If we’re not preaching good news, we’re not preaching the Gospel of Jesus Christ

On Sunday 11th October this year, I had the honour of preaching at Kingshill Baptist Church in Buckinghamshire (pictured). The village of Little Kingshill is a more rural location than I am used to preaching in, but they challenged my assumptions about rural churches by being a very lively, active and welcoming congregation. Below is the text of my sermon.

Although this is the text that I wrote beforehand, I deviated from the wording slightly in practice. However, the substance is the same (the content overlaps partially with my sermon in Oxford the previous week, which you can see in my previous post).

The sermon followed two Bible readings:

Several times a week, I walk between New Street station in Birmingham, and Aston University where I work as a chaplain. One day I was walking back to the station after quite a tiring day and I passed one of the numerous Christian street preachers who can be found in central Birmingham. He was telling passers-by that they were in danger. He was warning them that they had been living with no regard to God or the future, enjoying themselves without thought of the consequences but that they would soon find that they had – as he put it – “maxed out the credit card” – and that they had a debt that they were unable to pay.

I looked round at the people in the street. There were people like me, on the way home from work. There were parents with small children, some of them clearly struggling. There were homeless or semi-homeless people begging on the sides of the street or under the influence of alcohol or other drugs, slumped in corners. There were people seeming harassed and stressed as they went in and out of shops. A few people seemed cheerful. A lot didn’t. But on the whole they didn’t look like a group of people enjoying riotous lifestyles with no thought of the consequences. But the preacher continued regardless, warning them of the punishment they would face.

I considered approaching the preacher and saying, “Have you got any good news?” Because all he seemed to be offering was warnings, judgement and condemnation. He perhaps had forgotten that the word “gospel” translates the Greek word “evangelion”, which means something like “triumph,” “victory” or “good news”. I do wonder sometimes if preachers like this go round knocking on people’s doors and saying, “Have you heard the bad news?”

The Bible makes clear that the gospel of Jesus Christ is good news. Mark’s Gospel, the oldest of the gospels we find in the Bible, begins simply, “The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ”. Paul, when writing in the midst of persecution and sufferings emphasises that the message he preaches is good news.

In the reading we heard earlier, from Luke Chapter 4, we saw Jesus going into the Nazareth synagogue and reading from Isaiah’s declaration of “good news to the poor” and making clear that he had come to fulfill that prophecy. The gospel is particularly good news to the poor. Jesus proclaims freedom to the oppressed. But even for those who are rich and powerful, Jesus has good news. Later in Luke’s Gospel, we see the rich man Zacchaeus giving away half his wealth and finding joy in joining Jesus’ community of equals.

If we are not preaching good news, we are not preaching the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Now there is lots of bad news in the world. We do not need to preach bad news. People already know the bad news. People know how horrible the world can be. You have only to switch on the radio or open a social media platform to be reminded. In the last fortnight alone, we have seen the horrendous anti-semitic murders at a Manchester synagogue, to be followed only two days later by an arson attack on a mosque in Peacehaven in Sussex. As we hold our breath to see if the deal to end fighting in Gaza is successful, we can barely imagine the suffering that continues there – to say nothing of Ukraine and elsewhere. In a world that has enough food to feed everyone in it, if only we organised it differently, people die every day from preventable hunger. Can there be any bigger sin in the world? 

That’s why the gospel can never be cheap or easy good news. The good news that Jesus brings is much deeper than trite or shallow reassurances. When I became a Christian in the 1990s, there was a popular worship chorus that included the line, “In your presence, my problems disappear”. What nonsense. What blasphemy – to present Jesus as an individual problem-solving machine. Telling someone that their problems will be over if they put their faith in Jesus will ring hollow if they are shivering in the cold because they cannot afford both heating or food, or because they are frightened of leaving their house because the far right have been marching in their street.

And this leads me to the other Bible reading we heard earlier – from Lamentations.

If you ask people to choose their favourite books in the Bible, I doubt that Lamentations would feature in many people’s answers. The content of Lamentations can be roughly summed up as follows:

Chapter 1: Everything’s dreadful.
Chapter 2: Everything’s still dreadful.
Chapter 3: Yes, everything’s still dreadful. But there are, possibly, some glimmers of hope.

And so it goes on. Most of the book is lamenting suffering and injustice. It was probably written in the fourth century BCE following the fall of Jerusalem, admist all the poverty and oppression that followed that event. But as the Book of Lamentations goes on, glimmers of hope appear. They are never more than glimmers. There is no triumphant finale or happy ending. But sometimes, this is how life feels. Sometimes, this is how life is. This is a book that recognises the reality of suffering while beginning to find hope. 

Those who preach bad news like the street preacher I mentioned, and those who preach a trite positivity with no depth to it, both make the same mistake. They both overlook the reality and extent of suffering that many people are already experiencing in their lives.

Proclaiming good news does not mean pretending that suffering is not real. It means proclaiming hope – not trite, shallow hope but deep, meaningful hope – in the midst of suffering.

And this takes us back to that reading from Luke. We saw Jesus returning to his home town, where no doubt some people remembered him from childhood. “Isn’t this Joseph’s son?” they ask. But now he’s standing up in the synagogue, reading Isaiah and proclaiming “good news for the poor” and “freedom for the oppressed”.

Then Jesus tells his audience that the scripture is fulfilled now in their hearing. How absurd that must have sounded. The Roman imperial forces were in control. Many historians suggest that Galilee was struggling with severe poverty. The people who heard Jesus knew that he had lived with them in Nazareth. He had endured the Roman oppression. He had lived through the poverty and injustices that at least some of them were experiencing.

It is difficult to know why they became so angry. Perhaps they thought he was arrogant. Perhaps they feared the Romans’ response. Proclaiming the Gospel sometimes leads to hostility. Nonetheless, it is good news offered in the midst of bad news, a deep hope despite the horrors around it.

The God of Jesus Christ is not a god who causes suffering but a god who suffers with us. He endured one of the most unimaginably painful forms of death that human cruelty has ever invented. He was sentenced to death by the forces of the Roman Empire that were occupying Palestine.

The Roman authorities may have thought that they could easily get rid of a troublemaking Jewish peasant. They were wrong. When God raised Jesus from the dead, the victory of love over evil was assured. The forces of sin, oppression and empire were put on notice that their defeat had begun. With the resurrection, the triumph of the good news was assured.

This does not mean that we should simply sit back, accept things as they are, and wait for God to intervene in the future. Jesus promised his followers that the Holy Spirit would be with them now. The Kingdom of God is both now and not yet, breaking into our mundane and often unjust realities even as we await its total fulfilment in the future.

For as we’ve watched the news in recent weeks, it can be hard to believe that, as Martin Luther King said, “the moral arc of the universe bends towards justice”. The gospel we proclaim is not a naïve or shallow hope that things might get better one day. It is rooted in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

We glimpse the Kingdom of God in small moments of kindness and in global campaigns for justice. The Kingdom of God flashes into our presence when people reach across boundaries and recognise their common humanity. Just over a week ago, we saw the reality of sin with the vile murders at the Manchester synagogue. And we glimpsed the Kingdom of God when people of many faiths and none declared their solidarity with Manchester’s Jews. Working at a university chaplaincy, one of the most memorable moments of the day for me was when a Muslim member of staff used the chaplaincy prayer room to pray for the victims and for British Jews in general. In the midst of horror, let us keep our eyes open for the flashes of light.

There are times when I want to ignore the bad news. Sometimes I want to pretend I haven’t heard it – whether it’s global, national or personal news. But of course some of us can ignore bad news more easily than others. You can ignore war – unless you’re in the war zone. You can ignore news of starvation – unless you’re starving.

So let’s be prepared to recognise the reality of bad news, to listen to people who are hurting, to allow ourselves to be challenged or confused, to show solidarity perhaps to people under attack – whether that be Jewish worshippers in Manchester, children bombed in Gaza, or the many groups frequently scapegoated by parts of the media – whether that be Muslims, Jews, trans people, benefit recipients or refugees crossing the Channel in small boats.

Let’s also recognise our own role in the sins of the world. The world cannot be divided simplistically into goodies and baddies. In recent days for example I have been very conscious of the times that I have failed to challenge anti-Semitism. Recognising our sins does not mean we should spend time beating ourselves up. Rather it means that we can rejoice in God’s forgiveness, pray for God’s forgiveness for others and ask God to guide us in the present and the future.

Because in the midst of the horrors that we experience, we can cling onto, and gently point others to, the good news that we find in Jesus. This is not a shallow hope that comes only when we’re feeling good. God loves us however we’re feeling. It is not a calculated optimism based on an analysis of probabilities. It is a hope found in Jesus Christ. A hope, a faith, that the Kingdom of God proclaimed by Jesus is ultimately stronger than the all the might and power and violence of the kingdoms and empires and armies of this world.

Jesus showed the way in the passage that we heard earlier, from Luke’s Gospel. He declared, quoting Isaiah, that God had anointed him to bring good news. And this is true for all of us. For me, for you, for every one of us! Every one of can say, “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release from suffering,” and so on. God has anointed you and me to share the good news in our lives – while recognising that some people may understandably find it hard to believe.

We are all broken people in a broken world, and we are compromised by the sins against which we protest. Yet however often we fail, God will not tire of forgiving us. So when our focus weakens or wanders, let’s ask God to keep us focused on the Kingdom of God, on the Christ whose love and justice are triumphing over the sins and evils that see us divided and mistreating each other.

Hatred and injustice will not win. Love will triumph. This is the Gospel we proclaim. And it is good news.  

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My book, The Upside-Down Bible: What Jesus really said about money, sex and violence (Darton, Longman and Todd, 2015) can be bought in paperback or e-book, priced £9.99.

Palestine Action arrests threaten all our rights

I wrote the following article for the Church Times, who published it on 29th August 2025.

The Vice-President of the United States, J. D. Vance, has reiterated his claim that free speech is under threat in the UK. Any valid points that he might have about the policing of abortion protests are undermined by his failure to mention that hundreds of people are being arrested for supporting Palestine Action (PA).

The banning of Palestine Action under the Terrorism Act had only just come into force last month when footage went viral of the arrest of the 83-year-old priest the Revd Sue Parfitt at a protest. After less than two months, the number of those arrested in connection with PA has exceeded 700. Among them are clergy of at least four denominations.

PA was banned after its members broke into RAF Brize Norton to damage weapons. But the people accused of entering Brize Norton have been arrested under existing laws, as have other PA members. The ban does not target PA’s activists, but those who publicly agree with them. It criminalises opinions.

Most people who have been arrested so far have carried signs that read “I oppose genocide. I support Palestine Action.” I wonder whether I would be arrested for a sign that read “I broadly support Palestine Action, but think some of their tactics are misguided.” I easily could be. The first five words are illegal.

The Home Secretary, Yvette Cooper, has doubled down. She claims that many PA supporters do not understand the nature of the group. So, why criminalise such apparently ignorant people? She says that court restrictions prevent her revealing “the full nature of this organisation”. In other words: trust the people with power: they know more than you do. I doubt whether this sort of request will work.

 PA was founded in 2020, when I was on the staff of the Peace Pledge Union (PPU), Britain’s leading pacifist group. One of PA’s two founders is a PPU member. Impeding the arms industry has been the core of PA’s activity. The group’s critics label its members as violent. But, whatever the rights or wrongs of destroying property, the word “violent” surely refers to harming a living being. To describe the destruction of weapons as violent is to give property the same value as people.

Only the most grotesque priorities can lead ministers to condemn damage to weapons while continuing to supply those weapons to regimes that bomb children.

It is when they have deviated from targeting arms production that PA’s members have lost support. When they daubed paint and scrawled graffiti on Rico House in Manchester, protesting against Israeli landlords, their target was far from obvious to people working in rented offices there, many from the mostly Jewish local area. Whatever their intention, PA gave the impression that they were targeting Jews rather than genocide. This deterred potential Jewish supporters, and led to criticism from PA sympathisers who were keen to combine opposition to Israeli aggression in Gaza with resistance to anti-Semitism.

When it comes to targeting weapons, however, widespread revulsion against genocide in Gaza has increased support for PA just as they have been banned.

Nonetheless, it is possible to disagree completely with PA, even to want its activists imprisoned, and still to oppose the group’s proscription under the Terrorism Act. Mass arrests for expressing opinions are a threat to all our rights

“I was there to bear witness to the call of Jesus to stand with those who are being silenced,” said the Revd Dr Sally Mann (pictured), a Baptist pastor arrested in London on 8 August. Passionately opposed to British arms sales to Israel, she said that she would be just as opposed to arming Hamas.

Like several other clergy, Dr Mann received support from her congregation. The morning after the Roman Catholic priest Fr John McGowan was arrested, he was applauded at mass; but, when he had arrived at the demonstration the day before, he heard someone calling out “Where are the church leaders? Why aren’t they saying anything?”

Several bishops and denominational leaders have condemned the supplying of arms to Israel, but have avoided mentioning the ban on PA.

Among non-churchgoers, the reaction is quite different. Look at social-media footage of Ms Parfitt’s or Dr Mann’s arrests and you will see comments from people saying that their perception of Christianity has improved. They have heard people speaking of Jesus as their reason for standing against genocide and risking arrest.

If this discovery leads them to attend a church, will they find the same enthusiasm for justice and peace?

Sixty people already face trial for supporting PA. More than 300 prominent British Jews have called for the PA ban to be reversed. The Liberal Democrats, the Green Party, Plaid Cymru, and several politicians, are backing Amnesty International and Liberty in calling for a review of terrorism legislation.

Silent bishops and denominations will face a choice as their own members stand trial for their beliefs. They can ignore one of the biggest issues facing us today; or they can bless those who hunger and thirst for righteousness. As Dr Mann puts it, “It is costly, but we need to call out genocide and war crimes no matter who commits them. Jesus shows us how to do this.”


My book, The Peace Protestors: A history of modern day war resistance (Pen & Sword, 2022) can be bought online from the Church Times Bookshop.

Churches condemn aid cuts – and then undermine their own argument

I am pleased to see that the leaders of four of Britain’s biggest Christian denominations have condemned the Starmer government’s cuts to international aid.

But I am really sad to see that they have undermined their own argument with their comments about the increase in military spending that the aid cuts are going to fund. Not only have they failed to challenge the military spending increase, they have also bought into misleading militaristic myths that equate “defence” with preparations for war.

The leaders of the Church of Scotland, Methodist Church, Baptist Union of Great Britain (of which I am part) and the United Reformed Church have produced a statement that rightly condemns the aid cuts and points out some of the horrifying consequences that can be expected to follow. However, they declared:

While there is a case to be made for increasing defence spending to support Ukraine in resisting Russian aggression, that shouldn’t come at the cost of vital humanitarian and development programmes, which play a crucial role in promoting human security around the world.

While not quite expressing support for the military spending increase, the church leaders have explicitly stated their acceptance of an argument for doing so.

While politicians are tripping over each other in their enthusiasm for increasing military spending, few if any of them have made any attempt to explain how this will defend us. NATO’s massive military budget did not deter Putin’s vile invasion of Ukraine. Given that the combined military budget of NATO countries is much higher than Russia’s, it’s entirely unclear how increasing it further is expected to deter Putin now.

The wording of the churches’ statement implicitly accepts the notion that military spending is about deterring Russian aggression. In reality, much of the UK’s military budget is spent on supporting military aggression, such as through the provision of military training to Saudi Arabia and Israel, whose forces are killing civilians in Yemen & Palestine.

Meanwhile, the UK military is closely linked with the US military, with US troops stationed at various bases in the UK. Those troops are now Trump’s troops: they have a Commander-in-Chief who is a far-right despot. The UK government’s “independent” nuclear weapons system is in reality depending on US technology to operate. Morally, I cannot see how funding a military that is linked to Trump’s forces is any better than funding a military linked to Putin.

Most of all, I am dismayed that the church leaders undermined their criticism of aid cuts by going along with the use of “defence” as a euphemism for war and preparations for war. Five years ago, the Covid pandemic came as a deadly reminder that weapons cannot make us safe from many of the threats that humanity faces. Spending on defence should mean spending on things that keep us safe in a variety of ways and protect us from all sorts of threats: poverty, pandemics and climate change, as well as war. The aid budget is an aspect of defence.

I am pleased that church leaders pointed out the role that humanitarian programmes play in human security. However, military expenditure and aid expenditure symbolise two very different views on what security really means. These church leaders are right to condemn cuts to the aid budget, but on the wider issue of building a safer world, they are sadly sitting on the fence.