The times they are a-changin’

We are called to pray for change in the political arenas of the world; we are called to make transformative change in our lives of faith too.


Bob Dylan’s prophetic words ring truer today than ever. We are called to accept changes that we don’t want to make. We are called to pray for change in the political arenas of the world; we are called to make transformative change in our lives of faith too. We are not called to do this alone. We are given people, friendships, prayer partners. We are also, most critically, given oodles of grace in the form of God’s Holy Spirit. We are not alone, no matter how separated we feel right now.

Due to the concerning infection rate of the new Covid-19 variant, the PCC decided to close the church for public worship but insisted that it be kept open for private prayer. This was a difficult decision but one that was driven by the need for public safety and also the opportunity for the Church to be an exemplar for the local community in respecting and protecting lives. 

We are open for private prayer – Monday-Wednesday; Saturday 10am-12 noon; Sunday 11am-12 noon and I continue to commend saying morning and/or evening prayer, provided on our website homepage.

It will still be possible to connect with church if you have a computer or smartphone. We will be livestreaming the 10am Eucharist each Sunday with readers and intercessors and preachers invited to take part in the service. In order to watch the livestream simply click here: www.facebook.com/stmichaelssummertown If you would like to watch the service at a time convenient to you later on Sunday or in the week, just click here: www.youtube.com/channel/UCFx4HGfklx1GCGp9Sc2oNAg

The church is keen to maintain pastoral contact with anyone in need – through Zoom or phone. Please get in touch. Please also inform me if you are concerned for anyone else. We don’t want anyone to feel unnoticed or unloved!

A Prayer for America

Irim Sarwar, one of our churchwardens at St Michael’s, wrote a profound and heart-felt note after the violence on Capitol Hill and in anticipation of the presidential inauguration. I have summarised Irim’s work; I hope that I have done it justice. She writes in the context of the season of Epiphany and specifically last week’s readings, the calling of Samuel in the Old Testament and and Nathanael in John’s Gospel:

It will come as no surprise to those of you who have heard me speak – and I’m not one for being quiet, whether it’s making announcements, reading, or discussing anything from politics to coffee –  that I  was born and raised in the land of Hamilton. What many of you may not know is that Washington, D.C. is my home. Yet even as I rooted myself here, becoming more Anglicised, I still looked back over the ocean. I voted in every American election; felt every result. Then came 2020. 

I sent both a regular and emergency ballot, the latter by DHL. Election Day came; American friends and I figuratively held each other’s hands over the next four days as the result unfolded, until Saturday, when it was called, and relief and joy rang across the Internet. “We did it!” “MADAM. VICE. PRESIDENT!”

But that joy was soon touched by apprehension, then overwhelmed by it, as a refusal to concede and lie after lie whipped grievance into a frenzy, and finally into the violence we watched, horrified, on Epiphany last week. 

I shook as the events unfolded, unable to do anything but hold those virtual hands and pray. This was my home. I’d walked past the cherry blossoms in full bloom on so many spring days; taken relatives and friends to the Mall and the Smithsonian; cursed traffic and tourists; shopped in Georgetown; navigated by the Capitol that now had a gallows in front of it and was being overrun by those bent on insurrection. I wept. For my people, for my city, and for the nation that formed me.

But in that rage and sorrow was a glimmer of hope. Hope, because, at long last, we could no longer hide from the truth, from the ugliness that had long sat beneath a veneer of power and well-being. Finally, America has to confess that she is profoundly unwell, and in that admission, the work of facing the truth, repentance, and healing can begin, slow and hard as it will be.

 If we have learned anything from these last four years, it is that there is always harm in allowing a lie to stand and gain momentum. In our first reading, Eli knows that well, which is why he exhorts Samuel to tell him the whole truth and nothing but the truth, no matter how difficult it is. Our Lord treasures the truth in today’s gospel, despite Nathaniel’s stinging ‘Can anything good come out of Nazareth?’, responding with ‘Behold, an Israelite in whom there is no guile!’

And so, this churchwarden who calls St Michael’s and the UK home asks you to pray for her other home across the Atlantic: that the transition of power may proceed with no further violence, that Joe Biden, Kamala Harris, and the incoming administration and Congress may lead wisely and tend to a wounded nation, that the truth may take deep root and flourish, so that America may finally realise the promise of her motto, E pluribus unum – a motto, perhaps, for the Church as well: out of the many, one.

(Thank you, Irim. Yes, we will pray for America, for humility, for healing, for hope and for peace and reconciliation).

Come and See

Bishop Steven introduces the inspiration behind ‘Come and See’ in this short video:
https://vimeo.com/502216171If you are interested in taking up the invitation to ‘come and see,’ please email me for more information. 

Upcoming Service

Please note that the church building is closed.
This week we welcome Revd Mary Gurr who will be preaching. Jesus celebrates the first of many signs of the new kingdom, he turns ordinary water into extraordinary wine. So much for a dry January!