iChaplain

Sometimes the best ideas arrive unexpectedly. I had just left a service at St Nic's Church in Durham. The reading was from 2 Corinthians 4, where Paul writes: "We have this treasure in jars of clay." It is one of those passages that stays with you, reminding us that extraordinary things can emerge from ordinary people. As I stepped out into the city, I found myself in the middle of the Durham Brass Festival. The streets were alive with music, performers and visitors. One moment I had been sharing in worship with a church community; the next I was part of a gathering united by music and celebration. The experience left me wondering about the relationship between worship, music and community. More Than a Contrast At first, a church service and a brass festival seem quite different. One is rooted in worship and faith, the other in musical and cultural tradition. Yet as I reflected on my experience that morning, the contrast seemed less important than I had first imagined. Br...

A Simple Question with a Complicated Answer When people think about Peter and Paul, they often picture two of the most influential figures in the early Church, united in their mission to share the message of Jesus.  Yet when we look more closely at the Bible, the relationship between Peter and Paul seems more complex than a simple friendship story. Were they best mates? Probably not. They came from very different backgrounds. Peter was a fisherman, called by Jesus while working on his boat (Luke 5:1–11). He was passionate, courageous and often impulsive. Paul was a Pharisee, highly educated and deeply knowledgeable about law. His encounter with Jesus came dramatically on the road to Damascus (Acts 9:1–19). Not only were they different, but they sometimes disagreed. Paul even writes about challenging Peter over an important issue in the early Church (Galatians 2:11–14). Yet despite their differences, they remained united.  In many ways, that might be more impressive than friend...

  The Verse We Reach For When Words Run Out Jeremiah 29:11 appears everywhere. It is printed on mugs, cards and posters, and shared in messages to people who are having a hard time. It is often used as a quick reassurance, a comforting line we offer when someone is struggling and we do not really know what else to say. I have done it, and you probably have too. Sometimes we reach for this verse because we want to offer hope, and it is the first thing that comes to mind. However, Jeremiah 29:11 was not written for people who were about to step into a bright new chapter. It was not a motivational quote for someone starting a new job or waiting for exam results. It was not even a promise of quick rescue. It was spoken to people living far from home, trying to make sense of a life they did not choose. These were people whose world had fallen apart. They were confused, unsettled and unsure what the future held. In many ways, they were experiencing the same kind of uncertainty that many ...

Image by Pete from Pixabay The theme of this year's 2026 Durham Miners' Gala, "The Past We Inherit, The Future We Build," is both simple and profound. It speaks of gratitude for those who came before us and responsibility towards those who will follow. While Jesus never used these exact words, the idea runs deeply through his teaching. The theme invites reflection not only on the mining communities of Durham, but also on the wider question of what we receive from the past and what we owe to the future.  The Gala itself is rooted in memory. It honours generations of miners, families and communities whose labour shaped County Durham and much of modern Britain. Their struggles, sacrifices and achievements are part of an inheritance that cannot be measured merely in economics. They handed down values of solidarity, dignity and mutual care. Yet inheritance is never meant to be an end in itself.  Jesus often taught that what we receive carries with it a responsibility. In ...

There’s a moment early in John’s Gospel that has always stood out for me. Two curious men begin following Jesus at a distance, unsure what to say, unsure what they’re even looking for. Jesus turns, notices them, and asks the simplest question imaginable: “What do you want?” (John 1:38). They mumble something about where He’s staying. And Jesus replies with three words that have shaped Christian invitation ever since: “Come and see.” (John 1:39) No pressure. No performance. No sales pitch. Just presence, honesty, and an open door. In my previous reflection, Beyond Evangelism: Becoming the Kind of People Who Help Others Find Jesus , I explored how our calling isn’t to “sell” Jesus but to become the kind of people through whom others can encounter Him. If you haven’t read it yet, you can find it here: https://www.ichaplain.uk/2026/07/beyond-evangelism-becoming-kind-of.html That post laid the foundation for this one, because the heart of “come and see” is the heart of becoming those kin...

What if the church's discomfort with evangelism is telling us something important? Few words make Christians more uncomfortable than evangelism.  For some, it evokes memories of pressure, awkward conversations, or techniques designed to persuade. For others, it raises feelings of guilt and inadequacy. We know Jesus commissioned his followers to make disciples, yet many churches struggle to know what faithful evangelism looks like in today's world. This is not to deny that there are times when evangelism requires words. The New Testament is full of examples of faithful and courageous proclamation. Peter preached publicly at Pentecost (Acts 2:14–41) and before hostile authorities (Acts 4:8–20). Paul reasoned in synagogues and marketplaces (Acts 17:17), defended the gospel before rulers (Acts 24–26), and declared, "I am not ashamed of the gospel" (Romans 1:16). Yet alongside these examples of proclamation, we find something equally important: communities whose common lif...

  We  don’t always wake up thinking, “Today I’m going to ignore God.” We wake up thinking about what needs to get done.  The bills, the messages, the job, the family. Alongside it all, there’s something else quietly shaping us, a desire for stability, a hope that things will work out, a longing to feel secure, valued, or at peace.  Life fills up quickly with these things, and before we realise it, our attention is already spoken for.  It’s not that we’ve rejected God. We’ve simply become busy, preoccupied, distracted. And it’s into that very normal, very human reality that Jesus speaks: “But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” At first, it can sound like a call to simply “put God first.”  But as we sit with it, we begin to see that Jesus is not just talking about where God sits in our lives. He is challenging what shapes our lives in the first place.  Because the real issue isn’t just that we...

  A Familiar Landscape Even if you have never opened a Bible, there is a good chance you have heard Psalm 23. It appears at funerals, in films, and in quiet moments when people are searching for words that carry comfort. There is something about it that feels familiar, like a landscape you somehow recognise, even if you have never walked it before. Perhaps it endures not just because it is well known, but because it speaks to something deeply human: the desire to feel safe, guided, and not alone. Being Known and Cared For The psalm begins: “The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.”  For those who approach it from faith, this is a statement of trust in God’s care. For others, it can still be heard as a powerful image. A shepherd is not distant or abstract. A shepherd pays attention, stays close, and guides with care. And then there is that second phrase: “I shall not want.” Many of us spend much of life aware of what we lack, time, security, clarity and peace of mind. This li...