There is something very moving about seeing a father carrying his first-born child with tenderness and pride bursting all over his face.

We watched on Sunday as an Iranian man carried his baby girl up for communion – he could not have looked more happy. We first met him shortly after his arrival about 5 years ago. He was so desperately sad for all he had left behind, especially his young wife, whose photograph he carried next to his heart. Two years ago, she received permission to join him and his delight was incomparable. Now they have their baby girl, and hearts filled with thankfulness.

The walk to the altar for communion had another special meaning for him. It was the final service of Fr. Chris who, after 8 years, was moving to another parish. It was Fr. Chris who first welcomed him, who assured him of his worth and of a safe place to build a hopeful life, who alongside others had taught him about Christ, who baptised him and nurtured him through confirmation. Now he came both humbly and proudly to receive communion with his child in his arms for a blessing. How else could he say ‘thankyou’ for the life that this priest had helped him find?

The world is full of people who face painful experiences, loss of home and family, dangerous journeys to find safety. How might George and Mary Sumner have greeted a stranger at Alresford Rectory? I guess with open arms of Christly love, just as Mary’s father welcomed people of every social class into her childhood home at Hope End. What a wonderful name for a home – Hope End – the fulfilment of hope.

Mary certainly put her childhood experience to good use as a rector’s wife – with George at her side to encourage her. He too must have held their first-born with bursting tenderness and pride. He would know the fatherly emotion that God showed when Jesus took the little ones in his arms and blessed them with such a loving look; a look which sees hope for the future.

All my hope on God is founded: Me through change and chance he guideth.

God unknown, he alone, calls my heart to be his own.

One Sunday, the sermon kept referring to ‘surprises’. I was surprised how the words managed to change a decision I thought I had made about the future. Then 4 days later another surprise arrived – in the bishop’s ‘notes to clergy’. It was an image referenced in her reflection.

On her desk is a triptych of Jesus: Jesus with a workers’ belt around his waist / Jesus drinking a mug of tea / Jesus washing the dishes. What a reminder that Jesus came among us, not in glory but in humility, to serve, not to be served: a most surprising God, who keeps on surprising us.

I wonder – when you are washing the dishes, do you think of yourself as following the example of Jesus?  When you set about a repair job, tools in your belt or pocket, are you aware of being like Jesus the carpenter? When you stop for a tea break, do you remember that, like Jesus, you are a labourer in God’s workforce, worthy of refreshment?

So, let us not diminish the value of the ordinary tasks in our lives – for of such the kingdom of heaven is built. Henry Scott-Holland, a Professor of Divinity at Oxford, observed: ‘The more you believe in the Incarnation, the more you care about drains.’

Drains don’t get appreciated enough – nor perhaps do plumbers unless our drains are blocked. The patron saint of plumbers is Vincent Ferrar, a 14^th century Dominican with the gift for problem-solving? A plumber came to repair our leaking loo last week. We asked, ‘Do you like your job?’ and he surprisingly replied, ‘I absolutely love it’.

Mary Sumner valued the people and the tasks that others saw as ‘menial’ and awakened us to the significance of the ordinary things, like dishes and sinks and tea breaks. Such tasks, undertaken with love, are foundational to family life and healthy communities. Our hands and feet are surprisingly good tools in God’s plan. So be prepared for the God of surprises to engage you in surprising tasks or to change your plans! That’s OK.

No wonder one of Mary’s favourite hymns include the words   ‘Take my hands and let them move at the impulse of thy love’.