Yesterday was Transfiguration Sunday... the Sunday before Lent begins... and so we spent a little bit of time thinking about Lent, and Lenten practices, before I led a narrative reflection on the Transfiguration story, as told in Matthew.

It was - for me anyway - a lovely service, full of precious moments as well as some fun.

We talked about Shrove Tuesday, and about pancakes, then shared some made by that nice Mr Morrison and warmed in the church microwave (thank you J).

We talked about Ash Wednesday, and received palm crosses, before being offered the sign of the cross in ash on the back of our hands.  This for me was incredibly meaningful, as I drew crosses on skin from old to young, palest white to almost black and all shades in between.

We walked with Peter, James and John from the feeding of the five thousand right through to the downward journey from the mount of Transfiguration.  And we were gifted a holding cross to carry with us... a pastoral re-imagining of 'take up your cross daily' not as a call to share in the suffering of Christ, but Christ sharing in our own.

It's a strange thing, being appointed to serve a church for a fixed term of three years, strange to prepare for all the major festivals knowing that this is the last time we will share them together.  But it is also, somehow or other, a helpful awareness entering Lent.  I am not convinced that Jesus knew the date of his death way ahead of time, but he knew that his life had shifted into its final phase, that there were 'lasts' ahead, and that what he did in his time with his followers was especially important.  For me, the questions that occupy my mind are around how to best employ the remaining months with Railway Town Baptist Church, so that when the time to go arrives (and I do know that date) we can all look back and say we walked together, with God, as well as we could.