So, here I am drinking tea in a little chapel in Wales whilst walking Offa's Dyke in 2008.  The members supplied a kettle, bottles of water (no on-tap supply here) and drink making facilities; there was a box for donations and a few cards for sale.

When Jesus entered the Temple the sight of buying and selling must have been a familiar one, something he had observed regularly for three decades, but on this occasion, humanly speaking, he snapped.  As coins scattered, pigeons fluttered and sheep ran amok, who could possibly have found stillness to pray?

As I drank tea in the stillness of Welsh chapel, was I somehow at prayer?  I like to think I was.

Angry Christ, furious at the things which separate us from God, overturn the tables of our hearts, our 'sacred cows', our barriers to prayer, and disturb our complacency.