St Neots Parish Church

“The word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart for you to observe.” The story of the Good Samaritan is one of the most widely known gospel stories and its message, widely approved, comes almost into the category of the flippin’ obvious. Does it really justify our belief in our Lord as a supreme moral teacher that he says something as obvious as this: that we should stop and help anyone in need whatever his or her origin. It is the basis of all moral thinking.

I’ve just been to London to see an exhibition of old copies of the bible. There was a copy of the gospels dating from around the year 250 AD and a whole New Testament from around 350, still perfectly legible – for those who can read Greek – and in the same words as in my Greek bible at home. Most fascinating of all, however, was a small fragment from an unknown gospel. The text tells mostly the same stories as in the gospels in our bibles but includes two stories which are not in our bibles at all. It is dated somewhere between 100 and 150 AD.

On an ancient manuscript it apparently says ‘ All the world’s mad: children won’t obey their parents and everyone wants to write a book.’ Children have certainly been a problem for ever. The current form that the problem takes is apparently teenagers with nothing to do getting up to mischief. (I seem to remember doing this fifty years ago.)

Every day here the Bible is read, morning and evening. Sometimes it seems remote, even barbaric. Sometimes though it speaks with an immense power such that it makes men weep as they read it. That is the common experience of those for whom it is the substance of their praying. It doesn’t happen always, as I said, but occasionally, it hits the reader between the eyes.

When my father died, my small son came to the service. I like children at funerals. Nothing awful happens; adults cry but this is no disaster. Children may not understand death, but they sure will have to cope with the loss sooner as well as later. Often I am told that children are too young to attend. I always accept the decision of the family but if asked I always encourage them to bring children.

Newspapers can never talk about the church without mentioning either naughty vicars or declining congregations. As to the first, I have not yet been found out; as to the second, we seem to have grown over the years. The 2001 Census recorded that over 70% of us called ourselves Christians. On the other hand there are many signs that the church at large is in poor health: fewer baptisms, weddings and even funerals. Many congregations are falling in numbers.

The Daleks are back. Actually, as I now realise, they have never been away. In fact, we are the Daleks. How so? Aren’t they small soft puny creatures whose power derives from their brainpower which drives the machines they sit in? A small person is as powerful as a huge hulk now; all that matters is what size of car we can afford. When it comes to the means of communication, we lack the monotonous voices; we are reduced to single tone horns and hand signals. The newest device is the darkened window which enables us to see out but not to be seen. The Daleks would approve.

Day by day we hear news of the progress and use of medical science. When it works it’s wonderful; when it doesn’t it often seems to be because of the obstructiveness of those who hold the purse strings. Life expectancy goes up and advice on how to live longer and more healthily is in every paper.

Families you are stuck with. The more distant relations you can ignore; but parents and children are part of us and if we dislike them it may well be because we are from the same rootstock and are too much like each other.

Money is often held to be the measure of most things. A credit card advertises itself on this basis; ‘the bottom line’ is often cited as the test of whether something should be started or continued. We are more often called customers than citizens. This is only a part of the truth.