If we could all
just stop throwing stones,
and stoop, knees bent
and write in the dust,
we'd see that the dust
was once stone -
grand, and hard, and proud, and tough -
now ground and dissolved
in grace and tears.
So... how much better
to be a grain of dirt
on that kind prophet’s hands
than a stone
in the cold, accusing Temple
of the pure.
Technorati Tags: Dirt
Thought this might be suitable for Ascension Day:
God it's lonely up here.
I thought I had risen above it all, surrounded by Pilkington and reinforced concrete.
The Urban Individual, in penthouse isolation.
The detached life.
Social climbing, promotion, negotiation, natural selection, top of the pile, rising star in Eastern Bank.
Responsible position.
My own office.
A detached space for a detached life.
Free-agent, no responsibilities, do as I please, what I please, what pleases me.
What pleases me?
So involved in my self, my life, my work, I never saw where everyone went.
God, it's lonely up here.
This is my transmission, my song of assent: Save My Soul.
Originally posted at vaux.net
Technorati Tags: Ascension Day
Thanks to Andrew Jones for getting the go-ahead to blog this, which is from his Anam Cara book.
He has a book of blessings coming out soon, which will doubtless be equally wonderful.
Beannacht ("Blessing")
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
We used this piece in a service reflecting on our 'finitude'. We'd love to see ourselves as immortal. We're not. And Lent is a good time of 'mini deaths' to reflect on this.
//
We remember God, falling to earth as a seed, to live in our dirt, to suffer our pain, to understand our weakness, and to die and be buried. We struggle to understand life beyond death. We live as though immortal, and though death surrounds us on every side, we do not often confront it. In this communion, we remember God who died, and we hold the mystery of this death as comfort for our fear, pain and mortality.
[Call]
As we prepare to accept these symbols of God's death, we remember:
Those who have died
Those who mourn
Those who face death
[Response]
But if it dies, it produces many seeds
[Call]
As we prepare to accept these symbols of God's death, we acknowledge:
Our fear of death
Our deadness of spirit
Our frailty and mortality
[Response]
But if it dies, it produces many seeds
[Call]
As we meditate on these mysterious symbols of life beyond death, help us:
To live with uncertainty
To hold on to the world lightly
To comfort those who mourn
[Response]
But if it dies, it produces many seeds
Dismissal (after communion)
[Together]
Accept these symbols of life and death. May they lighten your spirit, enrich your life and give you peace. Amen.
Originally uploaded at vaux.net
Valentine's Day falls on one of our meetings days this year. We thought about canceling to allow people to sneak off and be romantic, but everyone agreed they'd rather meet and enjoy a shared 'love feast'!
This is the piece of liturgy we're going to share tomorrow night.
Saint Valentine is a bit of a myth. The day came about because the 14th of Feb - Saint Valentine's day - was also the traditional day in Spring when birds chose their mates. As Chaucer put it in his piece 'The Parliament of Foules':
For this was sent on Seynt Valentyne's day
Whan every foul cometh ther to choose his mate.
So the liturgy is not directly about love, but takes a quick journey through avine metaphors in the Bible... The spirit hovering over the water, the dove sent out by noah, the 'wild goose' of the Spirit, the dove settling on Christ, the assurance of the Father's love even for the birds... All ending with us eating
'these breadcrumbs, this bird-food, as a sign of our love,
this wine, your blood, as a memory of yours.'
As ever, feel free to share, and use with imagination.
Technorati Tags: Chaucer, Chaucer, Parliament, Wild Goose, Valentine's
May we learn how to wait
And not run away
May we discover in the darkness
The uncontrollable truth at the heart of all things
May we let go of our ideas of God
And our ideas about ourselves
May we let go of our precious wounds
And be open to unexpected healing
May we let go of our desire to matter
And stay with ourselves
May we let go of our compulsion to describe God
And stay with the mysterious presence of Christ
May we not be afraid
When nothing is happening
May we not be ground to zero
By the empty ache
May we not be too proud
To receive love when it comes
Like a child's tears falling
On the lonely dryness of a prayer that seems to be going nowhere
(this was initially written for advent, with a couple of phrases stolen from Rowan Williams)
It all helps
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