For over a hundred and thirty years the house of Mary in Ephesus (modern day Selcuk in Turkey) has been a place of pilgrimage for Christians and Muslims.
On a blisteringly hot day in 1935, the writer E.M. Forster gave the opening speech to the first International Congress of Writers in Paris. His speech feels uncannily relevant today.
There seems to be a darkness at the heart of interfaith relations.
In March of this year, I had a conversation with a Sierra Leonian member of the church where I am vicar. He lives with his wife and children in London and sends financial support to the village in Sierra Leone where he grew up.
The all-too-real prospect of environmental meltdown poses a whole new set of philosophical questions, but underlying them all is the challenge to the ever increasing population of humans on this planet: whether we have the capacity to transform our consumption for the sake of the generations after us.
There is a book, published in 1892, written by the Hon. Lady Inglis, entitled The Siege of Lucknow. It is a first-hand account of the defence of the Indian town of Lucknow, written by the wife of the general in command of the Residency when the fort was attacked.
How much is a rainforest worth? Not much, apparently. In late 2017, I spent a couple of months of my sabbatical in Malaysian Borneo.
It is an oft-noted irony that the religions that want to heal and save us seem so frequently to be riven by conflict.
What is going on? Responses to the current economic situation fall into two broad categories – those who argue that we need more of the same but more carefully moderated, and those who lay the responsibility firmly at the door of what is broadly termed neo-liberal economics.