A Word from one of our Ministers

Friends,
I write this on Ash Wednesday as we are beginning our Lenten journey towards the Cross, travelling with Christ as he moves inexorably towards death – but also therefore towards resurrection. I want to share the poem below with you: it is by a Church of Scotland minister in Dumbarton, the Revd Eleanor Hamilton. She shares her original poetry on her Facebook page, Whispers of Grace, and allows its sharing with attribution.
So often Lent can be about what we are giving up, how we are going to make ourselves suffer the deprivation of things which bring us comfort, joy or pleasure. Whilst I do think that Lent is an invitation to deeper reflection, and I would encourage you in some kind of Lent devotion, I think we do God and ourselves a disservice if we think that giving up chocolate, cheese or chips is going to do the job.
I might encourage you to read with me as I use Ann Voskamp’s devotional book, Loved to Life, which takes 40 days to walk through readings from John’s gospel; I would invite you to spend some time in prayer, and whether that is a new practice for you or perhaps you are a prayer warrior of many years’ devotion, spending more time with God is never a bad idea.
Revd Hamilton asks us to consider Lent in a different way – to turn our attention this Lent outward: can our Lenten practice have an impact on the world in some way? Whilst we might really want to give up sugar or chips for Lent, what difference could that make for the Kingdom? If we spent £4 on chips every week, how can we redirect that resource for the benefit of others?
Lent comes at the time of year when we are still living with some darkness, some gloom, but there is a touch of spring in the air, and the light is coming back, and perhaps our mood is lifting, and we are feeling a little lighter and brighter. I want to invite you to reflect on the poem in your quiet time, or in your house group perhaps, and see what it says to you and to those with whom you discuss it. What difference might that perspective bring to your experience of Lent this year?
Let’s remember that we, as Christians, know that the resurrection is coming too. When we are in a season of great change and discernment at Cornerstone, we might sometimes forget that there are cycles of what Brueggemann called orientation, disorientation and reorientation. Life might ever be at some stage in that cycle, but just as the cycle of the
liturgical year promises us that Easter comes after Lent, we can be sure that reorientation to a new normal and orientation to a period of steadiness will also come on the heels of disorientation.
As we live through Lent this year, with its opportunities for challenge, reflection and fasting, let’s hold fast to the promises of God, faithful to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and through all generations ever since: God is with us, and through the trials and temptations of this life, we can know the peace and the grace we are offered as co-heirs of the Kingdom with Christ, who gave of his all that we might know how much we are loved by God.
Every blessing,
Deacon Sarah
Poem
Shout it out loud, says the prophet.
Not to shame us but to wake us.
Because sometimes
we call a hunger strike holy.
We give up chocolate
and keep our grudges.
We pour away the wine
and sharpen our words on a whetstone.
We fast from sugar
but we feast on gossip.
And then we wonder
why nothing changes.
Lent isn’t a performance.
It isn’t a diet.
It isn’t about looking serious enough
to pass for spiritual.
God isn’t impressed
with our empty stomachs
or our closed hearts.
“Is this the fast I choose?”
A day of bowed heads
while others are bowed down by debt,
by injustice, by loneliness?
No. This is the fast.
Loosen what binds.
Share your bread.
Make space at your table
and notice who is missing.
Lent is taking stock.
Not of calories
but of compassion.
Where have I turned away?
Where have I chosen comfort over courage?
Where have I kept quiet
when love needed a voice?
Repentance isn’t grovelling.
It’s returning.
Returning to the God who is justice.
Returning to the God who is mercy.
Returning to the God who is light
that breaks like the dawn.
So this Lent,
don’t just empty your cupboards.
Empty what hardens your heart.
And let the God who is compassion
lead you into a fast
that feeds the world.
© E Hamilton 2026
Alison Nickells, 27/11/2025