In fact there is little need to ever go shopping again when you can order it from Amazon.co.uk, get one of those sorry you were out cards through the door and then drive past several shops on your way to the sorting office to pick your item up. Its all progress.

But recently I discovered what has to I think qualify as the pinnacle of human achievement. Forget the Apollo Missions or sending probes to Mars or whatever – you can now text a pizza. In all seriousness, the system now knows what I like to eat and all I have to do is text the words “Feed me” to a well know pizza purveyor and they will handle the rest. It is some sort of miracle, only with extra cheese, a deep pan base and hold the anchovies.

Whether you think this is a slippery slope to us all existing wired into some electronic pod only meeting the world through a delivery hatch, or whatever, what struck me from each of the readings was this message “God delivers”. God does take away (now bear with me here).

I know it sounds like a slogan that might go on one of those church notice boards along with a fed-ex or DHL logo – 'God delivers' a bit like Jim'll fix it and the dual meaning is in sight here too. God gets it done – but I think each of the readings shows us God going to where people are – and perhaps to where people don't expect to find him – rather than sitting back and waiting for them to come to him.

Lets look at Acts to start with where Paul gets the New Testament equivalent of a text saying feed me – a vision of a man from Macedonia asking Paul to travel there. Now at this point Paul was in Troas, a city in Northern Turkey and Macedonia is northern Greece – about 700 miles away including a dangerous crossing of the Aegean Sea, but Paul has no hesitation and we are told – sets off – first to Samothrace, then a day later to Neapolis, then another day Philipi – I'm reminded of the American man I met in Jerusalem who was there he said because he had been in London and then thought he pop over to Israel for a few days while he was in the area.

But Paul is not daunted. If there are people there who want to hear the message of Jesus, he will go to them – not wait for them to come to him. And this even though it is a dangerous place to be – if you read the rest of the story after our reading stops you will find Paul ends up beaten and whipped and hauled before the authorities and jailed.

But rather than keep his head down, Paul immediately starts seeking out people and places to spread the gospel. Again no waiting for them to come to him – he is out searching for the holy places, and by a river, at such a place, he meets Lydia.

Now Lydia was a widow, but in this instance we shouldn't think of a poor, destitute person with a husband to provide for her – we are well into the Roman colonial world here and things were different. We get something of the picture from an early Christian writer, a couple of hundred years later, lamenting the role of these women and their effects on the clergy – St Jerome says that aristocratic widows “sit on their litters, with huge red cloaks and huger fat bodies, a file of eunuchs walking in front; they have not so much lost husbands as are seeking them. They fill their grand houses with guests and flatterers and the clergy who aught to inspire awe with their teaching and authority (take note) kiss these ladies on their foreheads. After a vast supper these vast ladies fall asleep and dream of the Apostles.”

Lydia may have been something like this – a dealer in purple cloth was a fortunate profession – purple was the colour of the elite of the empire – that's why bishops still wear purple today – and was the most expensive dye and fabric you could buy. But she was also a godfearer – someone who had attached themselves to her local synagogue, because even though she was not a Jew, she was interested in what they taught there.

It was unlikely people like this – women who were both powerful but religiously marginalised, Roman but on the edges of Judaism – who were the driving force of early Christianity and we see her here quickly turning her house into a church – into a meeting point with God.

Not only has Paul then, brought a delivery of religious take away all the way over to Greece – he's also set up a franchise to continue the local delivery service.

In the book of Revelation meanwhile, again in a city by a river, and in a setting of great wealth and splendour, the theme is continued. This time the city is a vision – vast and built out of precious stones and large enough to occupy the whole of western Europe – try getting planning permission for that and see what answer you get.

St John's book of revelation is of course full of rich imagery and symbolism and not something to be taken literally but there are two things he includes in this vision that are relevant to the theme today. Firstly this is not, as it might seem, strictly a vision of heaven. Not quite. We are used to thinking about going to heaven – but John, and most early Christians had a very different vision. And that was heaven coming to them. In the original Christian hope, heaven was not something or somewhere for us to journey to, heaven was coming to us. God would deliver.

Now today the way we understand the world, we may not share the vision quite in the same way that they did – yet the main thrust remains – Belinda Carlise may have had a point, heaven may be a place on earth. Heaven is not only to be thought of as hidden beyond the clouds but as something that can draw near.

Secondly John points out that there is something missing from the city – a very noticeable absence for a Jew. There is no Temple. Everywhere you go in Jerusalem today, the Dome of the Rock dominates the view of the city, just as the Temple did centuries before. But in this city God is not represented by a building but is present, living with his people, in the city, in their midst.

Finally, then, the Gospel, also drawing on the memories of St John and showing that this sense of the presence of God with his people was not just something to be hoped for in the future, but a present reality in the church.

Jesus says “Those who love me will keep my word, and my Father will love them, and we will come to them and make our home with them.”

Again, no waiting for heaven to be with God, God actively comes to us, meets us where we are. God delivers.

How might these things apply to us? What message is there here?

Its easy to think of the church as an eat-in establishment. After all, isn't that why we are here – for communion, to eat his body, drink his blood? True enough. But God is also a take-away God.

Wrexham, no offence to it, might not quite match up to that great vision of the holy city, even with Eagles meadow, and yet God is already present beyond his symbolic buildings like this one. He already inhabits hundreds of little temples where people like Lydia and the man from Macedonia may ask to be fed.

One of those Temples is Florence shaped. One is Jean shaped. One is Alex shaped, or is called Margaret, or Beccy and so on.

Yes we can come to God, waiting to be fed at his table – but I also want you to think of yourselves a a load of little carry-out happy meals.

We may not do communion, thankfully, with a choice of toppings. But we still employ a team of delivery drivers with the courage to take God out to anyone who is hungry for him.

God delivers. Do we?