Advent Sunday

On the hill at Ein Karem in the Holy Land stands a simple statue, of two pregnant women greeting one another.  It is in a way shocking, you don't often see statues like that, but it depicts a moment of simple joy between Mary and her cousin Elizabeth.  In Hambleden church last night, in candlelight, I offered a reflection which began with the joy of St Luke's Gospel, where, in the midst of chaos, everyone appears to be singing.  Mary with the Magnificat, Simeon with the Nunc Dimitis, Zechariah, and the Angels.   In the middle of much political unrest, in the middle of unforeseen circumstances, in the middle of minority persecution, they sang hymns of praise.

They sang because, like at the beginning of time, God's Creative Spirit brings joy from the chaos, gives life to barren places, gives hope in our hearts.   We need to sing and we need to teach our children and grandchildren also, to sing, because God's Spirit changes things today.

Personally I felt vulnerable last evening.  The public launch on Thursday meant that everything about me suddenly came into the spot light for everyone and anyone to interpret or reinterpret to suit. I needed much help to sing.

Which is why I am glad it was Advent Sunday.  Advent Sunday reminds us that it was God's coming in vulnerability that we prepare for, and he asks for our vulnerability too.  Like Mary, Elizabeth, Zechariah and many others who have gone before discovered, without our own self exceptance that we are who we are and come to him with all sorts of experiences, some chosen or some not, we cannot begin to allow Gods Spirit to work in us a song, a song for others.

As we pray this Advent, admist the world's chaos, of climate change, of war and terrorism, of inequality, of dual standards, of confusion over what we really think about our bodies (pregnant or not), we do so knowing that the Spirit of God hovers over the chaos, and is within it, seeking to bring peace, hope and joy to a song.

Ordination Sermon

It was a privilege to preach at Christ Church, Cathedral Oxford for the Diocesan Ordinations.  I used the poems of R S Thomas as part of the retreat, along with the theme of journey, using the Ridgeway as an illustration. He is a fantastic poet and gives us all something to reflect upon.

                                

I begin with a poem, written by R S Thomas

Prayers like gravel

            flung at the sky’s

window, hoping to attract

            the loved one’s

attention. But without

            visible plaits to let

down for the believer

            to climb up,

to what purpose open

            that far casement?

                        I would

have refrained long since

            but that peering once

through my locked fingers

I thought that I detected

            the movement of a curtain.

R S Thomas, who died in 2000, was a priest and a poet, described as lacking charity and patience, and known for his Crabbiness, his poetry however captures some of the realities around about life and faith, about pondering some of the deeper things of life, as we do in a service such as this one.

I wonder whether you have had a Romeo or Juliet moment?  Balancing gravel in your hand, throwing it up at a window, wondering if it will be heard? Maybe it actually happened for you, the window really and literally opened and someone responded to your voice. Or, maybe sometime in your life, you have called out, perhaps in prayer, just wondering if anyone is there at all.

The poem is an illustration of faith in most of our lives today, some of us detecting the slight

movement of a curtain, be it a hunch,  a mysterious coincidence or a curious inquisitiveness to push at the door, or throw that stone up at the window, just to see what might happen.

Today, that curtain has moved that bit more noticeably for all of us as we observe faith in action.  As these candidates (names)  respond to God’s call on their lives by being ordained.  25 being ordained in services here today, and of many hundreds being ordained across the country over the last few weeks.

Calling is both a very personal and a very public thing.  Recognised within and without, it brings our past together with our present and catapults us into a future.   It is mystifying and definite, perplexing yet simple;

Our readings today, take that theme, beginning in the Old Testament book of Samuel.  Where

we hear that God had been almost silent, maybe going back to R S Thomas’ poem, the curtain had not moved for a long time and the prayers had stopped.   Samuel was the much longed and prayed for son of Hannah, who according to custom, at around the age of three had been presented to be cared for by the priest Eli, being given to God for a lifetime of service.  As a child he ministered at the Temple.   Today we have heard how Eli, the experienced Priest was growin old, his eyesight had begun to dim so that he could not see, Samuel, his young apprentice was with him in the temple, it was the end of the day, the tabernacle lamps were burning according to custom and the lamp of God had not yet gone out.

I don’t know whether you have seen those survival programmes, but one of the first lessons to learn is how to create a spark, a spark means hope and life, blown in the right way it can be

kindled into a flame,  and so it is with God.  God may have been silent but the lamp had not yet gone out. 

The call for Samuel began.  ‘Samuel’, ‘Samuel’ God whispered, so real, so audible that he thought it was Eli calling him. ‘Here, I am’ he said running to his master.  But checking it out, he realised he was wrong. ‘The third time Eli, encouraged Samuel to respond to God.  Not his earthly master but his heavenly one.   ‘Samuel, Samuel’ God was calling and this time Samuel answered ‘Speak Lord, your servant is listening.’ From then on Samuel was himself engaged, fully signed up,  in the work of God.  Bringing transformation wherever he went and becoming a significant person in the story of God’s people.

The movement of the curtain, the lamp still burning, the gentle whisper of our name. Signs of God’s presence in a world pre-occupied by so much other demanding our attention.  And from Samuel onwards, God continues calling, throughout his Word in times of peace, and in times of unrest, men and women, young and  old, to leave, to go, to do, to be.  And throughout the New Testament Jesus does the same – follow me, come to me, be transformed

 then go and be my disciples.

About once a year, I take a week out of my day to day role to spent time as a Bishop’s Adviser, all those being ordained today will know what that means!  We are the ones who recommend, or not, as the case may be, individuals to proceed to training for ordination.  I consider it a real privilege to sit down with each individual and hear their stories. My faith is increased significantly, as each story echo’s something of the call of Jesus to those early disciples.

Stories of those who grow up determined to enjoy the good life, then God arrives and turns lives upside down. Stories of those who have full lives, yet when each day is over, lay awake

feeling achingly alone. Where is the joy?  Where is the peace ?  where is the love?

Stories of people, for whom on hearing Christ’s call find his words get under their skin, sharpening a discontent, a hunger of something better awakened by Jesus, which refuses to go

away. 

Stories of familiar voices inside saying ‘Don’t do it. Don’t give up everything you’ve worked for.  Yet another voice whispering ‘This is everything you have craved for. Move, follow, be a disciple.’

Stories of no regret, of receiving in return something more precious and enriching than anything the world could offer. Spiritual riches, the wealth of divine love, so great that it needs sharing.

Stories of how eating at the table of the Master, with nothing spread there but the most ordinary gifts of bread and wine, is sharing in a feast which makes royal banquets seem like nothing.

Stories of transformation and family and friends here today I am sure you will recognise some of those stories, as you have stood alongside names of candidates, those you love, and seen God’s call to service become more and more compelling.  Many here will have stories of your own.   Changed hearts and lives.  As a church we may have many plans and programmes, however the greatest impact will be made in the sharing of what God has done in our lives.

Throughout history that still small voice of God, or that sudden command, or that jolt out of

the blue continues to draw people into a life of purpose and adventure with God.  Some do not leave much behind, others have to make huge sacrifices; but whatever the cost that call is

so powerful it takes an individual hunger for meaning and places it within a community of service to bring about transformation.

When Jesus sent his followers out he made sure they knew what was to be done. It was not a hide-n-seek game. It was not to see if they had grasped the unwritten rules. Jesus made his intentions clear. 

A business had relocated and was having a grand re-launch party; And one of the friends of the owner of the new business;  Wanted to send him flowers for the occasion so he phoned a

flower shop and left suitable instructions.  When the owner of the new business received the flowers; he was surprised by the  accompanying card which read: “Rest in Peace.”

The owner was angry and called the florist to complain. After he had told the florist of the obvious mistake and how angry he was, The florist replied, “Sir, I’m really sorry for the mistake, But rather than getting angry, you should imagine this:  Somewhere, there is a funeral taking place today, and they have flowers with a note saying,… ‘Congratulations on your new location”.

  

Christ’s instructions were clear. Towards the end of his time on earth, whilst the lamp of God

had not gone out, Jesus demonstrated powerfully what that calling looked like, as Samuel faithfully served, so God himself in Jesus Christ served his friends.  This is the upside down

kingdom, where the unexpected, that which flies in the face of social norms and customs, becomes the norm. This was more than R S Thomas’ movement of a curtain, this was the opening of the window and the letting down the plaits.  Christ amongst his people washing their sweaty, dusty, soiled feet, the tenderness of God in those simple actions, caring and loving selflessly, personally and unashamedly – the servant King.   Meeting their needs, kneeling before them, cleaning them up, It was so unexpected, that Peter, like Samuel, couldn’t quite comprehend.  It was almost too much for him to bear. ‘For I have set you an example, says Jesus, that you also should do, as I have done for you.’

That simple call to service, which we have before our eyes today, a call to all of us, yet contained significantly in the office and work of a deacon.  A human response by these ordinands to that God of love, who still speaks in our hearts, nudges our lives.  Who takes who we are and have and does amazing things, using our service to bring transformation to

the world.   A life of risk, underwritten by secure and abundant love. 

I have spent the last four days with these great people about to be ordained deacon. Already

their lives are about following and serving, and from today they will do that as clergy – ministering, guiding, praying, modelling.  None of these individuals know the complete picture of what is before them, and on their retreat they have been given some insights to help

them on their journey, all they know that it is a journey of service walking alongside those whom God places by their side and inviting them too into God’s kingdom. A challenging call, for which they will need all your support and encouragement.

As we read our newspapers today, and think about our world, we return to that imagine in the

Poem with which I began, many of us are probably pelting the gravel at the window in prayer

and faith, longing for God to open it once more and for the plaits to be lowered down to us. Today we can see God at work, that movement of the curtain in the call of God upon the lives of ordinary people.  We can hear stories from long ago echoing in stories that are real, today,

testifying to the fact that God’s work of transformation goes on, that reassurance that the lamp of God has not gone out.

For you being ordained today, never forget your story and what has led you to this moment, step out in faith in the full knowledge of God’s call on your life, aware of all those who have gone before you, take your place alongside others, and begin the work that God has called you to.  Yesterday I gave each of you a bag with 5 stones inside to act as markers on your way, today you can also connect them to R S Thomas’ prayers like gravel flung at the sky’s window, reminding you to pray and demonstrate faith for others as you serve.

However, this ordination service is something in which we are all involved and the challenge of faith is that God is calling all of us, by name, from where we are now to something far far deeper and vastly more meaningful, think about what that might be, who should hear your story?  Who should be part of it?  And those here today, who maybe questioning, maybe bemused, maybe sceptical, maybe even a bit inquisitive about all that is going on, I invite you to give God a chance.  To take a small step of faith. 

Later in this service we will all be invited to receive Bread and Wine.  That feast, I mentioned

earlier that for believers makes royal banquets taste like nothing.    There is a wonderful invitation to Communion from the prayers of the Iona Community, a Christian community in

Scotland, something for ordinands and guests alike with which I end:

‘This is the table not of the Church but of the Lord.  It is to be made ready for those who love

him, and who want to love him more.

So, come, you who have much faith and you who have little, you who have been here often

and you who have not been for a very long time, you who have tried to follow and you who

have failed.  Come, not because it is I who invite you: it is our Lord. It is his will that those

who want him should meet him here.’

The lamp of God has not gone out. Today let us all step out in faith and service, be part of

the greatest story ever told and in doing so bring transformation to our world.

Lent 2015

#washday was one of the themes of Lent 2015.  As I passed a number of villages during that time I decided to play my part in the clean up.

Service as Usual

I thought I would write this the morning after the historical vote at Synod to enabled bishops (both male and female) in the Church of England.

I am reminded this morning of the relief I felt one time walking out of the classroom aged 5 when I and a number of others had been asked to stand up in class and explain to the rest of the children why we were leaving to go to another school.  The fact was that school was closer to home and the decision, of course, had not been made by us.  We were being asked to defend someone else's process.

The sense of relief yesterday (yes, rather than huge rejoicing) experienced by a number of us ordained women was palpable, for us it had been personal and the decision meant that we would no longer have to defend our gender, our willingness to use our gifts or our calling by the church. Since the Rochester Report in 2004, those women who have found themselves in key positions in the C of E, be that of incumbent, or Area Dean or Archdeacon, have been called upon to explain, speak up, argue for and defend the calling of women as priests and bishops. It has been costly. The process, totally out of our hands and overseen by the House of Bishops has taken us on a roller coaster ride and it wasn't until yesterday that I realised how hard that had been.

Giving our gifts to God and God's church more than twenty years ago has not only been about being the 'first' this and the 'first' that but caught up personally in the Churches disagreement about how and to whom should we minister.   For the first time now (with the rescinding of the Act of Synod and the acceptance of 5 principles) can we sit in a room with our brothers and sisters truly recognised by the Church of England as being valid priests by virtue of our gender.

Yesterday it literally felt that the pressure had been lifted and we were freed to all be who God called us to be.  No longer would there be an onus on us to defend our calling in synod debates, or rounds of PCC or deanery discussions, pitched against those who don't feel we have the right to be who we happen to have become and I rejoice.

If I had been called to speak yesterday I would have spoken about process and understanding.  The Rochester report gave us an understanding of what others believed, and the debates since with those who share a different view, have given expression to this.  It has helped me understand other loyal anglicans.  However the process has taken us into a way of debate which has polarised us into groups - labelled liberal, conservative and catholic and set us against one another.  The process has made it hard to interact with more than agreeing or disagreeing with motions set before us.   It was not until the jolt that was November 2012 that the Bishops realised how much notice the world was taking, and the process changed.  There has since been engagement and dialogue.  I sat down with someone from another constituency to share and she exclaimed positively  ' I have never met anyone like you before'!

It was sobering yesterday that as soon as we passed the motion, after a short break it was business as usual.  Up and down the country too it was business as usual.  From conservative evangelical churches to Anglo-Catholic Churches and everything in between, Christians and priests were going about their lives just being who God wants us to be.   It is my prayer now that we get on with being Church together and find creative ways to do that. That lessons can be learnt about process and the pastoral implications of it.

I have always thought that if you do not join a 'party' group that General Synod can be a very lonely place.  I will not be the only one today who is experiencing their own inner reflections on what it means to be a person called by God to serve the Church at this time in our history. It is good that it is almost time to go home.  And as we do so, many of us rejoicingly,  I pray too that as we walk this new future together, we do so with lots of grace and mindful always of those who find themselves through no fault of their own, caught up in our own decision making.

Maude Royden and Leading Women

Reflection for the 3rd Cohort of the 'Leading Women' Course

One of the most memorable days I have spent was in the Women’s Library, handling some lever arch files which contained press cuttings, letters and documents making up the archive of Maude Royden.  Here I was handling, almost holy things, in the form of flimsy and delicate writings one of the leading women of the past.

That moment was profoundly moving for me as I read letters of encouragement Maude had received from her mother, as Maude herself would have read them.  Letters that revealed the vulnerability and humanity of a woman trying to be who God called her to be.  At that time Maude had been banned from preaching in the Church of England, and the Evening Standard had published letters giving all opinions, many not kind, on the current controversy in London as to whether she could give the 3 hour address in a church on Good Friday.   In the end she did – but not in church, rather the Church Hall and so many people came to hear her they could not get in!

Maude herself writes ‘ Learn to hold loosely to all that is not eternal.’

Despite the feelings around her and the current state of her church – in 1919 the church had confirmed the rights of women as voting members on Church Councils, but was still hotly debating the issue of speaking in churches, Maude’s dependency upon God was vital.  She realised that from an eternal perspective, like probably one of her own heroines Mother Julian, all would be well.  

However, Maude also saw the importance of her own ministry and the steps she was taking to further women’s cause. ‘Here is the great discover that awaits us’, she wrote ,’ life is all a piece we are not someday going to be, we are already’

Fast forward almost a hundred years, and who amongst us has not got stressed or hung up about issues relating to the Church in our own day.  Yet that too is set in an eternal context, as we play our particular part in the journey of salvation history, a journey of liberation and joy.

Our small step as leading women is also significant, as we take our places now within churches and cathedrals, bishop’s staff teams and boards and committees; as we freely preach of God’s love on Good Friday.   It may be challenging, or even painful but together is all a piece which is as much about us being who we are called to be now as in the future.

At the beginning of our particular journey together it is helpful to reflect upon those who have gone before, to acknowledge our place and see its value as God sees it.  I am not sure what Maude would say to each of us tonight, but God’s word says ‘ I remind you to kindle afresh the gift of God which is in you. For God has not given us a spirit of timidity, but of power and love and discipline’. 

There never has been a motto for this Leading Women course – but that seems to me like quite a good one as we venture together.

Fast forward another 100 years and I wonder who might be going through our archives?   those fragments of us, which reveal our own vulnerability, determination and humanity. Whoever it may be, may it be our corporate and individual hope and prayer, that the ministry of women today will continue to be seen in the light of eternity and our leadership and lives held up as very real examples to all who follow of holy things.

Annunciation Sermon

There’s something about Mary.

One of my favourite places in the Holy Land is Ein Karem, in Hebrew meaning literally ‘Springs of the vineyard’. It is an ancient village, in the hill country, where according to Christian tradition John the Baptism was born. This neighbourhood with a population of around 2000 now attracts 3 million visitors a year, yet the site on top of one of the hills is extra-ordinarily peaceful.

And in and around the churches there are some deeply moving and evocative sculptures and paintings of two women, Mary and Elizabeth – both pregnant, greeting one another and sharing with one another. I would have loved to have heard their conversations together, wouldn’t you? Where would they begin? The calling, the choices, the reality, the vocations advice, the future?

I am sure Mary was jolly relieved to have escaped to that hill country, away from the gossip at home, and to have the company of her elder cousin for advice and comfort. To talk through the message that she had been entrusted with, a message that turned her life upside down. God certainly interrupted this young girl’s life. 

Plans had been made, she was to marry Joseph and was no doubt thinking of her future with him when comes the angel Gabriel with that message. That God loves her, and has found favour with her, and when she reacts with fear, she’s told not to be afraid, but simply to listen. God is going to do something wonderful through her. She is going to have a son, he will be the promised king, the saviour, the Messiah.

Today we remember Mary’s ‘yes’ to God and I wonder if you can remember yours? Let’s take a moment to do that. Ein Karem, for me is a place where Mary’s ‘yes’ was affirmed and where I, when visiting, could affirm mine. Sometimes we need those moments, to think back to that time when we first said our ‘yes’, for it is often that first ‘yes’ to God, that carries us through all the difficult times, the struggling times, the times when God appears silent and the times when it all seems like too much.

I am sure Mary throughout her life kept coming back again and again to that first ‘yes’. Most probably, if she was like many of us, she sometimes wondered why she had said ‘yes’ in the first place, but I am sure it was that which kept her going as she watched Christ journey to the cross and experienced the power of the resurrection.

Mary would have been familiar with her history, she would have been told stories of her nations and her people’s past – and the expectation that, someday God would send someone to bring the kingdom to fruition. And now she was caught up in that story herself. Gabriel’s message brought the common response ‘How?’, But the angel persisted – the power of God will be at work.

I think that we have done a great disservice to Mary in some parts of the church and Christian history. Mary has been embellished, made rather god-like and far removed from real life. That’s not the Mary I read of in the pages of the gospels, I see here a real down to earth, humble young woman with no sense of any importance other than she was chosen by God. How else can we ever try to make sense of the incarnation, of God becoming flesh and blood, real life, human ?

‘How?’, ‘Who me?’, ‘Why me?’ have been natural responses for many of us in our vocational journey, as we have sensed our own inadequacy for the task that God sets before us. It is a reaction often heard by a DDO, or those listening to candidates at a Selection Conference, however Mary, helps us see that our ‘How?’ increases a sense of faith and dependence upon God, who answers our questions and calms our fears. I worry when we begin to lose the sense of wonder that it all comes down to God in the end; when we begin to rely on our own strength, or the power of our personality or the experiences we have had to get us through.

As ministers, we should not forget that our vulnerability can often be our strength.

Gabriel’s message spoke to Mary about favour and blessing. Two words the Church of England doesn’t like to use very much, but two words I am sure we in our humanness would love to hear. I wonder how many of us have looked at what is going on all around us, the circumstances of our lives and ministry and declare ourselves to be blessed or not? I am sure, if you are like me, you see blessing most often somewhere else! 

One of my favourite stories comes from Antony de Milo, and is that of a stone cutter, who is granted a wish; of course he wishes he was someone else, and when he becomes that person, he wishes he was somewhere else, and when he moves he wishes he were more powerful, and when he becomes more powerful, he wishes he was more rich, and when he becomes rich, he wishes he had more freedom. Finally when he wishes for more freedom he finds himself once again that stone cutter, who had no cares in the world than to sing all day and enjoy his work.

How often have you envied that growing church ? that larger rectory? That great music group? Those keen lay leaders? The church that pays its share in full and generous expenses? All of us, I suspect, want to know ourselves as being favoured and blessed by God as Mary was. However, I am not sure Mary always felt special. When she walked through town with her unwed pregnant belly the subject of stares and judgment, when Joseph planned to quietly leave her to avoid the scandal, when she gave birth on the ground amongst the animals of the manger, when soon after she and Joseph took Jesus and fled for their lives to Egypt. Did she feel favoured watching her son, the one to whom she gave life and her own flesh, be arrested, beaten, and killed?

God’s favour and blessing do not necessarily mean life and ministry is easy, or that we always get our wish, or that we live happily ever after. It is not God’s reward for right behaviour or right believing. It is rather a state, a condition, a way of being. Mary understands that her favouring and blessing by God are not dependent upon or determined by the circumstances of life. Her example teaches us to look and live more deeply; to look beyond the circumstance of life and see God within us.

Mary trusted God more than her life’s situation. She felt the movement of God within her, the kick of new life, and the growth of something holy. The favouring and blessing of God wasn’t around her. It was within her. It is who she is. That means trusting that God sees far more than we often see for ourselves. It means us looking deeper than the changing circumstances of our lives and trusting that even when we do not see it or understand it God is deep within us, working secretly, creating new life where we thought there could be none. It is about saying Ok, I don’t understand what’s going on and I know that my life isn’t going to end up looking like one I would choose out of a catalogue but I trust that God is at work in all of it.

This week I would encourage you to take some time to go deeper. That is not easy in the reality of day to day ministry; It is not easy to do in the round of worship, so often that we are leading ourselves. So having left that all behind can I encourage you all to use these few days to bring things back into perspective, to trust God’s favour and blessing within you, and sense that you are in God’s right place, even if it does not always feel like it.

There was a choice, but it was Mary’s ‘yes’ that released in her a tremendous joy, as she realised in a way that she perhaps never had before, that God was real; that his promises in the past would come true. Mary’s soul magnified the Lord and gave her joy, peace, hope and love. And joy because Mary realised that not just the promises of God are being fulfilled, but that it is happening through her. A humble, young, struggling ordinary woman. Hannah’s prayer of the Old Testament suddenly made sense because God did not choose the mighty and powerful, he did not pick those in authority, with great wealth or influence. It was a joy that overflowed, and probably gave Mary courage for the rest of her life.

When I look around sometimes at the state we are in as a Church the last thing I feel is joy. Even when, as was revealed in a survey last week, clergy are in the most fulfilling job! And I suppose it is because what I most want for the church is unbridled joy, that I find things around us, or decisions taken that bring unhappiness or anxiety or fear to many, so depressing. Somehow, as a church, we have a way of making ourselves unhappy – whether it be the 20 things we are not doing before breakfast, or our own prejudice or self-centredness. In a nutshell I do not see much joy around.

But on a good day, I hold onto that dream that if we really discover our worth in God, our pleasure in diversity, our creativity in our Creator, our faith in generosity, our joy in simply living then all will still be ok. There will be enough; the church will not fall down; everyone is welcome and there will be no divine retribution.

I think we each owe it to the God who loves us and calls us by name, to try to live in that joyful liberty. And I believe that is the only way many of us are going to make it to retirement and beyond, and to allow new life to blow into our churches and our church. To discover, like Mary, who we are and who’s we are and to live that life of freedom.

Mary pondered and treasured. Pondering and treasuring ask us to wait, to be quiet and listen, to be still and receptive, to be open and vulnerable to God’s life in our own. This is not passivity or giving up. It is actively participating in our own salvation. Mary opened herself up to true joy, declaring who she was and who God was. As we gather here this week the Annunciation to Mary is nothing less than God’s invitation for us to participate in God’s calling, affirmation, blessing, and freeing of our lives.

Yes, there’s something about Mary. There’s also something about us.

Diocesan Conference Poetry Workshop

This conference workshop gave us time
To ponder poetry and then write a quick rhyme.

Gathered for sharing and caring and bearing
Each other, by tearing, repairing and daring.

Still, without a smile, the speaker stood,
Ravishing our minds with Wells of God.
Shining of the seal of love in Solomonic strains
of the absent present, and the Spirit's reins.

Before, I thought I understood it
Baptism seemed so simple
Washing, drowning, rising, drying
Happy parents, baby crying
Sam wells complicated 'simple'
Made profoundly unifying mystery of it
Now I know that past is lost
and future's lost as fear of both
denies me present tense at all,
But I'm forgiven by divine cost
and riven Curtain, resurrection, both
give back my hope, my life my all.
 St Martin in the Fields gave us a
precious gift, we heard
a complex mystery unfold
in Dripping grace - simplicity

Creation cracked to let the light shine in
Beauty needs its flaw, salvation needs its sin

Don't let your thoughts go to sleep in your head
Your life's in your mind and without it - you're dead.
Let enough breeze whisper in through your ears
To blow round your brains and unleash your ideas.
Let enough moisture leak out through your eyes
To weep the compassion that falls from the skies.

My faith is so often comes and goes
and has the feel of silken hose:
It's good to know that God hangs in
Despite my waywardness and sin.

Imagination - a transformational thing
makes new transitions of the churches bling
Imagination de- construction
Guaranteed to cause a ruction.
Imagination running wild
At last to Holy Spirit reconciled.

Wet feet, trail from restless sea,
drip imprints of eternity,
all paved, and planted, like a kiss
A human breath, and God's caress.

I came here tired and thinking I was done
Tough shell but just cardboard inside, no cement
But memories reordered and reassessed condition
I go home full of re-enchantment.

 Together onwards we journey, aware of our needs
Of a God who challenges, moves,inspires and feeds.

 Many thanks to all the participants.