“It’s who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth. That’s the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship.
John 4:23-24 (Message)
Father God, we want to be honest and truthful with you. Glorify yourself through all the situations and problems we will face today.
Welcome to our preacher this morning who is Rev Richard Sharples
After service tea hosts Val and Barb
Organist: Joan McGowan
Sunday 26th March
11.00am Mrs Meryl Thomas
Vestry Steward – Elizabeth
Door Steward – Warren
Tea Hosts – Warren and Vera
Tue 21st Oasis of Silence – Regent Street at 12.30pm for 20 minutes
Fri 24th Friday Lunch Club 12 noon in the hall £3
Sun 26th Messy Church in the hall 4.00pm to 6.00pm
Tue 28th Coffee Morning Llangollen 10.00am
Tue 28th Abermorddu School Choir and Buckley Brass in the hall 7.30pm Tickets £6
Thu 30th Circuit Meeting at Rhosddu 7.30pm
Fri 31st Sankey Evening at Overton 7.00pm
Sat 1st Circuit Prayer Workshops at Regent Street 10.00am to 12.30pm
Wed 12th Midweek Communion at Regent Street, 11.15am
Fri 14th Walk of Witness from Hope Parish Church 10.00am
Fri 14th Good Friday Worship 11.00am
Sat 15th Easter Egg Hunt at Rhosddu 3.00pm
Sun 16th Communion at Regent Street on the roof 7.00am followed by bacon butty and tea
Please pray for the following:
Keith and Myra Baugh
All those who care for those in need.
We thank God for answered prayer and ask that he helps us to understand that all things do work together for good.
Lamb of God
At seven p.m. the camp’s deputy commandant Karl Fritzsch appeared, accompanied by Gestapo chief Gerhardt Palitzsch. Two archetypal, jack-booted Nazi supermen: Fritzsch had personally supervised the first mass murder of prisoners by means of the Cyclon B gas which had originally been manufactured for the extermination of vermin; while Palitzsch, a torturer of some renown, proudly boasted that he had executed 2,500 prisoners with his own hands.
Slowly, wordlessly, they passed down the lines, their elegant uniforms contrasting starkly with the scarecrow rags of the men. Fritzsch pointed a finger, an SS man pushed a hapless man out of line, Palitzsch noted the man’s number in his book, while another SS man began to form a new line of victims.
Seven . . . eight… nine. As the ninth man was selected, he uttered an agonised cry: ‘My wife, my children, I shall never see them again. His choking sobs pierced the silence, while the scarecrows looked at him unmoved. For them the ordeal was almost over. Nine down, only one to go. They held their breath.
For what happened in the next few minutes we have the sworn testimony of several witnesses, and their accounts are remarkably consistent. Suddenly a small, slight figure detached itself from the ranks, walked briskly towards the group of SS men and stood to attention before Fritzsch. The man removed his regulation cap as he did so. It was number 16670 — a prisoner whose cheeks had an unhealthy flush and who wore round spectacles in wire frames.
Something like animation stirred at last among the men. This was unheard of. That anyone should dare to step out of line during an Appel was unthinkable. Surely the crazy fool would be kicked senseless or shot out of hand by the Gestapo. They watched and waited.
The moment passed. The crazy fool remained alive. Perhaps Fritzsch’s sheer astonishment inhibited his usual responses. 16670 pointed to the distraught man who had cried out, and asked, very calmly, in correct German, if he might take his place. The prisoners gasped. Perhaps Fritzsch gasped too, for he asked in amazement: ‘Who are you?’ (He did not normally enter into conversation with sub-humans.) ‘A Catholic priest; came the reply, as though that was all that needed to be said.
Incredulously, and indeed incredibly, Fritzsch nodded assent, gestured to the reprieved man, one Franciszek Gajowniczek, to return to his place in the line. Palitzsch replaced one number by another, ordered the condemned men to remove their shoes, and sent them off, to be stripped of their rags and buried alive. Next to the last in line went Raymund Kolbe, Father Maximilian, number 16670. As he was flung naked onto the concrete floor of that grisly cell, did he recall that centuries ago St. Francis had asked one of his friars to lay him naked on the bare earth to die?
Mary Craig, from Candles in the Dark