ADVENTURE'S RESTING PLACE

Through rolling hills and
Gentle watered meadowlands
We wend our way to church.
Quiet this serried place today,
This holy, often noisy space:
And quieted our hearts before
The empty space of death
Disguised in unobtrusive,
Lilied, wreaths of love.

What good is this, this slow
Determined dance of neuro-
Disconnection? A fertile mind,
A restless spirit and a
Generous heart imprisoned, yet let
Loose to dance another tempo,
Hum another tune, and ride
A wilder storm, while held in
Love and friendship’s firm embrace.

In Eucharist we give our thanks
And for a friend now gone
Make anamnesis: what courage
We recall, what mystery we explore in
Incensed air of loss and
Inner dereliction! And yet what hidden,
Subtle joy, what reckless hope
Awaits in bread and wine, and in
Pain’s broken circle re-connected?

On returning from the funeral
of Philip Wetherell, friend, priest,
pioneer and adventurer,
who wrestled for three years
with Motor Neurone Disease.
July 2010

A VIEW MORE DISTANT

Tom, I cannot say
I knew you well.

I saw you from a distance,
Heard your name,
Watched, as in a choir
That loved you well
You measured out your harmonies
From a more distant place:

I heard you too,
Hidden at your console,
Talking to us through
Your fingers and your toes,
But not your eyes, which resonated
With some distant, deeper place.

I knew you slightly, Tom,
As in your struggles with an
Ailing body that could no more
Contain you, your parents
In their anguish and their love
Called us to holy supplication.

There is no answer to a prayer
That seeks a simple resolution.
The music of this symphony
Is darker, more profound: it is
The energy of love in counterpoint.
Now yours to play, for

Tom, within the mystery of God
You are known well.



In memory of Tom Wickens,
Woodham Parish
May 2010

A MATTER OF PRIORITIES

Even relentless tropical
Rain relents; the evening sun
Breaks through and colours
The muddied earth to amber.
The yellowjack screams
In anticipation,
As Synod adopts
It's emerging strategic plan.
But while prelates have wrestled

With issues profound,
This bird has his eye
On the Worm
In the ground.


A moment of distraction during a serious
church meeting in a hot and humid land;
and a question about differing priorities!

July 2010

Fw: Facing tough questions

 

The papers are full of economic gloom. Jobs going, wages being frozen, pensions cut, dividends collapsing – uncertain futures.

 

The organisation I work for is currently downsizing. In the interest of fairness all of our jobs are being made redundant; a new staffing structure has been designed and we are all eligible to apply for the new, but fewer, posts available.

 

So I have recently been through the process of looking redundancy in the eye, going for a competitive interview within the new process, and fortunately for me, being re-employed but in a new role. At least I know now a little of my own future: many of my colleagues are still in the midst of the process, and it is never a comfortable one.

 

Interesting that the emphasis – quite rightly – is on the job being made redundant, not the person. Not actually what it feels like, when the letter with your name on lands on your desk.

 

Our Western society pushes too many of us to be identified by what we DO rather than by who we ARE. How easy it is to say "I am being made redundant" – because that is how it feels….. my worth stripped away, my value tossed aside by others over whom I have no control.

 

One of the defining things for me about my Christian belief is that it's about risking living on the hunch that I am valued – loved even – just because I am me. That's what I guess it means to be made in the image of God, to be loved simply because I am.

 

If we could find ways of valuing one another more for who we are rather than just what we do – think what might happen: there might be a lot less blaming of one another, a lot less  high-handed positioning by politicians, a lot more respect for minorities, for those who live on the edge, for those sqeezed out of work, for those who have less power in society.

 

And there might be a lot more reflection, individually and together, on what we might want to become, not in order to prove a point, or to achieve, or to trample over someone else to get our way, but simply to respond in thankfulness for the gifts that are ours, and to seek ways to build each other up in identity and confidence.

 

And the world might just become a little less of a scary place.

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