it's now 10 years since my diagnosis I would take the time to write out what happened to my wife and I on what was supposed to be a celebration of our new marriage...
So here goes...
Megan and I were married on the 18th March, 2000 having been together since 1994. Megan was 15 when we started going out at The Salvation Army's Music Camp and I was 17. We've been together ever since. The weather on that mid-March Saturday was a scorching 35 degrees. The men in the bridal party had been out playing golf the day before and we all got sunburnt. So I was feeling a little tired as a result, and so the night before the wedding I had gone to bed early. I remember my sister-in-law, Kate, had made the boys lunch - lasagne... yum! But strangely, I didn't eat it all. Anyone who knows me…