43 Just as he was speaking, Judas, one of the Twelve, appeared. With him was a crowd armed with swords and clubs, sent from the chief priests, the teachers of the law, and the elders.

44 Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them: “The one I kiss is the man; arrest him and lead him away under guard.” 45 Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, “Rabbi!” and kissed him. 46 The men seized Jesus and arrested him. 47 Then one of those standing near drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

48 “Am I leading a rebellion,” said Jesus, “that you have come out with swords and clubs to capture me? 49 Every day I was with you, teaching in the temple courts, and you did not arrest me. But the Scriptures must be fulfilled.” 50 Then everyone deserted him and fled.

51 A young man, wearing nothing but a linen garment, was following Jesus. When they seized him, 52 he fled naked, leaving his garment behind.

- Mark 14:43–52

This passage explores one of the most poignant and painful moments in the life of Jesus—his betrayal by a friend, his refusal to retaliate, and the abandonment he experienced from those closest to him. We see Jesus receive Judas’ kiss, endure Peter’s misguided attempt at violence, and watch as all his disciples flee into the night.

It’s a story that still speaks powerfully today. Many of us know the sting of betrayal, or the urge to take control when things fall apart. Some of us are carrying shame for the times we’ve run from responsibility, distanced ourselves from faith, or let fear dictate our choices. This passage invites us to see ourselves in the story—and more importantly, to see Jesus’ response.

Jesus does not lash out. He does not abandon his mission. He chooses the path of surrender, even when it costs everything. In doing so, he opens the door to forgiveness—not just for those in the garden that night, but for each of us.

Wherever you are in your journey—wounded, weary, or wandering—this message reminds us that grace is still extended. Jesus stayed so we could come home. Whether you’ve been betrayed, wielded the sword, or fled in fear, the invitation remains: come back to the One who never left.

They went to a place called Gethsemane, and Jesus said to his disciples, “Sit here while I pray.” He took Peter, James and John along with him, and he began to be deeply distressed and troubled. “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” he said to them. “Stay here and keep watch.”

Going a little farther, he fell to the ground and prayed that if possible the hour might pass from him. “Abba, Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. “Simon,” he said to Peter, “are you asleep? Couldn’t you keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
- Mark 14:32-38

There are two cups in Mark 14: the cup that all the disciples drink from—the cup of the new covenant—and the cup that Jesus will drink from. The latter is an Old Testament image representing God's judgment:

"Awake, awake! Rise up, Jerusalem, you who have drunk from the hand of the LORD the cup of his wrath, you who have drained to its dregs the goblet that makes people stagger." (Isaiah 51:17)

The idea of judgment as a cup to be drunk originates from the rebellion of Israel at the foot of Mount Sinai. While Moses is on the mountain receiving the Ten Commandments—which begin with the commands not to worship other gods or make idols—the people below are doing exactly that: making an idol and worshipping it. In response, Moses grinds up the idol, sprinkles the powder into the water, and makes them drink it. Symbolically, they are forced to consume the consequences of their idolatry.

Will we experience the consequences of our sin? No. At the heart of the Christian faith is the belief that Jesus takes upon himself the consequences of human rebellion. He drinks the cup of wrath so that those who trust in him do not have to. Instead, we are given the cup of grace—a gift that combines not receiving what we deserve (judgment) with receiving what we do not deserve (eternal life in the love of God).

While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, “Take it; this is my body.”

Then he took a cup, and when he had given thanks, he gave it to them, and they all drank from it.

“This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,” he said to them. “Truly I tell you, I will not drink again from the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God.”
- Mark 14:22-25

The seder feast dating back to the first Passover involved unleavened bread and wine. The bread reminded them of the haste they had to leave Egypt, the wine reminding them of the joy of liberation. Jesus made connections between his new Christian ceremony and the whole of the Hebrew past. Jesus lifted up something from their past (the Exodus) and extended it. He set up something new, something for the future (for the new community).

Even briefly looking at a few of the many themes that Jesus packed densely into this feast can be overwhelming. These things are there not with the expectation we will all understand everything immediately. It is a call to meditate on these words during the week, meditate on Easter, think of Jesus' passion so that as we come to the table our experience will become richer. This table is a place we can come back to again and again for a lifetime knowing that in every weekly cycle there will be another beauty to see, more depths to gaze at.

Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘Take it; this is my body.’

We must stop and make ourselves aware of a sense of sacredness at this point, of something that must be treated with utmost respect, we must position ourselves properly to be in the presence of a holy God.

‘This is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many,’ he said to them.

Here we have a link to a core theme of the Hebrew bible: covenant. This goes all the way back to the first pages of the bible, to Noah and Abraham, the people at Mt. Sinai and King David - a formal partnership between God and humanity.

The first Passover feast was celebrated before the Exodus, before the liberation of the people because their identity was to be the people who were liberated from slavery by Yahweh. This table is to form our identity. We become the people who participate in the feast. It must form our past and become our future.

Many years ago I read a Jewish saying and ever since it has stuck with me and become a formative part of my life. It goes “The Jews didn't keep the Sabbath, the Sabbath kept the Jews.” In other words the Sabbath formed their identity as the people who kept God’s Sabbath. And through this formation they endured. It is the same with this table. We need the table. It is through the table we are formed. We don't do God a favour by keeping this table. But the table forms Christ in us and keeps us.

“But about that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but only the Father. Be on guard! Be alert! You do not know when that time will come. It’s like a man going away: He leaves his house and puts his servants in charge, each with their assigned task, and tells the one at the door to keep watch.

“Therefore keep watch because you do not know when the owner of the house will come back—whether in the evening, or at midnight, or when the rooster crows, or at dawn. If he comes suddenly, do not let him find you sleeping. What I say to you, I say to everyone: ‘Watch!’”

Mark 13:32-37

Jesus offers us a warning to be watchful for his return and being ready—not in a paranoid way, but in a way that keeps us spiritually awake and prepared.

He does this by comparing it to a master who goes away and could come back at any time. The point? No one knows when—not even the angels or Jesus Himself while He was on Earth. That means we shouldn’t get caught up in predicting dates or listening to people who claim they have secret knowledge. Instead, Jesus calls us to stay faithful, live with purpose, and focus on what really matters—prayer, repentance, loving others, and sharing His message.

Being watchful doesn’t mean living in fear, but rather staying spiritually aware, like keeping your house in order before a surprise visit. It’s easy to put things off, but if we truly believe in Jesus' return, our lives should reflect that—right now, not just someday. And if we ever find ourselves getting lost in distractions, Bonhoeffer’s words are a great reminder: Don’t wake up one day and realize you’ve lost your soul in the busyness of life.

So, the takeaway? Don’t worry about predicting the future—just stay awake, stay faithful, and live as people of the Day.

Jesus said to them: “Watch out that no one deceives you. Many will come in my name, claiming, ‘I am he,’ and will deceive many. When you hear of wars and rumours of wars, do not be alarmed. Such things must happen, but the end is still to come.
Mark 13:5-7

Mark 13 begins with the disciples marvelling at the grandeur of the Jerusalem temple. Yet Jesus had already condemned it: “Is it not written: ‘My house will be called a house of prayer for all nations’? But you have made it ‘a den of robbers.’” Now, he prophesies its destruction—not one stone will be left upon another. When the disciples ask when this will happen, Jesus answers.

The imagery in Mark 13 refers to the fall of the Temple, not the end of the world. Yet it prompts us to consider how disciples should endure upheaval. We may not be witnessing the world’s end, but we may be seeing the collapse of familiar structures.

Some of what we admire may be what God is dismantling—or allowing to fall. Yet this is no call to despair or withdrawal. Christians are called to pray for leaders, seek reform, and work for the common good, even when the church appears not to prevail. Jesus warned of trials and persecution; faithfulness comes at a cost. To declare “Jesus is Lord” is to reject false messiahs and worldly systems that demand our ultimate allegiance.

But faithfulness is not isolation. The church does not exist for its own sake but to bring life to the world, as Jesus did. Every community is surrounded by deep needs—addiction, loneliness, broken families. The church must engage, listen, and respond with meaningful action.

At the end of a world, we are still called to love—our neighbours and our enemies. Like the exiles in Babylon, we build, plant, and live with hope. Nations will rise against nations, but the kingdom of God remains our true foundation.

Jesus called his disciples to him and said, “I tell you the truth, this poor widow has given more than all the others who are making contributions. For they gave a tiny part of their surplus, but she, poor as she is, has given everything she had to live on.”
Mark 12: 43-44

This portrait of the poor widow can be alarming.

I love her radical trust in God, her radical generosity but also…

This lady is off her rocker!

I need my money. I’ve got kids. A mortgage. I need to eat. There are so many situations I have to take into account when it comes to how I spend my money.

And so, I dismiss her example as an impossible ideal.

Because if I don’t dismiss her story and do so quickly the gap between what I say and what I do might begin to trouble me.

The starting point of how we might begin to live into the radical freedom of the widow is that we realise we cannot.

And we encounter the God who can. A God who put his Spirit in us so that we can live in a manner worthy of all that he has done for us.

We are all called to be fully alive, full of trust and radically generous.

Avoid the temptation to water down the passage by making it abstract. It's an example of being radically different with how we use our money to the culture around us.

Draw near to the presence of God - at church with one another and through reading Scripture. Righten your perspective of your relationship with God whether for the first time or the hundredth time. Then IN right relationship with him, listen and obey.

Ask God and look for the simple next step you can take into a life of radical trust in the abundance and generosity of God.

One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?”

“The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.’ The second is this: ‘Love your neighbour as yourself.’ There is no commandment greater than these.”
- Mark 12:28-31

Loving God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength means dedicating every aspect of our being to Him. Jesus, when asked about the greatest commandment, quoted the Shema from Deuteronomy, emphasizing that love for God must be complete and all-encompassing.

The heart represents our affections and desires, meaning our love for God should be supreme, guiding our emotions and priorities. The soul reflects our identity and spiritual devotion, calling us to surrender fully to God and live with an eternal perspective. The mind engages with truth and understanding, encouraging us to seek wisdom, wrestle with faith, and grow in discernment. Finally, our strength signifies our actions—how we serve, obey, and reflect God’s love in our daily lives. True love for God is not passive; it requires intentionality in worship, study, and service.

Loving God naturally leads to loving others, as emphasized in the second greatest commandment: to love our neighbors as ourselves. Our faith is demonstrated in how we treat people, reflecting God’s love through kindness, forgiveness, and service. C.S. Lewis noted that acting in love often leads to genuine love, reinforcing that love is not just a feeling but a practice.

To deepen our love for God, we must regularly reflect on whether we are devoting our whole being to Him—heart, soul, mind, and strength. This commitment transforms our relationships and daily actions, making our lives a testament to God’s love. As we grow in love for Him, we become better equipped to love others, fulfilling His greatest commandments.

Later the leaders sent some Pharisees and supporters of Herod to trap Jesus into saying something for which he could be arrested. “Teacher,” they said, “we know how honest you are. You are impartial and don’t play favorites. You teach the way of God truthfully. Now tell us—is it right to pay taxes to Caesar or not? Should we pay them, or shouldn’t we?”
Jesus saw through their hypocrisy and said, “Why are you trying to trap me? Show me a Roman coin, and I’ll tell you.” When they handed it to him, he asked, “Whose picture and title are stamped on it?”
“Caesar’s,” they replied.
“Well, then,” Jesus said, “give to Caesar what belongs to Caesar, and give to God what belongs to God.”
His reply completely amazed them.
- Mark 12:13-17

Give back to Caesar what is Caesar's and to God what is God's is a subtle but pointed way of implying Caesar wasn't Lord, Jesus was. Caesar had real power, he oversaw an amazing economic system that was greater than anything else in the world for hundreds perhaps a 1000 years afterwards. The denarius was a symbol of that system and the Jews and the Christians afterwards who lived in the empire were expected to participate by the rules of the system that Caesar set. Give back to Caesar what is Caesar's

But the Jews knew that God was the creator and sustainer of the universe. Everything belongs to God, so that anything that Caesar had, must only be Ceasar's in a secondary sense. Give to God what is God's. We owe all to God.

We regularly miss an important factor here. We think "Jesus is Lord" is just a private religious statement. But in those times there was no distinction between politics and religion. To say Jesus is Lord is just as unambiguously a political statement as saying "Keir Starmer is our Prime Minister". Without really thinking about it, how often do we descend into the de facto position that because the kingdom of God doesn't have the equivalent of HMRC the second half of these words don't apply anymore.

"Give to God what is God's" applies to every single tiny facet of life with no exceptions. Do we make the mistake to think that what we have is ours and not God's? We have to stop and force ourselves to ask what am I holding onto and insisting this is mine! What thing? What role? What right to do something? What segment of time do we say this is mine? When all the while these things are gifts from our Father in heaven who freely gives.