Category Archives: creation

Swallows wood

Somedays, Swallows wood is under the flight path. It’s also on someone’s plan for a long delayed bypass. Today I can hear the birds and the breezes.
Last year’s leaves still lie where they fell. The breeze stirs them up from time to time making a sound like tiny pattering footsteps. But this year’s branches are well on with their greening.
Approaching the Bluebell Cathedral there are some cowslip and wood sorrel to light the way. A few bluebells come out as a welcoming party. Near the West Door, I meet a couple who say ‘We’ve never been here before’ and ‘It’s awesome’ and ‘You don’t see this in many places nowadays’.
So make the most of today’s main service: choral birdsong with bluebells.
I enter the nave, a path into the heart of the sanctuary. The bluebells get thicker in the chancel. Thickest still by the high altar, where you can also hear the local lambs.
All on an April Sunday, sitting here in the bluebell cathedral, listening to lambs and birds, I thought of the love of God, the green blade, and the rising.

In our life and our believing
The love of God

We are dust

Remember you are dust….

We are dust,
the very stuff of the universe;
atoms and molecules make us
and all things.
We return to dust
to be recycled across the cosmos
atoms and molecules
scattered across the heavens.
Dust to dust:
this is how we are resurrected,
born again, light years away,
bringing to birth the hope of heaven.

Dust creator, you cherish your creation:
Help us so to cherish it.
Dust bearer, you too come from dust:
May we wear our status humbly.
Dust animator, you activate us:
Whirl us up to dance together
In tune with God and with each other,
For 40 days and more.

on a cold and frosty morning

Today I went for a walk with Preschool. There were about 18 of us and we put on our coats and wellies and went out to look for frost and ice, or which we found some patches. We also found some frozen leaves that were quite crisp, and a pond covered in the green algae. I know it was green algae because one four year old boy told me what it was. We sang a well known song, but we kept changing the words depending on our experiences. Rather than going ’round the mulberry bush’ we went ’round the pond’ and ‘looked at the algae’ and so on. The other pond was still and clear and just like a mirror reflecting back the winter branches. Altogether our walk took about 20 minutes. It reminded me of the ideas about Forest Church I read last year. This was a good short act of adoration and exploration. I look forward to more similar opportunities in the days ahead.

December 21st, O Dayspring

Go through the park, on into the town….

Before the light comes we are just shapes
In the darkness, feeling our way.
A wet nose touches my hand
To confirm this as a common path
For early morning companions.
Bare winter boughs are reflected
In leaf littered pond water.
The park gates keep the traffic out
As I step from one world to another.
In the underpass the same graffiti
Urges on one team or another.
The empty cardboard boxes
Have no occupant today.

The people of darkness are needing a friend….

Come then Dayspring,
Brightest of all lights.
Come to the park and the underpass.
Come to the commuters on the 8.08.
Come to our anxious minds and crowded lives.
Come to platforms both busy and bare.
Come through the grey and heavy air.

The light of the world is risen again….

The sky is touched by the first signs.
The bare branches whisper and sigh
Recognising the moment of miracle
And all the birds in every corner sing
To God, creator of the Universe:
Even so, come then Lord Jesus.

The sun still shines on it never goes down….

In our life and our believing

The love of God

Today’s reflection includes lines in italics from the hymn Colours of Day, 572 in Rejoice and Sing, by Sue McClellan, John Paculabo and Keith Rycroft.

December 19th, O Root of Jesse

Earth was the only meeting place….

Earth was the only meeting place for the work of toil and seed.
Earth was the only greeting place for the winged one and womankind.
Earth is the only dwelling place for those who search the skies.
Earth is the only birthing place where the newborn one cries.

From a root comes a shoot,
From a shoot comes a leaf,
From a leaf comes all life;
A miniscule molecule making energy from sunlight.

Come then, O Root of Jesse,
Come and be our Son-light,
Born of root and shoot,
Bursting from the earth
To fill the skies.

In our life and our believing
The Love of God

Growing in the dark

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Growing in the dark
almost silently;
reaching upwards,
like fingers snatching
for the tiniest thread of light.

Nurturing in the dark
tip-toeing gently;
new growth welcomed,
caressed with worn fingers,
lit by dripping candles.

Triangle God; Creator, Son and Spirit,
We pray for Rhubarb farmers,
working in the dark:
planting, nurturing and harvesting
the ruby red stems;
lighting their way with candles
in a secret liturgy;
toiling to bring to light
the scarlet treasure.
We are amazed by the transformation
from dry root stock to tasty foodstuff.
As you transform the rhubarb,
so change us, the rhubarb eaters,
to watch and wait
for the harvest time:
when it comes it takes all stalks.

Seen on a van in Wakefield: Honk if you like Rhubarb

Sun rise

Talk about the sun rise with your children:
Of how the colour creeps from pinky-grey
To orange, the sky parting, pushing back
Streaking, cracking, leaking an artist’s palette
Greeting, breaking, welcoming, soft at first
Then louder, brighter, bolder, calling out,
Shouting, the world’s awake, the day’s alive.

Talk about the Son rise with your children,
Of how the dark dewy garden seemed serene,
The smell of earth, the sounds of birds,
The light coming creeping across the grass,
The shadows being pushed back,
The sorrow clinging to the branches,
Waiting to be challenged,
dispelled by a gentle footfall.

Talk to your children about the Son rise with the sun rise:
Affirming, confirming, ascending,
Father-wise, Spirit-filled, Welcome One,
The kiss of hope, nudging away reluctance.
May we greet you Sun-wise One,
Who greets us every morning,
That we may share the truth
Of the Word alive in us.

In our life and our believing
The Love of God

Advent and Solstice: a contemplation

As we slip gently into darkness again;
the street lights caste their halo,
the park gates close early
and the last of the unhelpful leaves clog the gutter.

Far off, someone starts a spark:
a beacon on the beach,
lit with imagination for the suffering
of a distant besieged city .¹

We have reached that season again,
when light and dark tussle
for the lives and souls of the population
of a small island groping for good news.

So bring in the yule log,
strike up the band,
sit a merry Santa on a sleigh
and keep future uncertainty at bay.

Because, we who age, limp and scar,
who look down the tunnel of our own existence
to a mean spot with confining walls
and machines that bleep out the beat;
We, who seek to preserve yesterday
because we cannot hope in tomorrow,
who have put the ‘f’ into prophets,
so they are reassuringly fat;
We who shun addictions and abuse,
yet indulge our socially destructive habits;
We who wall ourselves up against the world
and yet demand rights to global markets;
We who hover between life and death,
who have every choice for last rites;
how can we embrace the dark-light way,
and live as winter people today?

Last night, in darkness,
I traveled a high street ²
with its seasonal cheer hung out
and crowded pubs and bars.
For each shop front garlanded
others were boarded up,
still bearing the marks
of a relentless river in spate
that came and went almost a year ago:
the two economies of cheer and grief
existing side by side.

This then is a way to navigate the season;
where darkness drapes itself around
and we search for quick fix lighting
to lift our plunging spirits.

Hold them both then,
one in each hand,
balancing concerns;
weave the two paths together
with honest acknowledgement
of the place of both
in your life and community.

To the Solstice say welcome dark night,
grey day, heavenly movement.
To Advent say welcome small spark,
weak flame, heavenly moment;
for dark and light are both the same
in the heart of heaven, ³
where we are called only to live honestly,
not off of the backs of one another,
but with open hearts and doors
to welcome all who appear in this season.

In our life and our believing

The love of God

Advent Sunday 2016

¹ Aleppo of course #StandWithAleppo

² In Calderdale,West Yorkshire, which was flooded on 26.12.2016

³ Psalm 139, verse 12

I want to live

I want to live
To see an albatross
Glide over the southern ocean.

I want to live
To know that babies
Are born safely world-wide.

I want to live
To understand
How East and West can feast together.

I want to live
To read the books
The children of Aleppo will write.

I want to live
To ensure that any woman
Can walk any street anytime anywhere.

I want to live
In peace with justice
Sharing the promise of abundant life
With all of you.

Notes from Chapel

a blog from Silcoates Chapel