Dear friends,

This coming Sunday, we will end our worship with the beautiful hymn 710, “I have a dream, a man once said.” The words, of course, echo Martin Luther King Jr’s famous speech. Yet they speak powerfully into our worship context and resonate deeply with John’s vision in Revelation 21 (our 2nd reading for Sunday): 

“I have a dream,” a man once said,

“where all is perfect peace;

where men and women, black and white,

stand hand in hand, and all unite

in freedom and in love.”

But in this world of bitter strife

the dream can often fade;

reality seems dark as night,

we catch but glimpses of the light

Christ sheds on humankind….

Dear Friends,

I love the stories that emerge from our congregation and want to share them more widely. So, instead of our weekly minister’s letter, you’ll find a poem by Wendie Shaffer titled Mayday Resurrections. Going forward, we’ll feature biweekly contributions from members—art, photos, writing, poetry. Our creativity thrives in community. If you have something on your heart, please send it my way.

All the best, Marius

==============

Mayday resurrections

the air is crisp and cool

across the river, the low line of houses sleeps

soft wind ruffles the water

lifts small peaky triangles

it is still dark…..

Dear friends, 

In his beautiful book Dare We Speak About Hope, theologian and politician Allan Boesak speaks about the nature of Christian hope as “hope against hope” (Rom. 4:18). To make his point, he draws on the Khoikhoi conception of God as Tsui//Goab – the god who fought against evil and emerged limping. For Boesak, this image powerfully aligns with biblical depictions of God as one who suffers in solidarity. God is not, first and foremost, omnipotent and detached, but “limping beside [God’s] wounded children,” sharing in their pain. Hope, in this image, is not about denial of pain, but about divine solidarity. Our God, says Boesak, is the “God with the wounded knee.” We can relate this to the story of Jacob wrestling with God at the Jabbok (Gen. 32). This same God later shows Thomas his wounds and prepares breakfast for the disciples on the beach after the resurrection.

Hope emerges from places of woundedness. In fact….

Dear Friends,

I love the stories that emerge from our congregation and want to share them more widely. So, instead of our weekly minister’s letter, you’ll find a reflection by Giles Francis from their time in South Africa. Going forward, we’ll feature biweekly contributions from members—art, photos, writing, poetry. Our creativity thrives in community. If you have something on your heart, please send it my way.

All the best, Marius….

Dear friends,

“Look, O Lord, at my affliction,  

for the enemy has triumphed!  

All her people groan  

as they search for bread;  

they trade their treasures for food  

to revive their lives.  

Look, O Lord, and see  

how worthless I have become.”  

These are the lamenting words of the prophet Jeremiah, often called “the weeping prophet,” after the destruction of Jerusalem and the exile of his people by Babylon around 597 BC.

This passage is perhaps best known through Rembrandt’s visual depiction of it. In 1630, Rembrandt completed his painting Jeremiah Lamenting the Destruction of Jerusalem when he was only 24 years old. What makes this painting so striking is Jeremiah’s face as he mourns for his city. Last year, this painting was featured in the Turning Heads exhibition in Antwerp, which focused specifically on tronies – an art genre dedicated to single anonymous heads (the word “tronie” is an old Dutch term for “face”). This seemed unusual because Rembrandt’s painting is neither anonymous nor simply a facial portrait; it features a full-body image, and Jeremiah’s slumped posture communicates as much as his expression.

Nevertheless, the museum displayed it next to a true tronie by Rembrandt. When viewed together, we discover that the anonymous figure shares the same face as Jeremiah. Apparently, the same model was used for both.

I appreciate this idea because…

Dear friends,

I’m currently reading the dystopian novel Prophet Song by Paul Lynch. It depicts a near future in which the far-right National Alliance Party seizes control of the Republic of Ireland, implementing emergency powers that suspend the Irish constitution. This gives the Garda Síochána extensive authority and establishes a new secret police force, the Garda National Services Bureau (GNSB).

The novel follows Eilish Stack, who becomes aware of her husband’s vaguely anticipated but unimaginable arrest without charge after a trade union protest. When she first receives the news of his arrest and disappearance, she fears what she might have to tell her children, who are expectantly awaiting their father’s return. A poignant moment in the story illustrates her turmoil: 

“She keys the ignition, afraid now for what lies must follow, the lies growing further out her mouth. She sees how a single lie told to a child is an outrage; there can be no untelling it. Once the lie is known, it will remain outgrown from the mouth like some dead-tonguing poisonous flower.”

Isn’t that a vivid image? The words we speak, the lies we tell, and the hurt we cause can grow from our mouths like poisonous weeds, difficult to uproot once established. Eilish finds herself ensnared in a web of lies, not due to any fault of her own, but the potential for this web to take root in her soul and spread further is concerning. It’s a forest of poisonous flowers….

Dear friends,

Tonight, we will come together for a special concert to support the Mulanje Mission Hospital. I must admit, I didn't know much about the music style called chanson, which will be performed by the talented Café des Chansons. I’ve learned that this style has roots dating back to medieval times when traveling troubadours went from town to town, bringing communities together to share stories of love, bravery, and the funny moments that made life interesting. It feels especially meaningful that, tonight, we have the chance to immerse ourselves in music, let the stories take us on a journey, and reignite our creativity and joy after a long week, especially given the challenging times we’re living in.

This concert is not just about relaxing and enjoying the music; it also helps…..

Dear friends,

Many sayings from the Desert Fathers and Mothers may seem out of touch with modern life, but their radical dedication and ability to escape the corruption of city life continue to inspire me. During the growth of the church in the 2nd and 3rd centuries, they felt that the church had become too powerful and disconnected, losing its spiritual depth. A key figure in this movement was Anthony the Great. After hearing a sermon in 270 AD, he became convinced that true perfection comes from selling all one’s belongings, giving money to the poor, and following Jesus. As a result, he sought solitude in the desert.

One of my favourite stories is….

Dear All,

“For you were made from dust, and to dust you will return.” These words resonated in the vibrant Krijtberg as we welcomed the season of Lent on Ash Wednesday. This year, I didn't feel prepared for Lent. It's likely that one can never truly be ready to embark on this cruciform journey with Christ, but the pleasant weather and bustling terraces made me feel a sense of naivety about what Lent is asking of me: to confront reality…..