3rd January, 2021.
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My dear friends,

New Year in Great Bardfield was remarkable this year by its silence. Normally, the arrival of a New Year is welcomed with fireworks, the tooting of car horns, distant laughter, and very occasionally the sound of bagpipes. This year, because of the coronavirus restrictions, the old year passed at midnight and 2021 arrived in complete silence.

New Year is traditionally a time for both looking back and looking forward. 2020 was a very trying year because of the coronavirus pandemic and all the steps that had to be taken to try to contain it, such as lock-downs, face masks and social-distancing. At the same time, the pandemic brought out the best in many people, and we have all been very moved by what has been achieved by so many folk in St John. I am especially humbled by so many people who have lost loved ones and have carried on helping others.

Looking forward, 2021 will not be without its challenges. Covid-19 has mutated – as one might have expected – and is now more easily spread. The task ahead is going to be (1) to try to contain the virus, and (2) to vaccinate as many people as possible. Covid-19 may eventually die away, like Spanish Flu, or we may have to learn to live with it and perhaps be vaccinated annually. Whatever the outcome, St John will be fully involved in the work of supporting and helping our fellow-countrymen in the year ahead.

New Year is also a time when we take New Year’s resolutions. In recent weeks my mind has returned to something said by one of the Norbertine monks from Chelmsford: ‘We cannot all leave the world a better place, but we can try to leave the world a better person.’ Perhaps we might apply this to 2021 and pledge ourselves, under God’s grace, to try to leave 2021 a better person. We should beware of taking on too much, lest we fall away disappointed and disheartened; but I am sure that God will show us each some small thing we can do – or stop doing – in His service. If the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, the road to Heaven is doubtless paved with lots of small things, willingly undertaken out of love of God and love of man.

May I take this opportunity to wish you and all your loved ones a very happy New Year and God’s richest blessing throughout 2021.

​​With my prayers and all good and warm wishes,

The Rev. Dr ROBERT BEAKEN, County Chaplain
THE EPIPHANY – 3rd JANUARY 2021.
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Gospel: St Matthew, chapter 2, verses 1-12
On the face of it, it must have seemed a crazy idea. Leave the security of Persia, the cradle of civilization, and go wandering off, goodness only knows where, in search of a baby? To do all this because of the position of the stars in the sky – and to be guided by one particular star? Astounding!
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            The Magi or Wise Men were the top scientists of their day. They studied the natural world and constellation of the stars. Most probably they were pagans, possibly followers of Zoroastrianism, the ancient pre-Islamic religion of Persia. And for some unearthly reason, they left home and comfort, status and security, and set off on what all their families and friends must have thought was a wild goose chase.

            The tale of their journey is well known to us, involving many days travelling, their encounter with wicked King Herod, and finally, their arrival in Bethlehem. Here, they found a child in the stable of an inn, born to poor peasant people from unglamorous Nazareth. This child, they realised, was the One they had sought. They knelt in adoration, and, opening their treasures, made him gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh.

            We know the symbolism of their gifts: gold for a king; frankincense for a high priest; myrrh for a sacrifical victim. All tell us something important about the life and identity of the child who sleeps in Mary’s arms.

            But this morning I want us to reflect for a minute on the journey undertaken by the Wise Men. The Bible is full of journeys: in the Old Testament: the Hebrews travelling from Persia, around the fertile crescent, pausing in Lebanon, before moving on to Egypt. Then, their journey out of slavery in Egypt to freedom in the Promised Land. The captivity of the Jews and their exile in Babylon, their return to Palestine and the rebuilding of the Temple in Jerusalem. The New Testament, too, is full of journeys: Mary and Joseph travelling to Bethlehem. The journey of the Magi, and the journey of the Holy Family to Egypt to avoid King Herod’s wrath. Most significantly, the many journeys of Christ around the Holy Land, of which we read in the Gospels.

            The common denominator running through all these journeys is faith: they were all undertaken at the prompting of God, in search of Him.

            Christians have long made special journeys inspired by faith, which we call pilgrimages: to Canterbury, to Walsingham, to Compostella, to Rome, even to Jerusalem itself. The aim of all these has been to draw a little closer to God, to seek His grace to carry out His will.

            Now, I want to suggest this morning that all of these journeys and pilgrimages reflect a much deeper and greater reality: namely, that for the Christian, earthly life itself is a journey, through time to eternity, towards our goal of life in the kingdom of heaven.

            Our medieval churches are laid-out inside to reflect this common Christian journey. When we enter a church, the first thing we usually encounter at the back is the font; and it is there to tell us that we enter the Church through Baptism. We are born again of water and the Holy Spirit, and here our Christian journey through life begins. In front of the chancel, or at what we call the crossing in a cruciform church, all the other big things in our lives take place. Here, we are Confirmed by the bishop. Here, we are married; priests are ordained; and here, at the end, our coffin will rest at our funeral. Finally, at the east end of the church, lies the altar. It is at the east because it symbolises Jerusalem, where Christ died and rose again. At the altar we receive the Body and Blood of Christ in Holy Communion. The altar, seen in the distance, represents Heaven – all that is most holy – where we shall encounter God Himself, and be most truly ourselves.

            There are two things I want to say about our Christian pilgrimage. Firstly, like any journey, it involves some effort, thought, expense. To follow Christ means doing something, and allowing ourselves to be changed as we do it.

            Secondly, when we are children, we are put into cars or taken onto buses and trains by our parents. In our middle years we take charge of our own travel arrangements. In old age we often rely on the help of others to undertake a journey. Being a Christian, it strikes me, is just the same. We are not a bunch of individual travellers, getting on with our own separate journeys, ignoring everyone else. We are the Church of God, journeying through life together. At times it will seem hard and difficult, and we may wish we had never set out. On other days all may go well with us, and we shall help some other traveller who has encountered trouble. Many people will take us for fools on a wild goose chase. But in the end, our journey shall be worth it. For we shall kneel in front of Christ Jesus, and offer him the only thing he has ever wanted: ourselves, and our love, with no sin or human suffering. Our journey will be over, but we shall already have forgotten it, for the joy of seeing Jesus face to face, never to be parted from him again.