Reflection: A Call to Clarity (12th Mar, 2026, Year A)

Readings

Jeremiah 7.23–28 – But this command I gave them, ‘Obey my voice, and I will be your God, and you shall be my people; and walk only in the way that I command you, so that it may be well with you.’ Yet they did not obey or incline their ear, but, in the stubbornness of their evil will, they walked in their own counsels, and looked backwards rather than forwards. From the day that your ancestors came out of the land of Egypt until this day, I have persistently sent all my servants the prophets to them, day after day; yet they did not listen to me, or pay attention, but they stiffened their necks. They did worse than their ancestors did. So you shall speak all these words to them, but they will not listen to you. You shall call to them, but they will not answer you. You shall say to them: This is the nation that did not obey the voice of the Lord their God, and did not accept discipline; truth has perished; it is cut off from their lips.

Luke 11.14–23 – Now he was casting out a demon that was mute; when the demon had gone out, the one who had been mute spoke, and the crowds were amazed. But some of them said, ‘He casts out demons by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.’ Others, to test him, kept demanding from him a sign from heaven. But he knew what they were thinking and said to them, ‘Every kingdom divided against itself becomes a desert, and house falls on house. If Satan also is divided against himself, how will his kingdom stand? —for you say that I cast out the demons by Beelzebul. Now if I cast out the demons by Beelzebul, by whom do your exorcists cast them out? Therefore they will be your judges. But if it is by the finger of God that I cast out the demons, then the kingdom of God has come to you. When a strong man, fully armed, guards his castle, his property is safe. But when one stronger than he attacks him and overpowers him, he takes away his armour in which he trusted and divides his plunder. Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.

Reflection

There is something very direct, uncomfortable even, about today’s readings. In both Jeremiah and Luke, we hear a call to clarity: clarity about listening to God, clarity about where we stand; clarity about the direction of our hearts.

In Jeremiah, God speaks with a mixture of longing and sorrow. The command is simple: “Listen to my voice, and I will be your God, and you shall be my people.” It is not complicated. Not a matter of elaborate ritual or clever theology. Simply this: listen, walk in the way God shows you, and life will flourish.

And yet, the prophet tells us, the people did not listen. Instead, they “walked in their own counsels,” following what Jeremiah calls “the stubbornness of their evil will.” It is a striking phrase. Because it reminds us that faithfulness is often not undone by ignorance but by resistance; by that quiet, persistent preference for our own way over God’s.

Jeremiah’s lament is not only about ancient Israel. It is about every age and, if we are honest, about us too. We know what it is to hear God’s voice in Scripture, in conscience, in prayer, and still find ourselves turning aside. Sometimes gently, sometimes deliberately, but often repeatedly.

Then we turn to the Gospel, and the tone sharpens further. Jesus has just freed a man from a mute spirit; a clear act of healing and restoration. Yet instead of rejoicing, some accuse him of working by the power of evil. Others demand more signs, as though what they have just witnessed were not enough.

Jesus responds with a simple and searching truth: a divided kingdom cannot stand. If his work is bringing freedom, restoration, and life, then it bears the mark of God’s kingdom. And if God’s kingdom is breaking in, then neutrality is no longer possible. As he puts it starkly: “Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.”

It is a hard saying. We often prefer softer edges with space for ambiguity, for keeping our options open. But Jesus speaks into that hesitation. His words suggest that faith is not merely a private sympathy or quiet admiration. It is allegiance. It is direction. It is a way of living that gathers rather than scatters.

When we place these readings side by side, a pattern emerges. Jeremiah shows us the danger of refusing to listen; Luke shows us the danger of refusing to decide. Both point us toward the same question: where, and to whom, are we really listening?

Because the truth is, we are always listening to something. The voice of habit. The voice of fear. The voice of convenience. The voice of the crowd. The question is whether, beneath all that noise, we are making space to listen for God.

The good news in both readings is that God has not stopped speaking. The same God who spoke through Jeremiah continues to call his people back into relationship. The same Jesus who freed the man from silence continues to bring freedom and clarity into our lives.

So perhaps our prayer today is a that God would give us ears to hear, courage to choose, and grace to follow. That we might not walk in stubbornness, but in trust. Not scattered, but gathered into the life of Christ. And in that listening and following, discover again the life and peace God longs to give.

Amen.

Reflection: In Face of Opposition (4th Mar, 2026, Year A)

Readings

Jeremiah 18.18–20 – Then they said, ‘Come, let us make plots against Jeremiah—for instruction shall not perish from the priest, nor counsel from the wise, nor the word from the prophet. Come, let us bring charges against him, and let us not heed any of his words.’ Give heed to me, O Lord, and listen to what my adversaries say! Is evil a recompense for good? Yet they have dug a pit for my life. Remember how I stood before you to speak good for them, to turn away your wrath from them.

Matthew 20.17–28 – While Jesus was going up to Jerusalem, he took the twelve disciples aside by themselves, and said to them on the way, ‘See, we are going up to Jerusalem, and the Son of Man will be handed over to the chief priests and scribes, and they will condemn him to death; then they will hand him over to the Gentiles to be mocked and flogged and crucified; and on the third day he will be raised.’ Then the mother of the sons of Zebedee came to him with her sons, and kneeling before him, she asked a favour of him. And he said to her, ‘What do you want?’ She said to him, ‘Declare that these two sons of mine will sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your kingdom.’ But Jesus answered, ‘You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I am about to drink?’ They said to him, ‘We are able.’ He said to them, ‘You will indeed drink my cup, but to sit at my right hand and at my left, this is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared by my Father.’ When the ten heard it, they were angry with the two brothers. But Jesus called them to him and said, ‘You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It will not be so among you; but whoever wishes to be great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be your slave; just as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many.’

Reflection

In our reading from Jeremiah, we overhear something deeply uncomfortable. The prophet has spoken God’s truth, and the response is not gratitude but plotting. “Come, let us make plots against Jeremiah.” They dismiss his words, question his credibility, and then seek to silence him. Jeremiah’s anguish is palpable. He turns to God not with polite piety but with raw honesty: “Remember how I stood before you to speak good for them.” He had prayed for these very people; he had interceded for them. And now they repay him with hostility.

It is a lonely place to stand — faithful, but misunderstood; obedient, but opposed.

When we turn to the Gospel, we find Jesus walking that same road. Matthew tells us that Jesus takes the Twelve aside and speaks plainly: he will be handed over, mocked, flogged, and crucified. Unlike Jeremiah, he does not speak of possible plots — he speaks of what will certainly happen. The rejection is not a risk; it is the path.

And yet, astonishingly, immediately after this solemn prediction, the mother of James and John comes with a request. She wants honour for her sons — seats at Jesus’ right and left in his glory. The other disciples are indignant, perhaps because they share the same ambition. It is a jarring contrast. Jesus speaks of suffering; they dream of status. He speaks of a cross; they imagine thrones.

But perhaps we should not judge them too quickly. We too can be tempted to follow Christ while quietly holding onto our own expectations of recognition, security, or influence. We may accept the language of service, yet still hope for reward.

Jesus’ response reframes everything: “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them… It will not be so among you.” In his kingdom, greatness is not measured by prominence but by service; not by power held over others but by life poured out for others.

“The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” There is the heart of it. Jesus does not merely teach about service — he embodies it. His journey to Jerusalem is not a tragic accident; it is an act of self-giving love. Where Jeremiah prays for his persecutors, Jesus will go further still: he will forgive them from the cross.

And so the two readings speak to one another. Jeremiah stands faithful in the face of opposition, praying for those who seek his harm. Jesus walks knowingly toward rejection, redefining glory as sacrificial love.

For us, in this season of Lent, these texts invite reflection. Where are we being called to quiet faithfulness, even if it is unnoticed or misunderstood? Where might our ambitions need reshaping in the light of Christ’s servant-hearted kingdom? And where might we be called not only to endure hurt, but to respond with prayer and grace?

The Christian life is not a climb to prominence but a descent into love — the love that serves, that forgives, that gives itself away. That is the way of Christ. And it is the way that leads, paradoxically, not to diminishment, but to true life.

Amen.