Issue 35 February 2026

Lent

The Lent challenge

This week we heard from two of our families on how they prepare for the Liturgy and how they help their children benefit more deeply from it.

One family shared that one of the most helpful things they do is arrive early and sit close to the front. Being nearer to the altar makes it easier for the children to see, follow along and participate more fully. Their four-year-old gently reminded children her age to avoid bringing toys to church, and her sister said she doesn't pack snacks, as they can become a distraction. The family also makes a point of singing throughout the Liturgy to stay engaged.

The second family spoke about the importance of reverence. The girls wear scarves during the Liturgy, and the family does their best to avoid unnecessary talking. They encourage their children to keep their eyes focused on the altar, even when friends or extended family arrive. If the children become unsettled or noisy, they respectfully step outside or move to the crying room upstairs.

They acknowledged that participating in the Liturgy with young children can be challenging, but reminded us that "we're all working towards the same goal": connecting with Christ and raising faithful families.

If your family would like to share a tip next week, please send it through: we would love to include you.

From the pulpit

Give Him your backpacks

Ragy Abraham · Matthew 6:19–33

My youngest daughter, who is only four years old, has very recently started primary school. One of my favourite things is watching these tiny four- and five-year-olds walking into school holding their disproportionately large backpacks. One of the most amusing things for me is watching my daughter try to put her backpack on. Not only is it big, but she almost looks like she'll tip backwards because of how heavy it is. It looks ridiculous.

The wondrous part is that whenever I try to offer help, she is adamant: "This is my bag. I have to put it on. Because it's my bag, I have to carry it." I watch her battle through the process as she strains and struggles. Finally, when she's exhausted and willing to admit defeat, she looks up at me and says, "Daddy, can you help me?"

Why do you worry?

Every single one of us walked into church this morning carrying a large, disproportionate backpack: a backpack full of worries, full of things that have brought us to our knees. A backpack full of concerns about our children, our mortgages, our finances, illness, church, service. Every one of us carries a backpack that is too big for us to carry alone, a seemingly impossible weight that we refuse to get help with.

When Christ looks at us, He must see something similar. As we heard in today's Gospel, He asks us, "Why do you worry?" When we tell God about our backpacks, He does not respond with detailed solutions. Instead, He asks a frank question: why are you even carrying this backpack when He is standing right in front of you, ready to take it from your hands?

We think that because it is our mortgage, our health, our family, we must be the ones to drag its weight through the world. But very simply, we don't have to. Our God is strong and powerful, and He is offering His help. He tells us to give Him the backpack: to cast our cares upon Him and leave them with Him.

The worries Christ speaks about in today's Gospel are fundamental. They are not trivial concerns. Yet it is usually only when these things bring us to our knees (when we are exhausted, just like my four-year-old) that we finally think about turning to God.

And in His sweetness, Christ never turns us away. He never says, "Why did you take so long?" He simply offers His hand and carries the weight.

A piece of chocolate

Father Jacob from St Mark's Church speaks about "the concept of a piece of chocolate." He says that every now and then, God gives us a piece of chocolate. That sweetness often comes at our lowest points: when we are on our knees, when we have reached the depths. God reaches out and hands us a small piece of chocolate as a reminder of His sweetness. It reminds us that He cares about the details of our lives. It shows us that God is personally at work: that His love is that focused, that powerful, that intentional. God loves each and every one of us more than we can imagine. He is strong. He is powerful. And He is willing to give us His strength.

A time for receiving

David the psalmist says, "I have looked for You in the sanctuary, to see Your power and Your glory." Where do we see God's power and glory? Nowhere more powerfully than on the altar. Nowhere more clearly than in the Eucharist. Nowhere more intimately than in Christ Himself.

There is a common misconception that the Liturgy is a time when we offer something to God. We might abstain from food or water for nine hours before the Liturgy and think we are offering our hunger and thirst to Him. We might think, "I'm missing out on work, the gym, or something else." But the Liturgy is not primarily a time for giving: it is a time for receiving. The Liturgy is an opportunity for each of us to receive power from God, to eat His Body, to drink His Blood, and to receive strength from Him. Not simply to give, but to receive.

There are three essential elements needed for the priest to pray the Liturgy. The first is bread, which is transformed into the Body of Christ. The second is wine, which is transformed into the Blood of Christ. But the third essential element, without which the Liturgy cannot be prayed, is the congregation.

The priest cannot pray the Liturgy without the congregation. And throughout the Liturgy, the congregation is also transformed. This is sometimes called the "triple transformation": the bread into the Body, the wine into the Blood, and the congregation into the living Body of Christ.

We are not passive observers. We are active participants. We are essential. You are required. Just as the bread and wine are transformed, you too are transformed.

This is our opportunity to receive power and to hand over our backpacks to Christ.

Come with a request

Last week, we were introduced to the Lent challenge: something for all of us to take on. The Lent challenge asks, "How can we benefit more from the Liturgy?" One comment that stayed with me from Fr Luke was this: "Come to the Liturgy with a request." Dedicate the Liturgy to the prayers of your heart. Be specific. Be intentional.

Today, as we come to the Liturgy, let us ask God to take our worries, to take our burdens, to take our backpacks. How many of you would say no if I asked whether you wanted to see Jesus? Imagine seeing His light, what He wore, how He moved. In the Liturgy, you see Him. You touch Him. You consume Him. We must remember why we are here. Give Him your burdens. Give Him your backpack.

Service spotlight

The Good Samaritan Service

The Good Samaritan Service began as a simple S.O.S mission: quiet, compassionate support for couples, families and individuals in our parish who are going through a hard time.

Help can include:

• babysitting for those without family support nearby
• emergency school pickups
• cooking meals when a parent is unwell
• hospital visits, and help returning home from hospital
• driving elderly parents to medical appointments
• buying groceries
• donating clothing, homewares or appliances
• visiting elderly or widowed members of our parish

Every request is handled discreetly. A private call-out to the service's volunteers means help is offered with dignity. Compassion is not passive: like the Good Samaritan, it crosses the road. Acts done in love preserve dignity and build bridges of mutual respect, not dependency.

The first step is to ask for help, and comfort will follow. To ask for help, or to offer it, email [email protected] or speak to Fr Luke.

Parish life

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