Over the last little while, we have seen the sun peeking through the clouds quite a bit.
So, I have found myself unconsciously turning my chair around and gazing out my office window, basking in the joy of spring sunshine. I may be avoiding work, but I think we are solar powered.
Every year millions of people will depart our beautiful isles for slightly warmer, sunnier ones. This concept is something I have struggled to understand.
Why not just go on holiday to the Lakes or the Peak District or one of our entirely serviceable beaches all over the country? But then I did it.
And it was marvellous. Don’t get me wrong the flights were horrible, the food strange, and there is nothing as comforting as your own bed. But there is something extraordinary about the gift of otherwise unexpected sunshine.
This leads me to wondering where people draw their strength from. Not the strength to do this or that seemingly important thing, but the strength to face the unspeakable. Every one of us has had experiences which make our life feel on a cold, dark January day.
In the very densely packed portion of the Bible, at the beginning of John’s Gospel, hidden among mixed metaphor and an assumption of understanding ancient philosophies, John states of Jesus: “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.”
He is, of course, speaking of Jesus resurrection, but characteristically, also speaking of Jesus’ light-giving presence.
While visiting the aforementioned island paradise I realised another thing: the excessive light around the Reading night sky means the night sky looks dark.]
But when it is truly dark, we can see a million million pinpricks of light. The Light shines in the darkness.
The Revd Martin Beukes, Wesley Methodist Church, writing on behalf of Churches Together in Reading
