The Bible doesn’t call them kings, nor that there were three of them. But tradition has come to call them kings, with their famous three gifts - gold for wealth, frankincense for divinity, myrrh for death. And there are other kings in the story. Herod is the tyrant king, the might is right king, the king who will do anything to retain power. And Bethlehem, where all the action takes place, is the City of King David, the harking back to the glory days king. And then there is the child in a stable king, the one who will be crowned with thorns, the one to whom the so-called three kings bow down. Epiphany is a reflection on what makes for a good king. It’s an interesting coincidence that the feast of the Epiphany, on the 6th January, is also the date of that attempted insurrection in Washington DC, where thousands stormed the Capital building to try and overturn the results of the 2020 election. And last year the No Kings demonstrations brought millions of people out onto the streets in protest. American independence was gained by throwing off the authority of George III, which is why someone behaving like a king can feel like a threat to American identity. Back in Bethlehem two thousand years ago, a weak and pathetic baby gurgles in an out-house, surrounded by cattle. For Christians, this child is the presence of God Almighty, the king of kings. But he doesn’t look like a king. “Mild he lays his glory by” we sing. Power and wealth, typically defining qualities of kingly rule, seem to have been set aside by this strange monarch. In adult life he will come to speak about a kingdom, but one quite unlike the kingdoms of the earth. Here the first shall be last, the poor will be robed in ermine, here peace will have more effect than violence, where human love is the battle cry and strength is made perfect in weakness. It is a curious programme of political action – except that over the centuries billions have pledged their allegiance to it. And whilst some have argued that kings have some God given right to rule, others have referenced the kingdom Jesus spoke about as one to whom all, even monarchs, should pay homage. “No King but Jesus” was the revolutionary cry of the Parliamentarians as they sought to bring down the regime of Charles 1st. In that stable in Bethlehem, those three kings cast their crowns before the Christ child. This is the template for genuine Christian rule, an acknowledgement that all are subject to that other kingdom, however glamourous and mighty they might think of themselves. And as for that last gift of myrrh for death, it is a reminder that no kingly rule can last forever. In the end, Christians believe that we will all have to give an account of ourselves. And the mighty of this world will be judged accordingly.

06 JAN 26

05 JAN 26

03 JAN 26

Good morning. I have a sense today of a country in limbo, eking out the last days of holiday and anxious about what the new year will hold. All the hard things we face together are surely right there where we left them. We owe ourselves a pause, an opportunity to step off the treadmill of consumption that rushed us through preparation for Christmas, right into new years’ resolutions and worries about the future. The Christian practice of gratitude, properly understood, can help us find that pause, to feel better, and do better. For some people, the return to routine can’t come soon enough. Not all can afford time off work, and many suffer with closure of regular care or support services. Even those whose Christmas and New Year conformed to the popular script of family and feasting can end up feeling overwhelmed, weary, and out of pocket. Marketers amplify our moods - they know that my trousers are somewhat tighter now than last week, that I’m sick of London’s grey pavement and that the new stain on my carpet makes me ripe to be sold a new one. So it is out with TV ads about party food and perfume, in with cleaning products, diets, and package holidays. It is easy to believe I had no choice but to buy things to prepare and now more things to recover. If I’m not careful, I will have not only failed to ‘make memories,’ as the popular phrase has it, but also have missed out on appreciating things the first time around. Here is where the habit of gratitude, the habit of it, helps. It begins with being present in the moment, to look and see and feel. St Paul gave Christians the command to ‘give thanks in all circumstances’ to encourage people living with evil that God was not finished, not to say suffering was God’s will. It is not God’s will that anyone spent this holiday in a home that was unsafe, or lonely. A habit of thanksgiving is an antidote to denial as it names what’s good and puts it in the foreground AND EXPOSES bad things for what they are. Today, just as for Paul, gratitude refuses to let evil have all the airtime, even when it shouts the loudest. Today, gratitude might mean pausing to ask what has surprised me with joy? What has pricked my conscience, or broken my heart? What do I NOT need to pick up again in the new year? Then we can approach 2026 with truth telling, wonder and curiosity: then we can make resolutions that do more than loosen our tight waistbands. And good news: it costs us nothing.

T’was the week after Christmas, and all through the town People were taking their lights and trees down They’ve been up since November, no wonder we’re sick All of our homes must be wrestled back from St Nick. But now there is darkness where the bright tree once stood A space to be filled because we feel that we should. Never fear, for January is here to step into the gap A new year, a new us! How the gym owners clap. We’ll be better than before, all shiny and new. The lies that we tell, the plans we’ll never see through. It’s the bleak mid winter, when the holly wears a crown, This is the season for hunkering down. Save new commitments for spring, when things are less blue Christmas isn’t yet over, there is still work for it to do. Yes, it’s a new year but still the same old you. What’s needed right now is something more solid, more timeless and true. I have my faith, but I don’t always know what’s best to say. To deliver a Thought for the Year and not just a Day. Finding joy in January is hard, making it easier to doubt So what do we do when the lights all go out? It’s a challenge to remain hopeful when all around us is bare. But the eternal hope of Christmas is a truth for all to share. That shepherd’s watched while glory shone around Gives us hope for the weary, that the lost may still be found. That angels touched earth with their wings all unfurled Gives us strength to resist being dimmed by the world. In a year riven with anger, intolerance and hate. We must consciously keep light burning, lest shadows await. It’s a light that still shines, as fierce as can be It’s a stubborn little light that no one can see. It has the power to soften the heart and make it less numb. Darkness doesn’t vanquish the light, which can’t be overcome. The church are custodians of a story, of holy time and sacred place. We herald love coming down from heaven, to show us God’s face. This story remains true, long after the decorations are gone The Word is enthroned in flesh forever, and so the light shines on. So take down the lights and take down the tree But keep one light shining, all the year to see. For now, Christmas continues, ere it goes out of sight So: Happy new Year to all, let us be keepers of light.

Sooner than we know, New Year’s Eve has come round again. Will you be making the same old resolutions to make yourself feel better? Or could this be the year to rethink the ritual by looking outwards? To be specific, rather than agonising about reinventing yourself, should you instead discover the rewards of selfless service … service to one person, one family or even an entire community? In the depths of World War 2, C.S. Lewis went to the heart of the matter when he wrote: “Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses.” But what, exactly, does it take to be able to serve selflessly? The answer lies not in tedious aspirations to some kind of perfection, but in building on your strengths, making the best of what you already have. “Start from where you stand.” I first heard those words 35 years ago at World Youth Day in Kraków, the home ground of Pope John Paul II. I had the chance to talk to him about Christian values, such as humility, and their role in service. Though already working on Wall Street, I still felt a calling to the priesthood, and ventured to ask the Holy Father for his thoughts. He looked me straight in the face and said: “You will have greater impact outside the Church. Be guided by your faith and do God’s will ... Start from where you stand. You are an original, and you must encourage others to be originals. That changes things.” We all have it in us to be an original. After all, no one else in the world has exactly the same beliefs, passions and talents as you do. You can seek advice from people you trust, but in the end it’s for you to determine just how you use your time, not in serving yourself, but in serving other people.Starting from where you stand, you can be an original in your own, quiet, honest way. The scope of your ambitions does not have to be radical. Just look around you. In the words of Romans 15, verse 2: “Each of us should please our neighbours for their good, to build them up.” Resolutions come and resolutions go. But your life, like other people’s lives, can be transformed if you take concrete action – even in a small way – for the common good. Never mind that idealised list of personal goals. Start now and prepare for the multiplier effect. You will see how the waves of generosity will ripple outward, growing to reshape your life in 2026.

30 DEC 25

29 DEC 25

27 DEC 25