"Should I not have concern for the great city of Nineveh, in which there are more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left—and also many animals?"
Jonah 9:11

Many of us didn’t plan to settle in Woolwich — I certainly didn’t. Yet here we are, called to more than just survive. It’s easy to despair when faced with violence, addiction, and poverty in our city. The temptation is to retreat into safe Christian circles. But Jesus calls us to engage, not escape.

God loves this city, just as He loved Nineveh (Jonah 4:11) and instructed the exiled Israelites to seek the peace and prosperity of Babylon (Jeremiah 29:4-7). We are called to do the same in Woolwich.

Rather than consume the city’s resources or critique it from afar, we must ask: How can I bring life here? Jesus says we are the salt and light of the world (Matthew 5:13-16). Salt preserves and flavours; light reveals and transforms. Our presence and actions should make a tangible difference.

Examples like the Mizens — who responded to their son’s murder with forgiveness and hope — remind us that faith empowers us to bring good out of bad.

Let’s pray, participate, and love our city. Whether through serving, building relationships, or simple daily actions, we are sent here for a purpose. God has entrusted this space to us. Let’s shine brightly.

They came to him and said, “Teacher, we know that you are a man of integrity. You aren’t swayed by others, because you pay no attention to who they are; but you teach the way of God in accordance with the truth. Is it right to pay the imperial tax to Caesar or not? Should we pay or shouldn’t we?”

But Jesus knew their hypocrisy. “Why are you trying to trap me?” he asked. “Bring me a denarius and let me look at it.” They brought the coin, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?”

“Caesar’s,” they replied.

Then Jesus said to them, “Give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what is God’s.”

- Mark 12:14-17

We live in politically divided times. So did Jesus - and in this story he is asked to take a side in the most politically charged question of his age. There were people refusing to pay the imperial tax - killing and dying for their beliefs. Then there were the collaborators, who just paid the tax and accepted the way the world was, even if it meant closing their eyes to injustice and oppression. What kind of man was Jesus?

Jesus gave an answer which meant he not only escaped the trap, but also showed them he wanted a deeper revolution than the kind that could be delivered by swords. Whose image and whose inscription on this coin? Caesar's? Then give Caesar his scraps of metal.

But what is the inscription? Caesar Augustus Tiberius, son of the Divine Augustus, High Priest. King, Son of God, High Priest? The same claims Jesus was making for himself. Caesar called himself the ruler of the world, and so did Jesus. Now that's a conflict.

But not the king of revolution that burns everything down, destroys and kills. A revolution that lifts up, heals and brings life. This is not a king who would ask you to kill or die for him. He is the King that dies for you. This is the King that makes the most subversive claim - one that undermines the claim of every empire - that we are all made in the image of God, and belong not to any human ruler but to Him.

As we ask ourselves what it is to be sent, we can ask what it means to be sent to the public world of political decisions, the economy and public debate. There would be those who would say that religion should be handed in at the door to this world - that it's a matter for our private lives. Jesus didn't 'privatise' the things of God, and he didn't just stick to the options that he was offered. Instead, he performed 'signs of the Kingdom' in the public world, bringing healing, freedom and forgiveness.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
- Ephesians 2:8-10

As we step into the rhythms of a new week, many of us return to routines that feel ordinary: checking emails, caring for children, fixing broken things, attending meetings. It’s easy to feel like Monday has little to do with God’s mission — but the gospel tells a different story.

You are not just going to work. You are sent to work.

In Christ, every task, however routine or hidden, can become sacred. Not because of the job title, but because of who you do it for. Whether you're caregiving, creating, or cleaning God sees your work and calls it good when it’s done in love and faithfulness.

As Colossians 3:23 reminds us: “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for human masters.” That transforms how we work. Grumbling becomes gratitude. Excellence becomes worship. A job becomes a calling.

You are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works and that includes your work this week.

So go into your Monday with purpose. See your workplace, your home, your classroom, your commute, as holy ground. Not because it’s easy. But because God is already there.

You are not just working.
You are participating in God’s mission.
You are sent.

After this the Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them two by two ahead of him to every town and place where he was about to go. He told them, “The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. Ask the Lord of the harvest, therefore, to send out workers into his harvest field. Go! I am sending you out like lambs among wolves. Do not take a purse or bag or sandals; and do not greet anyone on the road.
- Luke 10:1-4

After the resurrection, the disciples have a conversation with Jesus. They ask if He is now going to do what they expected all along: restore the kingdom to Israel. Jesus replies, “It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by His own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

In other words: Don’t worry about when God will act in that way — I’ve got something for you to do. If you’re asking God, “What’s the plan?” the answer is: You are the plan.

God’s calling always includes sending. Throughout Scripture – from Abraham to Mary Magdalene – those who encounter God are drawn into His mission. It’s not about our initiatives but about joining what God is already doing (Missio Dei). The Father sends the Son, the Son and the Father send the Spirit, and the Triune God sends the Church. This sending isn’t reserved for an elite few; it belongs to the whole church. Even those who feel weak or unqualified – like the women at the tomb – are sent. Our inadequacy only highlights that the power belongs to God, not to us. Every believer is part of the plan.

Second, mission has two edges: declaration and demonstration. It’s not just about preaching but about embodying God’s kingdom in word and deed – through healing, presence, and practical care. Mission isn’t merely about individual conversion; it’s holistic and relational. The point isn’t strategy, but discernment: how is God calling you to be a healing presence where you are?

Third, mission must be rooted in having truly received. The 72 return to Jesus rejoicing in their spiritual authority, but He redirects them: don’t rejoice in your power, rejoice that your names are written in heaven. Our secure foundation is our identity as God’s beloved. If our motivation is rooted in performance, failure will shake us. But if it’s grounded in who we are in Christ – citizens of heaven, loved, forgiven, and sent – then we can step out boldly toward neighbours, friends, and even strangers.

Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.” We are the creative work of God – and He has creative work for us to do in return. As Tim Keller said: “There are some hands only you can hold. Some needs only you can meet. Some demons only you can cast out.”

At noon, darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon. And at three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eloi, Eloi, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”).

When some of those standing near heard this, they said, “Listen, he’s calling Elijah.”

Someone ran, filled a sponge with wine vinegar, put it on a staff, and offered it to Jesus to drink. “Now leave him alone. Let’s see if Elijah comes to take him down,” he said.

With a loud cry, Jesus breathed his last.

The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”

- Mark 15:33-38

Even the execution of a guilty man is a tragic thing. How off-course does a life have to be to contemplate such punishment as the best possible outcome? The death of an innocent man could be nothing less than appalling.

What then, is this Good Friday? Why does Jesus' death take centre stage when people began to share the good news? Why does the apostle Paul, writing to the church in Corinth, say, "I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified".

Because the cross says that God loves us. Nothing else that we rely on - nothing else that we look to for our identity or purpose - can compare to the complete self-giving love we see on Calvary. We all desire human love, but human love is always limited. As good as it is, it isn't good like the love we see on Calvary's hill.

Because the cross says that power and brute force doesn't win out in the end. It says that the arc of the universe is indeed long, but it really does bend toward justice - and more, toward our good. It says that a life of service really is the most significant life - even the Son of Man came to serve, and give his life as ransom for many.

The cross says that we can stop reaching and start receiving. We don't have to transcend ourselves to find God, because God has descended to us. He meets us not when we escape our own failings and brokenness, but when we're at our lowest, weakest and most defeated. While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

The Church will remember this day as long as it exists. We will sing it, preach it, and pray it until the end of time and beyond. It truly is Good Friday.

Very early in the morning, the chief priests, with the elders, the teachers of the law and the whole Sanhedrin, made their plans. So they bound Jesus, led him away and handed him over to Pilate.

‘Are you the king of the Jews?’ asked Pilate.

‘You have said so,’ Jesus replied.

The chief priests accused him of many things. So again Pilate asked him, ‘Aren’t you going to answer? See how many things they are accusing you of.’

But Jesus still made no reply, and Pilate was amazed.

Now it was the custom at the festival to release a prisoner whom the people requested. A man called Barabbas was in prison with the rebels who had committed murder in the uprising. The crowd came up and asked Pilate to do for them what he usually did.

‘Do you want me to release to you the king of the Jews?’ asked Pilate, knowing it was out of self-interest that the chief priests had handed Jesus over to him. But the chief priests stirred up the crowd to get Pilate to release Barabbas instead.

‘What shall I do, then, with the one you call the king of the Jews?’ Pilate asked them.

‘Crucify him!’ they shouted.

‘Why? What crime has he committed?’ asked Pilate.

But they shouted all the louder, ‘Crucify him!’

Wanting to satisfy the crowd, Pilate released Barabbas to them. He had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified.

- Mark 15:1-15

As we approach Easter, we are invited to step into the story of Jesus' trial and crucifixion—not as distant observers, but as participants. By situating ourselves in this story, role-playing key characters in the Gospel of Mark, we’re challenged to consider the competing claims of truth presented by the Jewish leaders, the Roman authorities, and Jesus himself.

The passage from shows us Jesus standing before Pilate, silent in the face of false accusations. The crowd, stirred by the chief priests, demands the release of Barabbas and the crucifixion of Jesus. Crucifixion was not just execution—it was total humiliation, a public declaration that a person’s life and message were utterly worthless. For the Jewish people, it carried an added spiritual horror: to be hung on a tree was to be cursed by God.

The sermon guides us to imagine the perspectives of three groups:

• The Jewish Leaders: Motivated by fear of losing control and influence, they saw Jesus as a blasphemer and a threat to the religious system. Their “truth” was about protecting tradition and power—even at the cost of an innocent man.
• Pilate and the Roman Authorities: Representing the power of empire, Pilate ultimately chose political convenience over justice. His truth was that might makes right, and public order must be preserved.
• Jesus: Silent yet resolute, Jesus embodied a truth that was not about dominance but about love, peace, and human flourishing—even if it led to the cross.

Each viewpoint presents a different “truth,” and each leads to different consequences. The leaders' choice led to the destruction of the temple. Rome’s path of violence ultimately collapsed. But Jesus’ way, vindicated in resurrection, leads to transformation—a new kind of humanity.

The sermon concludes by challenging us: Whose truth are you living by? Where are your choices leading you? Jesus invites us to build our lives on solid ground—a foundation of wisdom, love, and eternal hope.

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.