Seek Your Servant

Luke 23:39-43/ Psalm 119:176

O Lord, 

Omniscient One.

You who knows what

the internet can't record.

The actions,

            victories,

                       and defeats

of the eternal war

between the spirit and the bone. 

O One,

who does not forget

His own,

I humbly repeat

your cross-mate's request

"Remember me."

Lenten Thoughts Of A High Anglican

Isn't she lovely, "the Mistress"?
With her wide-apart grey-green eyes,
The droop of her lips and, when she smiles,
Her glance of amused surprise?

How nonchalantly she wears her clothes,
How expensive they are as well!
And the sound of her voice is as soft and deep
As the Christ Church tenor bell.

But why do I call her "the Mistress"
Who know not her way of life?
Because she has more of a cared-for air
Than many a legal wife.

How elegantly she swings along
In the vapoury incense veil;
The angel choir must pause in song
When she kneels at the altar rail.

The parson said that we shouldn't stare
Around when we come to church,
Or the Unknown God we are seeking
May forever elude our search.

But I hope that the preacher will not think
It unorthodox and odd
If I add that I glimpse in "the Mistress"
A hint of the Unknown God. 

John Betjeman

Art is a lie that makes us realize the truth

Everyone wants to understand painting. 

Why don’t they try to 

understand the song of the birds? 

Why do they love a night, a flower, 

everything which surrounds man, 

without attempting to understand them? 

Whereas where painting is concerned, 

they want to understand. 

Let them understand above all 

that the artist works from necessity; 

that he, too, 

is a minute element of the world 

to whom one should ascribe no more importance 

than so many things in nature 

which charm us but which we do not explain to ourselves. 

Those who attempt to explain a picture are on the wrong track 

most of the time.

 Pablo Picasso

Boisgeloup, winter 1934

Easter Day

THE silver trumpets rang across the Dome:  
  The people knelt upon the ground with awe:  
  And borne upon the necks of men I saw,  
Like some great God, the Holy Lord of Rome.  
Priest-like, he wore a robe more white than foam,         
  And, king-like, swathed himself in royal red,  
  Three crowns of gold rose high upon his head:  
In splendour and in light the Pope passed home.  

My heart stole back across wide wastes of years  
  To One who wandered by a lonely sea,  
  And sought in vain for any place of rest:  
“Foxes have holes, and every bird its nest,  
  I, only I, must wander wearily,  
  And bruise my feet, and drink wine salt with tears.”

Oscar Wilde 

The Gift

(Easter meditation)

I

What are you doing with 

this resurrection life you have been given?

What are you doing now that

sin is dead?

What are you doing now that

death is not the victor?

What are you doing with 

this resurrection life you have been given?

II

What are you doing with 

this resurrection life you have been given?

What are you doing now that

Love has replaced the Law?

What are you doing now that

the last will be first?

What are you doing with 

this resurrection life you have been given?

III

What are you doing with 

this resurrection life you have been given?

What are you doing now that

you are a new creation?

What are you doing now that

you do not regard anyone with a worldly view?

What are you doing with 

this resurrection life you have been given?

Passion Play

(Good Friday Meditation)

“Surely it is not I, Surely it is not I”

“I have written what I have written.”

“I do not know, I do not know, I do not know him!”

“Crucify, crucify, crucify, crucify him.”

The Director halts this repetitive babble,

with his signature line:

“It is finished.”

The curtain rips and falls,

and the cast and crew

wonder if this is

the final act

of their careers. 

All the Kingdoms of the World

(Second temptation of Christ)

‘So here’s the deal and this is what you get:

The penthouse suite with world-commanding views,

The banker’s bonus and the private jet

Control and ownership of all the news

An ‘in’ to that exclusive one percent,

Who know the score, who really run the show

With interest on every penny lent 

And sweeteners for cronies in the know.

A straight arrangement between me and you

No hell below or heaven high above

You just admit it, and give me my due

And wake up from this foolish dream of love…’

But Jesus laughed, ‘You are not what you seem.

Love is the waking life, you are the dream.’

Malcolm Guite