Readings

Acts 8.1b–8 – And Saul approved of their killing him. That day a severe persecution began against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout the countryside of Judea and Samaria. Devout men buried Stephen and made loud lamentation over him. But Saul was ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both men and women, he committed them to prison. Now those who were scattered went from place to place, proclaiming the word. Philip went down to the city of Samaria and proclaimed the Messiah to them. The crowds with one accord listened eagerly to what was said by Philip, hearing and seeing the signs that he did, for unclean spirits, crying with loud shrieks, came out of many who were possessed; and many others who were paralysed or lame were cured. So there was great joy in that city.

John 6.35–40 – Jesus said to them, ‘I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty. But I said to you that you have seen me and yet do not believe. Everything that the Father gives me will come to me, and anyone who comes to me I will never drive away; for I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will, but the will of him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day. This is indeed the will of my Father, that all who see the Son and believe in him may have eternal life; and I will raise them up on the last day.’

Reflection

There is a quiet thread that runs through both of our readings today: the movement of God’s life into places we might not expect.

In our reading from Acts, the Church is scattered. What began as a gathered community in Jerusalem is suddenly dispersed by persecution. It looks, at first glance, like a moment of loss; a breaking apart, a forced ending. And yet, as those early believers are scattered, they carry the good news with them. Philip goes to Samaria, a place of long-standing division and suspicion, and there the message of Christ takes root. What seemed like disruption becomes the very means by which the gospel travels further than before.

It is not a comfortable movement. It is not chosen. But it is real and it is fruitful.

Alongside that, in John’s Gospel, we hear Jesus speak with a different kind of steadiness: “I am the bread of life.” It is a statement of deep assurance. In a world that shifts and scatters, here is something, someone, who remains constant. “Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

And then those words of promise: “Anyone who comes to me I will never drive away.”

That is not simply an invitation; it is a commitment. A commitment that holds, regardless of where someone finds themselves; whether gathered securely, or scattered into unfamiliar territory.

When we place these two readings side by side, something begins to emerge. The scattered Church in Acts is not abandoned. The presence of Christ goes with them. The promise of John’s Gospel is not tied to a particular place, or a settled community, but to the person of Jesus himself.

So wherever the disciples go, even into Samaria, they do not go empty-handed. They go with the one who has already promised to receive all who come, and to lose none of those given to him.

And perhaps that speaks into our own experience more than we might first think.

There are times when faith feels settled, familiar, rooted in place and rhythm. And there are times when it feels more like scattering; when circumstances shift, when we find ourselves in places we would not have chosen, when the shape of life changes around us.

The question these readings gently place before us is not whether those moments will come, because as sure as eggs is eggs, they will, but where Christ is within them.

And the answer they offer is simple, but profound: he is already there.

The one who calls himself the bread of life is not confined to where things feel stable or known. He meets people on the move, in the unfamiliar, even in places shaped by division or uncertainty. And his promise remains unchanged: that those who come to him will be received, held, and not lost.

In Acts, the result of that is striking in its simplicity: there is joy in the city.

Joy, not because everything is easy, but because the life of Christ has taken root in a new place, among new people.

That may be the quiet invitation for us today. Not to seek out disruption for its own sake, but to recognise that wherever we find ourselves, whether settled or unsettled, Christ is present, and his life is still being offered.

And if we are willing to trust that, even gently, even tentatively, then we too may begin to glimpse something of that same joy.

Amen.