Martin Tarr

The English language is ever-evolving, with new words constantly entering the Oxford English Dictionary. For example, during Covid, the expression ‘binge watching’ came into being. With lockdown in place there was little for many to do save to sit on sofas to watch endless box sets on the television. Another addition is ‘selfie’, a self-portrait photograph or short video taken at arm’s length with a smartphone or digital camera.
Lent is an opportunity to take a self-portrait of ourselves and consider the result carefully. What do we see? Are we comfortable in our own skin? Are we aware of fault? Can we trust ourselves to come to an honest conclusion, or in modern slang, ‘to mark our own homework’? Of course, family or friends can be asked to give an opinion. A few would doubtless be only too happy to tell us bluntly where we are lacking, but most will fear to give offence.
The only means of knowing what others think of us would be to imagine reading our own obituary. What might the writer say? Obituary writers feel more at liberty to tell the unvarnished truth once the subject is no longer alive. This has one an obvious drawback. Should we ever have the opportunity to read our own obituary, we will no longer be in a position to learn of or remedy our shortcomings.
There are always exceptions, notably in the case of Alfred Nobel. Born in Stockholm he later embarked on many business ventures, most notably owning a major manufacturer of cannons and other armaments. Nobel’s most famous invention was dynamite, an explosive he patented in 1867. Later, a shed at his factory used for preparation of dynamite exploded, killing five people, including Nobel’s younger brother Emil. A French newspaper mistakenly confused Alfred for his younger brother and published Alfred’s obituary, which called him a “merchant of death” for inventing dynamite. The article so disconcerted Nobel that he changed his will to give a substantial legacy to found the Nobel Prizes including the peace prize.
Nobel was given a rare opportunity to remedy his faults. Lent is our opportunity to do likewise, to acknowledge our sins, seek forgiveness, and turn back to God.
Part of the homily delivered by Rev Canon Richard Grosse at our Ash Wednesday service today. The readings were Isaiah 58.1–12, Psalm 51.1–18 (BCP) and Matthew 6:1–6, 16–21.
Original photo by Manpreet Rattu on Unsplash, cropped to change its aspect ratio.

As children of light, we are called to put first the way of God; to set aside time to mull over worldly concerns in the light of what we understand of God’s world. Our faith and our prayer life inform our view of both worlds and provide a more balanced view; one which is not the result of someone else’s rhetoric and persuasion. Such a view inspires us to take our lead from the example of Jesus. For he was very clear that it just doesn’t work out if we try to serve two masters; it is illogical that it should. In other words, if we allow our main preoccupation to be making money or forging a career or any other aspect of life which we allow to take centre stage, then we cannot make enough space for total commitment to God.
It’s more than challenging. It sounds well-nigh impossible. We live in the world and few of us can turn our back on that entirely. We are bombarded by targeted advertising and social media influencers who can make anything sound desirable and trustworthy.
Restricted budgets and busy lives often mean that we shop without always checking the credentials of the shop we’re buying from, or looking in detail at the provenance of what we’re buying. But fish scraped from the seabed in their millions, in nets that trap dolphins and turtles as well, are unnecessary luxuries our planet simply can’t afford. We need to be aware of these pitfalls and be consistent in avoiding them.
Fortunately, Jesus is there to support us, and his teaching is clear and reassuring. In Luke 12:30, he says:
“ … the pagan world runs after all such things and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his Kingdom and these things will be given to you as well.”
This post is an extract from the sermon on Luke 16:1–13 preached by the Rev Carol Latimer at St Serf’s, Burntisland on 21 September 2025, the Third Sunday in the Season of Creation. Do take time to read the whole of this challenging sermon at this link.
Our silhouette of someone observing images of earth was taken by Hunter Scott and made available on Unsplash

Easter energises us spiritually. The stone was not rolled away to let Jesus out. His resurrected body didn’t need that, as his later appearances were to demonstrate. No, it was rolled away to let us in; to show us, as it showed the disciples, that the resurrection is not wishful thinking. It is a reality, then, now and always. Jesus did not come back to life; he was not a survivor. No, the resurrection is so much more than that. Jesus moved through death and defeated it, once for all, so that we need have no fear of it.
The resurrection is not just an interesting incident to read about; it is a reality; it is a life-changer; it is the fulfilment of all Jesus spoke about during his ministry; everything Isaiah and the prophets envisioned. When God’s love and man’s sin battled at the cross, God’s love won and continues to win in the risen Christ.
So, brothers and sisters in Christ, welcome to our gathering of the forgetful and the doubtful, the far from perfect community of disciples that is united with the women and all followers of Jesus in his life, death, and resurrection. His resurrection has happened to us and God is at work in each of us now, working to accomplish salvation. Jesus’ resurrection from the dead in that garden has begun God’s new creation.
Alleluia! The Lord is risen! He is risen indeed. Alleluia!
This post is the final section of the sermon preached by the Rev Carol Latimer at St Serf’s, Burntisland on Easter Day, 20 April 2025. You can read the whole sermon at this link.
The post title, chosen by your webmaster, also reflects a line in the hymn we sang on Good Friday – “There is a green hill”.
Photo by Pisit Heng on Unsplash.