Tag: God

Transfiguring Love

The Transfiguration of Christ, Icon written by Sr Irène-Marie of la communaute
des soeurs du Bec-Hellouin. There are two Icons, one at the Parish Church of
St John the Baptist, Epping and a similar Icon in the personal care of Mr G.

Transfiguring Love, reflections on the Feast of the Transfiguration, August 6, 2026 by Mr G.

In the Transfiguration (see Luke 9: 28-36) God gives us a snapshot of human glory – Christ transformed and it is as if God is telling us that this is what we can become if we follow his way of doing things.

What follows the Transfiguration is the journey to Jerusalem by Jesus and his companions leading to the death of our Lord Jesus on the Cross.  There, Jesus absorbed all human pain, conflict and hurt as he became the instrument of our transfiguration. He absorbed human sin and nailed it to the Cross and he did so out of sheer love for humanity. What transforms the Cross is love because the Crucifixion is God’s ultimate statement of His love for us. “You can do this to me,” his actions say, “and yet I will go on loving and you cannot stop me for it is only love that transforms humanity and changes our destiny.”

I once heard a story of a young Russian priest who was arrested when communism took over his country. For years he was held in a prison camp and there he was beaten and tortured. When he was eventually released his friends asked him what was left of him.
‘Nothing’ he said, ‘they have taken everything away. Only Love remains.”

That priest had discovered the one thing that changes every human situation and disarms every human conflict – sacrificial self-giving love. The Cross which Jesus took upon himself is the action by which all of us can be changed – and when we are changed, the world is changed. Only Love remains – only love will conquer the human heart. Only love will Transfigure the world. Perhaps we are unable to see that as a possibility in conflicts throughout our world – in Ukraine and Russia, in the Sudan, In the Middle East, in Iran, Israel, Lebanon, in Gaza where the people are living without hope. So many conflicts, so much hatred; all we can hope is that the world will come to its senses before it is too late.

But there is one area where we can see this glory of Transfiguration and that is in our own lives and in our own dealings with others. Wars do not begin on foreign battlefields far from home. They begin in our hearts – when we refuse to allow others dignity or understanding. When we want what we want, come what may and when we believe our own views to be the only right views – a sure way to begin oppression of others.

That is not God’s Way. As Mother Mary Clare of the Sisters of the Love of God once put it so clearly, God’s way  is to call us to stand at the place of the Cross – at that intersection where human pain, hurt and conflict meet and are held by the transforming love of God. This is where Love will always remain and we are invited to become it with Jesus.

It is only when we stand in this place where God in Jesus Christ always is – the place of transforming love – that we will begin to see the glory in each other. That is a wonderful message of the Transfiguration. If we do not grasp it then not only will we ill treat others, we will also diminish ourselves – and, more importantly, we will be in danger of denying God.

[Mr G]

Sister Irène-Marie, Icon writer,
transformed by heavenly love.

A Faithful Priest

Simple statue of St John Vianney. Photo Mr G.

One of my most treasured possessions is a plain plaster statue of a French parish priest known universally as the Curé d’Ars—so named because for over 40 years he served the parish of Ars-en-Dombes. 

John-Marie Baptiste Vianney (whose feast day we keep on August 4th) was brought up in a peasant farming family near Lyons. He was born in 1786 and as a child of farmers he was given very little formal education.  Yet, by the time he was 20 he had heard God’s call to ordination and had begun to study for the priesthood.
He found study very hard and on more than one occasion his superiors thought to end his time in the seminary. However, they noted his devotion to God and a quality of holiness which far outweighed academic ability. They saw a young man whose heart God had touched.

He was ordained and after a curacy he was appointed the Parish Priest of a backwater village—Ars. He went there in 1818 and remained until his death in 1859 on August 4th.  Very quickly he gained a reputation for being a preacher and people began to flock to hear him. At the same time he became known as a priest who could give wise and gentle counsel to souls in distress.
Very soon people began to consult him and to bare their souls to him.

The trickle of people became a stream and then a torrent. Many came to him  to receive both God’s forgiveness and  wise counsel.
All was rooted in personal prayer and devotion.  He would preach a sermon daily at 11am and then spend many hours  in hearing confessions and giving spiritual direction. He was often moved to tears by the things people told him and he brought to them the comfort born out of someone who understood human weakness and the power of God’s love.

He was offered more important jobs in the Church and he also struggled with a call to the monastic life but he stayed where God had put him and in so doing put the little village of Ars on the map—not only in his own day but for all time.

Not surprisingly, after his death, he was declared a Saint and he became known as the Patron Saint of Parish Priests. As an example of the devotion and service priests are called to emulate, this is hardly surprising.
The simple statue I have, unadorned by paint, is a reminder of what priesthood means.
Here’s one of my favourite sayings of his:

Speaking of the difference between private and public prayer, he said: 

Private prayer is like straw scattered here and there : if you set it on fire it makes a lot of little flames. But gather these straws into a bundle and light them and you get a mighty fire, rising like a column into the sky. Public prayer is like that.”

[Mr G. August 4th 2026]

The Flourishing of Creation

Photo of hydrangea in the Lake District, by Gill Henwood.

A summer pondering from Gill Henwood

Hydrangea : Planted long ago by slate steps leading into a spinney on the edge of a track, the huge shrub now blocks access
but is too beautiful to tame.

Above is a ‘handkerchief’ tree, davidia involucra, also known as the ‘dove’ tree, both from the creamy hanging bracts in the spring, around the small flowers. The tall tree shades the hydrangea which isn’t drooping in the heatwave.
There are underground streams in the spinney, flowing into Black Beck in the vale and on to Esthwaite Water,
our local lake.

The hydrangea suckers, providing new plants to give away. The handkerchief tree sets masses of nutmeg sized seeds, chewed by mice and scattered all over the garden.
Shoots emerge and saplings can be moved and given away too.

Over a century, these plants and trees have made their home in the windswept, rainy Lake District. The spinney shelters them from the western winds and shelters the old farmstead (dating back to at least 1536). People knew where to site their homes, against the slate rock wall, near a spring or stream, and to plant trees for shelter and shade.

We need tall shading trees and shelter today, to learn from our forebears how Creation flourishes despite heat and winds. May we, as stewards in our small ways, pay our part in protecting Creation, not least all creatures great and small.

[Gill Henwood. July 2026]

Summer Evensong at High Easter

Photo, The East Window in St Mary the Virgin, High Easter, Essex

Summer Evensong in St Mary the Vitgin, High Easter
gazing at the East Window.

We gather to open ourselves to God
in this House of Prayer,
where, alight with early evening sun,
Incarnation beckons through refracted glass.

Here, blessed Mary and humble Joseph
are transfixed in golden beams
streaming towards them from the Christ-child,
deeply alive in cradle strewn with straw.

Ox peeps adoringly over shoulder of Ass
as the shepherd and his boy look on,
crozier, an icon of pastoral love to come,
carried proudly.
Star above all, shining in majestic glory,
a portal through which heaven comes to earth.

I see the telling of this in the left window
as Angel Gabriel, deep in converse with God’s chosen One,
seeks to draw from her a ‘Yes’
that comes from the heart,
And challenges us too.

The triptych of God’s love
is completed in the third window ,
that of Presentation
where The child of God touches the waiting Simeon,
as the old man tenderly takes, holds, and blesses Him
in gentle and awesome thanksgiving,
which releases his own soul into God’s arms,
slipping into a peace his heart longs for.

Three God moments dance in coloured glass
opening our hearts, our souls, our vision,
Calling us to glorify, presenting ourselves
to receive the light of our Salvation
and the grace of God’s Incarnate love.

For this we came.


[Mr G. 23rd July 2026]

I visited High Easter Church on July 19th to take part in Choral Evensong.
I was fascinated by the East Window and above is my reflection.
Choral Evensong was sung beautifully using the Book of Common Prayer
and accompanied by a fine organist. The congregation welcome was kind
and warm, and the after service coffee was splendid!
Should you ever find yourself in that part of Essex, the postcode is CM1 4QW.
It’s a fine church with Saxon roots, roman brick and bits from almost every age.
Unusually it has a window dedicated to St. Valentine!